Cat scratch fever 
Written by The Raven. 
A Catfighting saga (big file, 410kb)
Update: 15/10/1997 to misc2


BOOK I: Trang's Texas Trial 
 
Copyright (c) 1995, 1996 by The RavensWord Corporation. 
This story may be freely distributed by electronic  
transmission.  Please do not publish this story in hard copy  
form for sale without permission of the author.  
 
WARNING: 
This is an adult story.  Minors should not read it.  Nor  
should those upset by graphic sex, violence, lesbianism.   
It contains     frank depictions of women wrestling, fighting,  
sex, and light domination. 
 
Part 1 
 
We drove into a cul-de-sac and parked before a Spanish-style  
house with a nice manicured lawn.  That's how Trang had  
met Helen--by working on her garden that day with her crew. 
        "We were working in the lawn and I kept noticing  
her looking at me through the window," Trang had told me.   
"Staring at me.  Finally, she came out to the patio with some  
lemonade for us and we started talking.  Helen asked me if I  
worked out in a gym--she noticed the definition in my legs  
and arms."  Trang was exceptionally fit.  She was 5'6",  
weighed 135 pounds, and had long straight black hair that  
went just past her shoulders.  Her legs and arms were tanned  
from working in the sun during the day.  "I told her that I  
worked out everyday in the gym in the morning.  She said  
that she liked to workout, too, and we compared our routines.   
Then Helen asked if I wanted to test my strength--by arm  
wrestling her.  I was turned on by her offer, so I tried it. 
        "We squared off against each other on a table.  The  
other ladies in the crew egged us on.  On the first bout, we  
must have struggled against each other for a full minute.  I  
could see the veins popping out on Helen's face.  She's about  
13 years older than me--at 39, but man, she is really tough  
and strong.  I nailed her the first time.  It felt like my arm and  
wrist had been stuck in a door or something.  We went  
against each other a second time, and she won.  She wanted  
to go for a third, but I knew my arm couldn't take it.  
        "We went back to work and finished the job in the  
lawn.  I went up to Helen to collect our paycheck, and she  
said she still wanted to know which one of us was stronger.  I  
said I didn't really like arm wrestling--but how about real  
wrestling?  Helen was really pleased--you could see this grin  
come over her face.  She said she liked to wrestle, but had  
such trouble finding partners.  I asked her if I could bring you  
over to watch." 
        And so here we were at Helen's house.  We didn't  
use the front door--Trang walked around to the back.  We  
came upon a small courtyard that was extremely private-- 
hidden from the street by a fence and the house itself.  There  
was the yard, and next to it, a small patio, where Helen sat,  
waiting for us. 
        Helen looked great for her age.  She was 5'4",  
probably weighed about 140 pounds, white, had curly black  
hair that came to her neck.  She was wearing a black bikini  
and black high heels.  Both Trang and Helen were small  
breasted--but they made up for that in the legs and ass  
department.  Helen's legs were shorter and thicker than  
Trang's, a little less defined muscularly, although upper body  
looked to have more muscular strength than Trang.  Both  
women believed in being strong and healthy without looking  
like weight lifters. 
        After the introductions were made, Helen said,  
"Okay, before we get started, you want to make a bet on the  
outcome of this match?" 
        Trang was taking off her cut-off jeans and T-shirt.   
She was wearing a green bikini underneath.  "What do you  
have in mind?" 
        "We wrestle for sexual domination.  If I win, you're  
my sex slave for tonight.  If you win, I am yours.  Your  
boyfriend can participate any way he wants to." 
        "Whoa!  You're pretty bold to ask for that."  Trang  
said, removing her socks and shoes.  "What makes you think  
you can last a night of lovemaking with me?"  She laughed.   
"All right.  I'm sure Gil won't mind, will you, baby?" 
        I was already so horny and hard just watching these  
ladies getting ready.  "No problem with me!" 
        "Let's get started then," Helen had said. 
        The rules were already settled.  They were going for  
a single set ending with a submission. 
        Helen kicked off her high heels and walked barefoot  
over to the far side of the lawn.  Trang was on the side of  
lawn nearest to me, doing some stretching.  The August  
summer night was still warm, the light fading but enough so  
that we didn't need to turn on the porch lights.  "Okay ladies,  
go!"  I said. 
        Trang and Helen started to circle around each other,  
eyes locked.  Helen made darting grabs at Trang's legs,  
designed to fake her out.  "Come on, honey!"  Helen said.   
"Come on, make a move, let's see what you got."  But Trang  
kept moving and circling Helen. 
        Finally, Helen darted an arm out and reached  
Trang's thigh.  But Trang caught the arm with her left, pulled  
Helen in, and grabbed Helen's neck in a hammerlock with  
her right arm.  Helen groaned under the pressure Trang  
exerted. 
        Trang used both arms to increase the pressure on  
Helen.  This left Helen's hands free, and as she was bent over,  
she picked up one of Trang's lovely legs, sending Trang off- 
balance and falling on her back.  Helen fell on top of her, and  
the fall made Trang release her grip.  Helen quickly seized  
the opportunity to straddle over Trang, fold both arms over  
Trang's chest and arms, to pin her against the grass.  "Arggh!  
Arggh! Arrgh!" Helen grunted, pressing against Trang. 
        Trang's legs weren't pinned.  She used her legs to  
shift part of her body sideways.  Helen reached her leg over to  
lock Trang's leg, but in doing so her chest-press stopped, and  
Trang's hands grabbed Helen's hands.  The two megababes  
were now grappling sideways on the ground for superiority.   
The eyes locked with each other's as they grunted and  
sputtered. 
        "Give it up, Trang!  I'm better than you." 
        "Aie-yahhhhhh!" Trang yelled.  "You're going to  
get it, bitch!"  Trang released her grip on Helen's hands and  
went for her hair, pulling it, and Helen's head, face-first into  
the grass.  Trang kept  Helen's head pressed to the ground as  
she maneuvered herself up on Helen's back.  Trang then used  
her arms to full-nelson Helen's neck, and brought her up for  
air. 
        "Now YOU give it up, bitch!"  Helen said nothing  
but gasped for breath, testing Trang's hold. 
        "Aie-yah!" Trang yelled, and pressed Helen's face  
into the grass again.  Helen pressed her arms into the ground,  
and leveraged part of her body up.  Helen used her legs to get  
up also--but couldn't stand up completely, as Trang pressed  
her pelvis against Helen's butt while maintaining the nelson.   
Helen, her face now beat-red with exertion, used one jerky  
press-back motion to send Trang falling on her back, and  
Helen's back fell against Trang's chest and stomach. 
        Helen was now free of the nelson.  She rolled over to  
get up, but Trang quickly encircled her mid-section with her  
legs to perform a scissor hold.  Trang pushed against the  
ground with her arms to apply more leverage to Helen's mid- 
section.  The scissor was applied for a while, and I admired  
Trang's trembling legs, the grunting coming from both  
women. 
        Helen used one of arms against one of Trang's  
ankles, trying to pull apart.  Suddenly, Helen turned and  
shifted her body weight, breaking the scissor, forcing Trang  
to collapse on her stomach.  Helen quickly sat up, grabbed  
both of Trang's ankles, forced them against her thighs, and  
sat on them with a violent thud.  She grabbed Trang by her  
hair, and pushed her head into the grass.  Helen kept her face  
pressed for a few seconds, then jerked Trang's head back into  
the air, bending her neck.  Then Helen pumped her knees to  
go up and come down violently on Trang's bent ankles. 
        It had been a long time since I saw Trang fight  
someone this good.  I marveled at Helen's fierce  
determination to subdue my girlfriend.  My penis was about  
to burst out of my shorts. 
        Helen repeated the up-and-down motion against  
Trang, riding her like a donkey.  Trang put her arms out on  
the ground to prevent her head from slamming into the grass.   
Helen realized this, and grabbed Trang's wrists, pulling her  
arms back, bending her spine into the air. 
        "Wanna breathe, honey?  Suck in all of it you want!"   
Helen taunted her. 
        Trang cried out in pain, but would not submit.  She  
shifted her body to the right as much as possible, and with her  
left hand, grabbed hold of Helen's hair, and yanked down  
hard.  It surprised Helen enough to release her hold on Trang.   
Helen rolled over on the ground and came up on her feet,  
while Trang stood up also. 
        Helen did not give Trang any time to recover.  She  
charged Trang like an animal, ducking down and encircling  
her midsection in a bear hold, and lifted Trang off her feet!   
Trang yelped as Helen gave a strong jerk against her  
diaphragm, squeezing the air out of my darling Chinese  
femizon.  I saw a look of panic come over my beloved's face.   
Trang's hands were on Helen's shoulders to steady herself,  
and she seemed trapped.  Helen continued to squeeze her.   
Then, out of sheer desperation, Trang drew her arms back,  
and brought her palms smacking in hard against Helen's ears.   
She brought them down violently against Helen's ears, once,  
twice, three, four times--then Helen finally dropped Trang,  
clutching her head in pain. 
        Trang seized advantage of this opportunity.  She got  
behind Helen, applied a choke hold around her throat with  
one arm, bending Helen's right arm behind her back with the  
other.  Trang then did a strange thing--she fell backward,  
bringing Helen down right on top of her.  Helen was too  
dazed to resist.  Trang had maintained both holds during the  
fall, and now brought legs around Helen's, locking them  
under her control. 
        Then Trang sat up. Trang stretched her legs out to  
the side, bringing Helen's with her.  Trang was incredibly  
flexible--and used this flexibility to stretch Helen's legs and  
cause her incredible pain.  Then, Trang leaned forward,  
forcing Helen's upper body closer and closer to the ground. 
        "Better give up before I break something," Trang  
taunted her, smiling at me.  I couldn't have been more turned  
on, watching Trang's wonderful legs wrapped around  
Helen's. 
        Helen gasped and yelled, "Go to hell."  Her face was  
really red now.  She flailed her left arm about, grabbing  
Trang's hair, but she had no leverage to use against her.   
Trang pressed against her upper body even more, and  
stretched her legs out even further.  Helen started to yell and  
scream.  "All right!  Stop! Stop!" 
        Trang didn't let her go immediately.  "So tell me  
now, who's the strongest one?" 
        "Aieee...you are...bitch!" 
        "And you're going to be my willing slave for  
tonight?" 
        "Yes!  Owwww....I'll do anything you want." 
        Trang released the nelson on Helen, leaned back on  
the grass with her arms, and untwined her legs from Helen's.   
Sweat glistened off Trang's chest, stomach, and legs.  It had  
been a short fight, but had taken a lot of strength to win.  She  
watched Helen with amusement as she crumpled to her side. 
        I couldn't wait any longer.  I shed my shorts, shirt,  
sandals, and walked naked over to my lovely Trang, who  
fought so well for me.  My penis shot out horizontally from  
my body like a rod.  I bent down to grab Trang's bikini  
bottom and pulled them right off her tanned, gleaming legs.  I  
spread her legs apart and laid down between them, shoving  
my dick into her hot, wet cunt.  Wrestling always made her so  
horny, too.  I removed her top and starting jamming myself  
into her, kissing her and playing with tongue in-between  
gasps of air and mutterings of passion. 
        "You're so good, baby...you're so strong...." 
        "My victories are for you...." 
        I came quickly and with a jolt that comes only after I  
see two women wrestle.  My dick was still hard and I kept  
moving inside Trang until she came shortly thereafter. 
        I laid down on the grass, feeling high from the rush  
of adrenaline and passion.  This was better than any drug or  
sport I had ever tried before. 
        After a few minutes, I noticed that Helen had sat up,  
her face color now having returned to white.  She was looking  
at my fading penis.  She crawled over and straddled my waist.   
"Got any left for me, lover boy?" 
        Trang stood up, totally naked, and walked over to  
Helen, grabbing her by the hair.  "Don't worry, slave--you'll  
get a good fucking tonight!"  And then Trang led Helen by  
the hair into the house to begin the night's festivities.  After  
resting for a few more minutes, my dick started to rise at the  
thought of them together, and I got up to follow them inside  
the house. 
 
 
Part 2 
 
The inside of the house was cool and well decorated.  Trang  
made her slave bring her some water, replenishing herself  
after the bout on the lawn.  She let Helen drink, too.  Then  
they went into Helen's bedroom.  It was large and roomy,  
with a king size bed.  I sat in a chair by the corner, drinking  
water, watching Trang push Helen onto the bed gently.  She  
removed Helen's bikini and lay down naked on top of her;  
small breast touching small breast, cunt touching cunt.  Trang  
kissed Helen's mouth and stroked her upper torso, ass, and  
legs. 
        Helen got very passionate, kissing Trang intensely,  
grabbing Trang's ass with hands.  They were both extremely  
aroused in each other's company. 
        "Not so fast, honey," Trang said as she grabbed  
Helen's hands and pinned them above her head.  "We've got  
the whole night ahead of us."  Trang shook back her head,  
whipping her hair around her naked back, as if to say, I'm the  
queen her.  She said to me,  "Get me my special strap-on,  
baby." 
        From Trang's purse, I pulled out a 6-inch dildo that  
was attached to 4 elastic straps.  "Oh my god...." Helen said. 
        "We're gonna have some fun now," Trang told her.   
Trang stood up on her knees over Helen while I strapped the  
dildo around Trang's waist.  Once it was secure, she took  
Helen's legs, lifted them upright, and plunged the dildo into  
Helen's vagina.  Trang continued thrusting the dildo into  
Helen, her hands pressing Helen's legs in the air, her pelvis  
and marvelous buns gyrating with each thrust.  Helen reached  
up to grab Trang's ass.  I could hear the wonderful sound of  
Helen's moistness as the dildo went into her again and again. 
        They continued fucking that way for some time.  I  
watched and my penis became so erect it was pointing  
straight up.  Trang went slow with Helen, but finally it looked  
like Helen was going to come. 
She withdrew the dildo. 
        "What...why did you stop?"  Helen asked. 
        "Shut up and do what you're told"  Trang snapped  
back.  "Roll over on your stomach.  Gil, give me a condom  
and a lube."  
        Trang took the condom and put it on her index  
finger.  I took the lubricant and poured it over the finger  
while I kissed Trang several times. 
        Trang took the finger with the lubed condom and  
stuck it inside Helen's anus.  Helen's back jerked with a jolt,  
but Trang steadied her with her free left hand.  "Easy, honey.   
We're gonna get you opened up real nice and easy." 
        I laid down on the bed next to them and pulled out  
another condom.  I lubed it, then my own dick while I  
watched Trang stick two fingers in the condom and plunge  
them into Helen's ass, then three, then finally four fingers.   
"Okay, we're ready." 
        Trang mounted Helen, sticking the dildo into her  
ass.  I moved to Trang's rear, watch her torso pump the dildo  
into Helen's rear chassis.  Helen was moaning in pain and  
begging Trang to stop.  But Trang merely grabbed Helen's  
hair, raised her head, and said, "Why don't you squeal like a  
pig?" 
        I shoved my own finger, wrapped in a similar  
sheath, into Trang's butt.  She shivered in delight.  I widened  
her anus in the same way she opened Helen's.  Then I stuck  
my penis in her ass.  She recoiled from the entry and fell  
down momentarily onto Helen's back.  "Aiee-yahhh....You're  
just so goddamn big and hot....I feel like I have a burning log  
up my butt.....but it's so gooood.....aiee-yahhh!" 
        I started pumped Trang's butt, slowly at first,  
working up speed as went along.  I tried not to put too much  
weight on her, as Trang lifted herself up again, and started  
pumping Helen's ass with the dildo, my gyrations matching  
hers.  It felt like I was banging two chicks' butt at the same  
time!  I marveled at their wonderful backsides, sweat dripping  
off their backs.  I finally came like a rocket, the explosion  
widening Trang's anus all the more.  She yelled as it  
happened, it was painful, but it was the kind of pain she  
liked.  We had to wait for my dick to get small, then I finally  
withdrew it and Trang slumped on the bed on her back. 
        I laid down as well, on the other side of Helen.  We  
were all catching our breath for a few minutes. 
        After a while, Helen sat up on her knees and  
straddled my lap.  She sat her cunt on my dick and brushed  
the lips of it against my now tiny penis.  "Your girlfriend  
forgot to finish me off...but I think I can get you to do the  
job." 
        As she rubbed herself against me, I felt my dick  
stiffening harder.  Helen leaned down and started kissing me  
on the mouth, sucking my tongue, grabbing at my ass.  We  
continued our foreplay until Helen deemed my erection big  
enough for her, and slipped it into her vagina.  She started  
moving up and down.  I touched her clitoris and she  
moaned...and then let out a yell.  But she did not come. 
        Trang was standing above her in the bed.  She had  
pulled Helen off of me by her hair.  "You bitch!  You don't  
get his dick until I say you can have it.  Is that clear-- 
SLAVE?" 
        Helen was angry then.  She looked like she wanted  
to slug Trang, but hadn't the strength left to do it.  "Yes, you  
cunt." 
        "Aie-yuuuhhh!" Trang cried, and whacked Helen  
hard on her buns.  "You want his dick--take it now!" 
        She pulled Helen by the hair around, with Helen's  
back facing me.  Then she forced Helen back down on top of  
me, and I guided Helen's buns downward so that my burning  
shaft went into her anus, made ready-to-order from Trang's  
dildo humping. 
        "Oh god!  Oh god!  Not again!"  Helen cried out. 
        "Hold her arms and her legs, baby.  She's struggling  
too much.  Let her know she can't get away."  Trang told me.   
I wrapped my legs around Helen's and did likewise with her  
arms, to prevent her thrashing about. 
        Then Trang got on top of Helen.  She kissed and  
played with Helen's cute little breasts, kissed the inside of her  
ears which drove Helen crazy, then licked her vagina and  
clitoris.  Whenever Helen seemed likely to come to a climax,  
Trang would stop what she was doing and rest or move on to  
something else.  When I would start to get too soft, she would  
help pump Helen's pelvis against my dick. 
        We played with Helen in various different ways for  
the better part of the evening, until about 2am, Trang finally  
let Helen have an orgasm by having her sit on top of Trang's  
face while she ate at Helen's cunt.  At the same time, I was  
eating Trang's love-box, and made her come shortly after  
Helen did.  After that, none of us had any more energy to do  
anything but sleep. 
 
The next morning we all woke up at around 10am.  Helen  
was the first up, jumping in her shower and cleaning the sex  
off of her from the night before.  She put on a white terrycloth  
robe, and laid a blue and a green robe for myself and Trang.   
As Helen went into the kitchen and made breakfast, Trang  
and I showered and put on our robes and joined her in the  
kitchen. 
        We were greeted by a smiling Helen and the smell of  
cinnamon coffee, toasted bagels, and oatmeal with raisins.   
        "Come on in, eat,"  Helen said.  "You must be  
hungry after the energy we expended last night."  She kissed  
me and Trang on the cheek and handed us our cups of coffee.   
The "slavery" verbal contract had expired after we fell asleep;  
now we were three equals.  I marveled at how Helen could be  
so friendly after what Trang had put her through. 
        At first, we ate and sipped our coffee in silence.   
Trang was never much of one for talking in the morning, and  
neither am I.  We read the newspaper Helen had laid out for  
us and slowly felt the energy returning to our bodies.  After  
clearing the plates and serving us more coffee, Helen, now  
acting like the perfect housewife, took off to a back part of the  
house and came back with a surprise.  
        I heard the jangling of his neck chain and heavy  
breath before I saw him. 
        "This is Woofie." Helen said, bringing in a healthy  
Labrador retriever into the room.  I reached down to pet him  
and he friskily licked my hands and face.  He went over to  
Trang's hand to smell and lick it, but she jerked her hand  
away quickly.  Dogs, especially good-sized ones like Woofie,  
always frightened the hell out of her since she was a kid. 
        "I'm afraid Trang doesn't get along with dogs,"  I  
told Helen.  "Where did you keep him all night?" 
        "Oh, I locked him into one of the back bedrooms.  I  
didn't want him to see our little contest--he gets so upset if he  
ever sees me in a fight." 
        Helen took Woofie out to the back porch and left him  
there.  She came back in and drank her coffee, and soon the  
two women began chatting about gardening and hiking.  I  
continued reading the paper ignoring their chat, and soon I  
needed to take a piss. 
        Coming back from the bathroom, I took a look  
around the living room, which had been dark the previous  
night.  I noticed 5 television sets against the wall.  It looked  
like a very strange set up. 
        "Hey, what is all this equipment for here?"  I yelled  
over to Helen. 
        "Oh, so you've discovered my fancy tape making  
studio!"  Helen said, walking into the living room, Trang  
following her.  She began to turn on the monitors, which  
seemed to be viewing the same room at 5 different angles. 
        "What is this?"  I asked her.  "Where is this room we  
are viewing?" 
        "It's in there."  Trang pointed, into what I had  
assumed was a formal dining room. 
        "Yes,"  Helen answered, leading us both into the  
room.  It was a room about 500 square feet big, with two  
doors on either side.  One door entered from the living room,  
the other from the kitchen.  But there was no dining table or  
furniture of any kind in the room.  Instead of carpet there was  
a large, thick, aqua blue wrestling mat covering the entire  
floor.  "This is the Fuck-Fight Room." 
        Trang noticed something funny about the floor as  
she walked around.  She jumped up high and came down on  
the mat.  There were vibrations. 
        "Yes,"  Helen answered her.  The floor the mats lie  
upon have special coils between them and the ground.   
You're less likely to get injured this way." 
        "Wow!"  I exclaimed.  "You've spent a small fortune  
to get your own wrestling ring in your own home!" 
        "It's not a wrestling ring."  Trang said.  "It's..." 
        "...the Fuck-Fight Room."  Helen finished. 
        "How is that different from what occurred last  
night?"  I asked her. 
        "Oh, it's very different," Helen replied.  "Here there  
are no rules.  Anything can happen.  My opponent and I enter  
the room, totally naked.  We wear nothing that could be used  
as a weapon.  The minute we are both inside, the doors get  
locked behind us.  The only way to open them is with my  
thumb print against this plate."  She pointed to an optical  
reader near the door.  "Then we fight with whatever means  
necessary to subdue the other.  We fight for the right to  
enslave the other for an entire day.  For my opponent to win  
this right, total submission is not necessary--she only needs to  
force my thumb over that plate.  For me to win, I must  
dominate her physically and wring a submission out of her." 
        "Or..." Trang started. 
        "Or I could have knocked her out or injured her to  
the point where my victory is obvious."  Helen said.  "It's so  
unsatisfying when your victim has to be leave because they  
are too bloody.  It won't be that way with you, will it, my  
dear?" 
        "Ha!"  Trang laughed.  "You sure you want to fight  
me again?  After I trounced you last night?" 
        "I'm dead serious.  I want to fight you right here and  
now.  And I want your man to screw me whenever I demand  
it after I win." 
        "What makes you think he wants to screw an old  
cow like you?"  Trang was getting mad at Helen now.  I was  
getting aroused at the thought of them fighting in the room,  
naked, and without any rules or interference. 
        "Maybe it was because I watched you making love  
last night, and I know I can give him a better time than some  
dumb cunt from overseas!" 
        I saw Trang get really mad then.  No one calls her a  
cunt, and nobody insults her heritage.  "All right, lady!   
You're gonna need your health insurance." 
        "You accept my terms?" 
        "I'm gonna make you regret you ever came up with  
them." 
        "And what about you, big man?"  Helen asked me.   
"Are you going to service me with your king-size cock after I  
beat your baby into submission?" 
        I looked at Trang, who nodded to me.  "I agree to  
your terms, although you may regret them after my little pit- 
fighter is done with you." 
        Helen laughed sarcastically.  "Okay, stand outside  
the kitchen door, remove your clothes, and get ready to step  
inside when I give the word.  Lover boy, only fighters are  
allowed in here.  You'll have to watch this on the screens  
over there." 
        Trang and I stepped outside the kitchen door.   
"Trang, listen baby, maybe this isn't such a good idea.  I  
don't like it." 
        "Relax, honey,"  Trang said, slipping off her robe.   
She placed her arms around my shoulders and kissed me on  
the lips.  "I know I can take her again."  I caressed her perfect  
little breasts for a few seconds.  "Soon you'll be humping me  
in victory.  Get that big magic bus ready." 
        "OK, step inside!"  Helen yelled across the room. 
        Trang turned and walked inside the door.  I watched  
her wonderfully toned, brown buns go inside, and the door  
close and lock behind her.  As guilt, fear, and lust all welled  
up inside me, I rushed into the living room to look at the  
monitors. 
 
 
Part 3 
 
I reached the monitors in time to see both nude women  
calmly walk into the room, eyes locked on each other's face.   
Helen started taunting Trang. 
        "You're far too trusting, my dear.  I was easy on you  
last night.  I wanted to test your strength and your viciousness  
before I fought you in this room.  But now I know exactly  
how to dominate you." 
        "Yeah?"  Trang replied, her lip curled in disdain for  
her opponent.  "Come over here and show me, you overaged  
bimbo!" 
        Helen launched herself against Trang with an animal  
snarl.  I could see a look of utter contempt on Helen's face  
also.  Trang ran to meet Helen, and suddenly the two naked  
women were enjoined in a gnarling hug.  They looked like  
they were in a lovers embrace, but they were clawing, biting,  
tearing at each other.  Little cat-like screams emanated from  
both of them. 
        Trang ran her fingernails down Helen's back and bit  
her earlobe and cheeks.  Helen bit into Trang's shoulder,  
neck, and face.  Meanwhile, Helen's claws dug in fiercely  
into Trang's bare buns.  She kept working them into Trang's  
butt, stabbing and clenching them over and over in the same  
location, while Trang did not scratch any one place too long  
on Helen's body.  Soon, I saw Trang stop biting Helen and let  
out a bloody scream. 
        Knowing that Trang was temporarily surprised,  
Helen used some leverage against Trang to drive her straight  
back into a wall, hard.  This stunned Trang long enough for  
Helen to grab hold of Trang's knees, lifted her legs in the air,  
and caused Trang to fall down with her back slumped against  
the wall.  Helen drug Trang's body out from the wall a bit  
and dove her body into Trang's midsection, holding and  
pressing her legs down.  She did this to Trang a few times,  
before Trang recovered and caught Helen by pulling back her  
legs and kicking against Helen's stomach.  Helen flew across  
the room onto her back, but she was up on her feet about the  
same time as Trang was. 
        Now the two women circled each other warily.   
Helen darted her hands in and out, trying to get hold of  
Trang.  But with a lightning move, Trang with a quick snap  
of her right arm landed two blows against Helen's face,  
connecting once with the nose, then quickly shifted position  
and kicked Helen's chin, knocking her on her back.  
        Trang pounced on Helen, sat down on top of her,  
backwards, her bare ass against Helen's throat, and placed  
her knees on top of Helen's arms.  Then Trang grabbed hold  
of Helen's legs and bent them backwards.  Helen's legs flailed  
in the air, but Trang had all the leverage against her. 
        "Ha! Ha! Ha!"  Trang laughed, shaking her head  
back and forth.  "Who is showing who now?" 
        It seemed like Helen had no where to go.  But my  
darling did not think of everything.  Applying the hold, her  
beautiful buns inched closer to Helen's face.  I saw Helen  
open her mouth wide, and chomp down hard on right ass  
cheek, right in the same spot where she had clawed Trang so  
viciously before. 
        "Aie-yuhhh!" Trang yelled, and let go of Helen's  
legs.  She turned back and slapped Helen with the back of her  
hand across Helen's bloody nose very hard.  The slap forced  
Helen to stop biting Trang's bun, but in angry retaliation, she  
brought her legs backwards, having her ankles grab hold of  
Trang's neck, pulling her body downward. 
        Now Helen was choking Trang with her lower legs,  
but not in an optimal position.  Trang was still laying on top  
of her.  Seeing her rear again, Helen dove her nails into the  
same wounded spots.  Trang screamed again, and reached  
back with her own hands to grab Helen's wrists, and pull  
them away.  As Trang sputtered and grunted against the force  
of Helen's legs, she brought her knees up to her chest.  In a  
quick move, she let go of Helen's hands and stood up.  She  
grabbed hold of Helen's ankles and twisted around, breaking  
the choke hold.  Helen was now lying on her stomach.  Trang  
grabbed firm hold of her ankles, bending them backward  
towards Helen's head, performing a Boston crab maneuver.   
Trang stood on Helen's arms so that she couldn't gain any  
leverage and flip her back over. 
        I could see Trang's lip protrude in a silly grin as she  
thought she once again had Helen.  She continued bending  
Helen backwards, spreading her legs wider, making her grunt  
and groan.  This continued for almost a minute.  As I  
watched I once again felt very sexually aroused by the battle.   
It felt even more intense to me than yesterday, because  
anything could happen.  If Trang won, I would go in and fuck  
her intensely as I did yesterday.  But what if Helen won?   
What if Helen wanted me and my cock so bad that she was  
willing to really hurt Trang in order to do it?  That was a turn  
on. 
        Man, you are one sick puppy, I thought to myself.   
But I continued to watch the match and do nothing to stop it. 
        Once again, there was a tiny opening in Trang's  
attack that Helen could exploit.  Trang stood on Helen's  
upper arms, but the lower arms were free.  To gain her  
freedom, Helen grabbed hold of  Trang's ankles to use as  
leverage to kick her legs harder, and also dug her nails into  
Trang's skin.  This made Trang lose concentration long  
enough for Helen to kick free of Trang's crab hold, and  
Helen's legs thudded to the ground.  Helen quickly got to her  
knees, and quickly rose up so that her head came just under  
Trang's crotch.  Trang caught Helen's midsection in a bear  
hold, trying to press her back down.  The two naked wrestlers  
strained against each other, Trang bending her knees to press  
down on Helen's back, Helen trying to push up as hard as she  
could.  The pair waddled around the room a bit in their  
awkward embrace.  Trang bit down on Helen's lower back to  
make her lose focus.  But Helen's claws once again dove into  
Trang's buns, harder than ever before.  Trang screamed, and  
lost focus long enough for Helen to completely rise and flip  
Trang over, so that she landed on her back. 
        Helen jumped on top of Trang's chest, pining her  
arms under her knees.  She slapped Trang hard against her  
face about a half dozen times very quickly.  "Let's so how  
well you take it now, baby!"  Helen balled up her right hand  
into a fist, and punched Trang's breasts repeatedly.  I heard  
Trang groaning through the door. 
        Trang raised up her legs to ensnare Helen's chest  
and rammed her back down onto the mat.  Helen quickly  
rolled away.  Both women got on their feet at about the same  
time.  I could see that Trang was furious, her face reddened  
by the blows of Helen's hand.  Helen had a look of pure  
animalistic joy, like a tigress hunting her prey.  Helen rushed  
towards Trang and fired her right fist towards Trang's head-- 
but Trang dodged the blow, caught Helen's right hand in her  
left armpit, and smashed her right elbow down hard on  
Helen's upper arm.  Trang quickly let go of Helen's arm and  
grabbed her curly black hair with both hands.  She pulled  
Helen's head down with a jerk, bringing her knee up quickly  
to smash into Helen's jaw.  With each move, Trang let out a  
short yell to psyche herself and her opponent.  With Helen  
stunned by Trang's head blow, Trang wasted no time.  She  
dug both sets of fingernails into Helen's breasts, squeezed  
hard, and pushed Helen backward against the wall.  Trang  
then took a step back and launched a series of super-quick  
blows against Helen's tits, and smashed her once again in the  
face. 
        Just as it looked Helen was done for, she reached out  
with both hands to grab Trang's shoulders, quickly jerked her  
body forward, and rammed her head into Trang's for an  
agonizing head butt that surely must have hurt both fighters.   
But Helen had planned for it, and moved through the pain  
first.  Helen rammed her right knee up into Trang's groin a  
hard three times, which made my lover double over in agony. 
        Helen spit out blood from her mouth over to the  
floor.  She then walked around Trang, grabbed hold of her  
hair, straightened her upright, only to furiously ram Trang  
into the wall, face first.  Helen dug her sharpened claws once  
again into Trang's buns. This time I could see a ripping criss- 
cross motion, and an agonizing wail erupted from my  
femizon.  Then she started hammering Trang with kidney  
punches on her right, tiny yelps and screams coming from my  
beloved. 
        Then Helen went for the finishing touch.  She  
encircled Trang's neck with her right arm, and dragged her  
backwards a few feet.  Then she suddenly dropped to one  
knee, bringing Trang's neck down on top of it. 
        The look on Trang's face was deadly.  She didn't  
even make a sound.  What have I done, What have I done?  I  
wondered to myself.  My fuck-fetish for female wrestling  
might have snapped my girlfriend's neck!  I was terrified.   
Yet, I have to say that in my fear, I was also very turned on.  I  
slipped off my robe, and saw my penis protruding almost  
straight north.  My girlfriend was getting creamed and my  
hard-on was erupting. 
        God help me, I wanted to fuck Helen's brains out.  I  
felt somewhat guilty, but gave into my naked and out-of- 
control lust. 
        Thankfully, Trang's neck was not snapped, broken,  
or injured, but the expert blow that Helen dealt her was very  
painful and momentarily paralyzing. 
        Helen did not stop.  She removed her knee and  
Trang slumped to the ground.  Helen stood over Trang,  
clasped both hands together below her waist, and dropped  
quickly to the floor, bringing her clenched fists crashing  
down into Trang's diaphragm, crushing the wind out of her.   
Trang partially sat up by reflex.  Then Helen grabbed her by  
the hair and punched her once, hard, on the nose, for  
payback. 
        Helen stood up, picked up Trang's legs and twirled  
her around on her stomach.  She took hold of Trang's calves,   
and dropped down hard again, slamming them against her  
thighs.  Helen took both of Trang's arms and bent them  
behind her back.  Then she leaned her head down and bit  
Trang's earlobe on either side.  Trang screamed bloody  
murder.  I was glad to her she was still okay--if she could  
scream, she wasn't too bad off. 
        "Give it up, Trang!  Acknowledge your mistress and  
your superior!"  Helen barked.  But Trang squinted and shook  
her head, writhing around, trying to find some way out of the  
hold.  Helen pressed her body even harder against Trang's,  
increased the pressure on her arms, and bit hard into several  
places along Trang's neck and back.  Both women were  
sweating and had blood coming out of the noses and lips, but  
Helen looked gleeful as she recognized the moment of  
triumph.  That sweet moment when one woman has total  
control over another woman in the physical, mental, and  
sexual areas of her being. 
        "Aieeeeeeeeeee" Trang screamed.  "I....give...." 
        "What was that, my pet?"  Helen asked, "I can't hear  
you!"  And bit Trang's earlobes again. 
        Trang screamed again.  "I give up.  You are...my one  
true mistress.  Please...please stop!" 
        Helen released Trang's arms and pushed her head  
into the mat.  "Don't fuck with eagles if you don't know how  
to fly, honey." 
        Then the victor stood up and went over to a cupboard  
in the room.  She removed a towel and wiped the blood and  
sweat off her face.  Helen looked directly into the video  
camera, addressing me: "You better honor your word, or I'll  
really hurt her." 
        I ran to the door of the Fuck-Fight Room.  "Don't  
worry, I'll live up to my word!  Just stop the fighting--she's  
had enough!" 
        The doors opened slowly with a hum.  I saw Trang  
lying on her back, eyes closed, breathing heavily.  Helen was  
looking at my penis that was bobbing up and down. 
        "Oh, you like me!"  Helen said coyly.  "You really,  
really like me!" 
        Totally naked, I rushed over to Helen and embraced  
her.  She was sweaty, sticky, but I reveled in the taste of her  
victory.  I kissed her passionately and my penis rubbed up  
against her vagina.  I quickly picked her up by the legs and  
put her back against the wall.  She reached down and grabbed  
hold of my dick and guided it into her cunt  I pumped her  
hard up against the wall with my piston. 
        "I'd like to thank my personal trainer..."  Helen  
whispered.  "The members of the academy...that's so  
good...don't stop...don't stop."   
         I continued my gyrations. 
        "Oh...Oh...set me down...I need to lay down," Helen  
gasped.  I began to set her down on the mat when she stopped  
me.  "No...set me down...on top of her." 
        I didn't stop to think, I just laid her down very  
gently, so that her head rested near Trang's breasts, who  
reacted feebly. 
        Helen guided me into her again, and placed her  
hands on my hips to show me the rhythm she wanted.  While  
I pumped my rod into her, I kissed her on the mouth and  
played with her breasts.  She seemed ready to come soon, and  
wrapped her arms around Trang's legs for leverage, to swivel  
her hips and get the motion she needed.   
        "Oh what a good fuck...go! go! go!" 
        She came then, but my orgasm would be much more  
prolonged.  I kept going and going.  Finally, Helen turned  
around and we fucked doggie style.  She lay her chest down  
on Trang's, grabbed the nearby towel, and wiped the blood  
off Trang's face.  Helen grabbed hold of Trang's hands and  
pressed them above her head on the floor.  She swirled her  
tongue around Trang's nipples, kissed her on the mouth and  
face. Trang seemed to stir and respond. 
        "Oh, honey," Helen said to her, looking into her  
eyes.  "What a good fuck your boyfriend is giving me. Oooff!   
And he's so much more excited with me than he was with  
you yesterday.  Ahhh!  Guess he just needed a real woman,  
huh?  Don't worry, I'll give him back to you  
someday...woof!...when I'm bored with him...oh my god, it's  
so big!"  She kissed Trang deeply on the mouth, snapped her  
head up and gave out a cunning laugh.   
        "Yes! Yes! Yes!" Helen yelled, coming again. 
        Watching her taunt Trang gave me that extra  
excitement I needed to come, taking off inside Helen like a  
NASA rocket at the launch bay in Cape Canaveral. 
        I rolled over onto my back.  Helen slipped off of  
Trang and lay on top of me, resting her head on my chest.   
We caressed each other and enjoyed our post-wrestling-fuck  
high for about five minutes, enjoying the endorphins  
exploding through our brains. 
        Then Helen touched my face and said, "Your  
girlfriend's bleeding all over the place.  Take her into the  
bathroom and doctor her up.  Use the medicine cabinet for  
her wounds.  Put her in our bed, then come join me over there  
in the guest bedroom for a bath." 
        I reached under Trang's shoulders and got her to  
stand up, somewhat shakily.  I kissed her cheek and  
whispered praises for her spirit in her ear. 
        "Hurry up,"  Helen commanded, a sexy, sly grin on  
her face.  "The fun's only just begun..." 
 
Part 4 
 
The shower managed to revive Trang a bit--only to remind  
her how much pain she was in. The water hit her scratched  
and cut skin, stinging like hell.  She stopped bleeding almost  
immediately, and I inspected her buns as she stepped out of  
the shower.  Trang looked like she had been mauled by a  
tigress.  I rubbed a special herbal salve that Helen kept in the  
medical cabinet on Trang's buns, then bandaged them up so  
that she could at least sit down comfortably.  I gave her an  
aspirin to dull the pain and a valium to help her relax.  I put  
her into Helen's bed and rubbed a deep-heating gel into her  
muscles. 
        Trang didn't say too much to me, exhausted as she  
was.  I knew she was kicking herself for letting Helen get the  
better of her.  But after my massage and tiny kisses, she  
quietly went to sleep. 
        I walked back to the kitchen, still naked.  There was  
a bedroom adjoining the kitchen, and entering there I heard  
the sounds of Helen, soaking in a huge bathtub. 
        "Come on in, lover boy," Helen seductively purred,  
"The water's fine and the company's not too bad, either." 
        I stepped into the warm, soapy water and slid on top  
of Helen's firm body.  My arms encircled her chest and I  
kissed her passionately on the lips. 
        "I need a massage, darling,"  Helen said, flipping  
over on her stomach.  "Your little kitten put a few kinks in  
my back." 
        I began massaging her broad shoulders.  Helen's  
neck and back muscles were as tight as steel cables. 
        "God!  You're so tight.  It takes all the strength in  
my hands just to loosen you up a little bit." 
        "You're doin' fine, darlin'.  Uuugghh!  Fuck- 
fighting ain't for the weak, not even when it's against a  
rookie like your little pet." 
        "She had you on the ropes for a few moments in  
there...if she was totally fresh, it might have ended  
differently." 
        "Ohhh, you're so loyal.  Dumb, but loyal.  I admire  
that...down lower...lower...that's it, there!" 
        "So, how many women have you lured into your  
little room there?" 
        "I lost track after the first dozen or so..." 
        My penis had settled along the crack between her  
ass.  As I massaged and admired Helen's wonderful back, it  
grew ever more rigid once again. 
        "Ummmm...your big boy is coming back again."   
Helen started rubbing her ass gently against my penis.  "Tell  
me, what's the bigger turn on for you?" 
        "What?" 
        "Seeing your girlfriend trounce another lady for  
you...or watching her get her ass kicked over you?" 
        I thought about it for a few seconds, but my  
psychoanalytical skills were rapidly fading as she pressed her  
buns up against the undershaft of my hard-on. 
        "Both have a pretty good effect on me..." 
        Helen laughed. 
        "Let me stick it in your ass like I did last night.  It  
was sooooo good." 
        "You like a little ass fucking, huh?  You're a little  
fetishist after my own heart." 
        "Sodomy, Asian girls, female wrestling, amazonian  
babes, a little light torture, I got 'em all, sweetheart!"  I  
pointed the tip of my dick at Helen's asshole. 
        She stepped out of the tub, tiny little waterfalls  
hitting the rug.  "Not now, buddy.  At least not yet.  If you're  
good and play along with me, I might give you a treat later." 
        I followed her out of the tub.  "You're going to let  
such a good hard-on go to waste?" 
        Helen dabbed at her body with a towel.  "I never  
waste anything, honey!"  She leaned her body forward,  
placing her hands on the sink for support, and spread her  
legs.  "Come on, give it to me from the rear!  I want to watch  
you fuck me in the mirror!" 
        I slipped my bulging penis into her vagina from  
behind.  Helen moaned and I heard the wet, slapping sound of  
my dick sliding in and out of her hole.  I poked her slowly for  
a few minutes there in that position. 
        "Helen, you want to try a wheelbarrow?" 
        "A wheelbarrow?  Woof...what's that?" 
        "I'll show you.  Let's keep my dick inside you, and  
move over to the toilet."  I guided her over to it.  "Now grip  
the lid very securely.  I am going to pick up your legs and  
you'll be doing a hand stand." 
        Helen let out a yelp as I gripped her calves and  
pulled them up to my chest.  But she managed to keep her  
grip on the toilet lid. 
        "Now I am going to pull you off the lid and onto the  
carpet.  Get ready."  I gently pulled her onto the carpet.  My  
dick almost completely slid out of her vagina.  But I gripped  
Helen by her outer thighs and pulled her cunt closer to my  
crotch. 
        "Oh god!  God!  I can't fucking believe this!"  Helen  
exclaimed, standing on her hands. 
        "Now you'll see why it's called the wheelbarrow!   
Let's go forward." 
        I gently walked her into the bedroom, taking tiny  
hand-steps toward the extra bed.  We wound up fucking like  
crazed animals on the bed, taking more time to play with  
each other during and afterward. 
 
After our passions were spent, or perhaps I should say,  
paused, we realized that we were both incredibly hungry.  We  
wolfed down tons of food, water, and Gatorade in the kitchen.   
We rested in the kitchen for a while, as Helen told me of  
some of the other women she had fought in her special room.   
She tried to entice me into leaving Trang for her, but I  
assured her that I would not do that. 
        Almost immediately after I said that, Helen realized  
she had forgotten something.  "I gotta go play with my new  
gal-pal."  She stood up and started walking into the living  
room.  I followed her.  I was tired, but I could feel my libido  
making a comeback. 
        "Uh-uh, lover boy," Helen told me, fiddling with  
some switches on her monitors.  The picture on them changed  
to several different views of her bedroom where Trang slept.   
"This is between just us girls.  But you can watch us in here." 
        "I promise not to interfere.  You can do anything you  
want to her." 
        "I'm not gonna do anything to her she hasn't already  
done to me, baby."  Helen padded over to me in her bare body  
and feet, and grabbed hold of my penis.  "Keep it up and keep  
it stiff.  But don't come till I get back to give ya a treat you'll  
never forget." 
        Helen gave me a kiss, then quickly raced to the  
bedroom and threw the door locked shut behind her. 
        Again, I was consigned to watching my poor, dear,  
helpless Trang at the mercy of this hellion. 
        I saw Helen enter the room and remove several  
objects from a nightstand, setting them up on the bed.  She  
removed the sheets and bedcovers to reveal Trang's naked  
body. 
        Helen then proceeded to have sex with Trang in  
much the same way that Trang had done to her last night.   
Starting off tenderly, kissing and stroking her nipples and  
clitoris, Helen taunted Trang with mutterings that I was going  
to leave her for Helen.  She got Trang wound up to the point  
of an orgasm, then stopped doing everything to flip her over  
onto her stomach.   
        Then Helen strapped her own dildo around her  
waist.  "Your gal ain't gonna like this much, honey, but I sure  
am!"  She exclaimed into the camera, first strapping on, then  
lubing the dildo with a gel.  It didn't seem as big as the one  
Trang had used last night, by a long shot.  I also noticed  
something that seemed like a battery pack on the rear of the  
strap-on that rested against Helen's back. 
        Helen slipped the tiny shaft into Trang's ass, who  
squealed.   
        "I'm startin' the engines, honey!"  Helen yelled.  She  
clicked a button, which activated the ingenious device.  It  
expanded the shaft inside Trang's butt slowly, but also  
vibrated against Helen's own clitoris and vagina, stimulating  
her as well.  The shaft grew bigger and bigger, and I saw  
Helen grab Trang's wrists and pull, arching her backward  
again, to drive the shaft deeper and deeper into her.  Trang  
pleaded and begged with her new mistress to stop, but Helen  
kept on humping her butt.  Helen finally stopped rubbing  
against her slave when the vibrator made her squeal with  
delight, although it looked like the orgasm was caused as  
much by the psychological domination of Trang as much as  
the physical pleasure. 
        Helen withdrew the vibrator and flipped Trang over,  
who was grimacing from the pain. 
        "Awww, my pet, let me make it all better."  Again  
Helen proceeded to make love to Trang in a tender and  
gingerly manner.  It took about fifteen minutes for Trang to  
soften up and trust her mistress again. 
        Needless to say, that in the living room, as I rested  
back on the couch and watched them stroking and caressing  
each other, my penis was once again standing at attention.   
So far, I wasn't worried for Trang.  She had lost a couple of  
other battles to other women in our past together, and so far  
the sexual domination hadn't been out of the ordinary from  
what her other mistresses had done to her.  That was about to  
change. 
        Helen pulled out a special vibrator and turned it on.   
I saw that this vibrator had two prongs on it.  One was the  
vibrator for the cunt, the other prong was much shorter, like a  
thumb, and had some kind of small twirling wheel on it.  She  
started probing the vibrator into Trang with her right hand,  
caressing her clitoris and breasts with her left, kissing her  
occasionally.  I soon understood what the wheel on the thumb  
was for.  It was to stimulate Trang's little butt-hole by  
brushing and tickling it as the main prong slid in and out of  
her cunt.  The effect was stimulating. 
        Soon, Trang was near-orgasmic, moaning, thrashing  
her arms about the mattress.  But Helen pulled out the  
vibrator and turned it off.  She stopped touching Trang and  
merely watched her. 
        "Oh, mistress!  Mistress!  Mistress!"  Trang wailed.   
She reached her hands down between her thighs, but Helen  
grabbed her arms and pined them above her head.  "Please let  
me come.  Please!  I'll do anything you say." 
        "You will, my pretty kitty-cat?"  Helen asked,  
observing Trang's helplessness.  "I'll let you have that  
orgasm...but you may regret it later!" 
        Helen grabbed some handcuffs out of the nightstand.   
I heard the bedroom door unlock, and Helen walked out,  
dragging Trang by the hair behind her.  She took Trang down  
the hallway towards a room I hadn't been in, and ordered me  
to stay in the living room.  I wondered when I was going to  
get my next orgasm as well!   
        Helen walked out into the living room a few minutes  
later.  "Close your eyes."  She commanded.  "Don't open  
them until I tell you." 
        I heard Helen go into the kitchen.  I listened to the  
grinding gears of the can opener, and Helen running quickly  
back into the room where she had led Trang.  Sounds of  
Trang squealing in horror, but not pain.  Then Helen came  
back into the living room and told me to go back and took a  
look at Trang. 
        I raced into the last room in Helen's house that I had  
not yet seen.  It was bare.  No furniture at all.  But on the  
floor lay Trang on her back, legs and arms spread diagonally,  
handcuffed to circular, metallic rings embedded into the floor.   
And on her naked body, from her breasts, her stomach, to her  
crotch, lay mounds of moist dog food.  An especially big  
clump of dog food lay on top of cunt. 
        "Gil!  She's a crazy bitch!  Get me out of here right  
now!" 
        I hesitated for an instant.  I knew what was going to  
happen.  I knew Trang's fear of big dogs.  But my dick  
hardened at the thought of seeing it happen. 
        "Gil!  Hurry before she comes back!" 
        "Too late, dear."  Helen appeared, naked in the  
doorway, wearing her black high heels.  Woofie the Labrador  
retriever panted heavily beside her, his tongue hanging out of  
his mouth, dripping saliva on the floor.  "It's feedin' time,  
and Woofie here hasn't eaten all day!"  She let go of Woofie's  
collar. 
        The dog trotted over to Trang, and immediately  
started licking the dogfood from her left breast. 
        "Gil!  You son of a bitch!  Get me out of this now!"   
She screamed and flailed at her handcuffs, but it was  
impossible for her to pull the rings out of the ground. 
        Helen cackled madly and shoved me outside the  
room, pulling the door closed shut behind us.  Trang  
continued to scream. 
        "Getting some heroic thoughts now, lover boy?"   
Helen said, pushing me back down the hallway.  "You really  
should save her you know, since you are so loyal."  She  
stabbed her finger at my chest.  "But there's a part of you that  
likes this.  A dark part of you that always succumb to." 
        We were back in the living room now.  Woofie and  
Trang were on the monitors. 
        Helen stood close to me.  The heels almost brought  
us eyelevel.  "You know what my greatest triumph is this  
weekend?  Beating the shit out of Trang is nothing.  It's  
getting you to abandon her and fucking me here as my dog  
rapes the hell out of her.  And it's all getting you so hot.   
Have you ever been this hot before?  I've never seen you so  
big."  She held my stand-up erection in her hand.  I could say  
nothing.  I could do nothing.  I was paralyzed by my total,  
out-of-control lust, and my sympathy for Trang's torture. 
        Helen then hooked her leg around mine and jerked  
it, causing me to fall slowly onto my back as she kept hold of  
me.  Woofie was eating the dogfood off of Trang's tummy  
now.  She had stopped screaming for help, but her body  
trembled.  My dick stood straight up like an arrow.  Helen  
impaled herself on it, juicy as a hamburger.  My guilt and fear  
slid away.  Nothing held me back now. 
        Helen fucked me like she had fucked Trang earlier.   
Whenever it looked like I might come, she paused, waited till  
I got smaller, then started again.  She looked at the monitor  
and said, "Oh, the best part is coming up!  Woofie is getting  
his treat--and now, so will you."  She slid off me and laid  
down on her flat stomach in front of the monitors.  "Put your  
pod up my brown eye, honey.  Knock my lights out!" 
        I sat up and looked at Helen's firm, toned buttocks  
with anticipation.  I pounced on her back and slipped my dick  
into her asshole.  Her head chucked up a bit as it first went it.   
I saw Woofie eating at the mound upon Trang's crotch.  He  
first ate the juicier chunks, the licked the remains.  Woofie  
just couldn't get enough of the food residue in and around  
Trang's cunt, and kept licking, licking, licking.  Trang  
started squealing again, her legs straining against the  
restraints.   
        I humped and humped against Helen's butt as we  
both watched it all happen.  We saw Trang start to pump her  
crotch up and down slightly against Woofie's tongue. 
        "Look at that.  See how badly she wants to come.  A  
bitch fucking a bitch!"  Helen laughed madly. 
        As we saw Trang start to yell and thrash as her  
orgasm took place, I exploded into Helen's anus.        It must  
have been the fuck of the decade, because I lost consciousness  
right afterward. 
 
I awoke on the floor of the living room, the monitors turned  
off.  I must have slept for a couple of hours at least.  My dick  
was raw as hell from all the fucking I had done.  I felt  
enormously exhausted and burned out from the adrenaline sex  
high that I had experienced in the past two days. 
        I stumbled to the room where Trang had been with  
Woofie.  No one was there.  Not even a scrap of dogfood lay  
on the carpet. 
        I walked to Helen's bedroom.  The door was closed.   
I opened it gently and saw Helen sleeping in her bed, alone. 
        I began to feel panicked now.  Where was Trang?   
Had Helen tortured her more?  Did Trang get so disgusted  
that she had left without me?  Reality had quickly slammed  
back into my head.  I really loved Trang.  I couldn't lose her,  
not over my disgusting fetishes. 
        I made my way to the guest bedroom off the kitchen.   
The bed was empty.  I looked through the window to the patio  
and yard outside.  Other than Woofie, nothing.  I heard a  
sound of water swooshing.  I looked into the bathroom.   
Trang was there, sleepy in warm soapy water. 
        She looked up at me sternly.  "Well, I always knew  
you'd come through for me when it really counted.  Was she  
that good?" 
        "I'm sorry...I couldn't help myself.  How are you  
feeling?" 
        "I feel much better now." 
        "What did she do to you after I passed out?" 
        "Afraid you missed something kinky and great?"   
Her expression was still grim.  "After you fucked her buns  
off, she came and un-cuffed me.  Then she was very nice to  
me.  It seems like without a perverted voyeur like you to  
perform for, she can be a pretty decent woman." 
        I gulped hard. 
        "Helen gave me a shower and soaped all that  
horrible dog saliva away.  We made out in the shower for a  
while, but I was so weak.  She made me something wonderful  
to eat.  I started to feel better and my energy level came back  
up.  Then we went back into the bedroom.  We had great sex.   
She gave me one hell of a pleasure fuck, without any kind of  
torture.  I had several orgasms.  Then I returned the favor to  
her with her favorite vibrator toy.  You think you know where  
we can get one of those?" 
        I saw Trang smile then, the smile that said a  
thousand words, that said she wasn't really mad at all.  It  
meant that I was forgiven, that the fighting and the pain had  
been worth it for her.  That she understood my helplessness as  
part of the sex play. 
        "Sure," I said to her. "Let's go home, honey." 
 
 
It wasn't a complete happy ending.  Trang had never had her  
butt kicked so completely before.  She could have lost her life  
in that room.  It took her a few weeks to completely heal the  
scratches and bruises that Helen had given her. 
        Trang ached to prove herself in combat again.  She  
took apart one of the ladies on her gardening crew when she  
teased Trang as not being so tough anymore.  Trang made her  
submit in less than a minute.  It wasn't that erotic or  
satisfying.  Neither were any of the women that Trang  
challenged after that. 
        Trang went back to Helen's house, realizing that she  
had to have a rematch, 6 weeks later, but we found a "FOR  
SALE: SOLD" sign out in front, and the house empty of her  
possessions.  I sensed a feeling of letdown in Trang then.   
Trang would not feel satisfied unless she challenged another  
woman as sexy, strong, smart, and vicious as Helen, and  
dominated her into complete submission.  It would take us  
months, and a trip out of Texas, to find another lady of that  
caliber. 
 
 
After she had fought Helen, we had only found one  
challenger for Trang, a new employee from the landscaping  
service.  She was a bimbo who had stupidly picked a fight  
with Trang and submitted to her in less than two minutes.   
She had no bisexual impulses whatsoever, so it was doubly  
disappointing.   
     In desperation, we sought out a wrestling academy in  
the Philippines.  Trang had undergone two weeks of training  
in wrestling, boxing, and kickboxing at the Catfighter's  
Palace.  A symbol of her graduation from this academy now  
appeared on her right butt-check:  a tattoo of a tigress,  
leaping at its prey, claws extended.  It meant that now she  
was forever a member of the secret Cat Cult, a secret society  
of women who fought to dominate each other sexually around  
the world.  It also meant that our Cat Scratch Fever had risen  
to a new level.  Having sex without the wrestling or fighting  
before hand seemed tame and commonplace.   
        Unfortunately, outside of an annual CatSport  
tournament head in Manila in the spring, we had no idea  
where to find other women wrestlers or fighters. 
        Coming back to Texas after the Philippines trip was  
a real let down.  Trang was a like an arrow, fully cocked and  
loaded inside of a bow, but with no target to be released after.   
A couple of months had passed, and she was extremely bored,  
restless, and bitchy. 
        "We have to do something, Gil.  We can't sit around  
here passively in the Bible Belt and expect to find another  
great female fighter!"  Trang said to me. 
        "Maybe we could take another trip to the  
Philippines, but the airfare is so expensive now..."  I said,  
remembering her incredible battle there with the Filipina  
called Tara. 
        "If it's the only way, Gil, you'll have to put it on  
your Visa card,"  Trang said.  "Please.  I'll help you pay it  
off." 
        "No--wait a minute.  I was watching the Women's  
Pro Beach Volleyball tournament yesterday--they showed this  
lady walking through downtown New Orleans, where they  
had a lady going into a women's wrestling bar.  What if we  
went there and talked the manager into letting you fight one  
of the ladies there?" 
        "What if it's sleazy?"  Trang asked.  "I am not going  
to wrestle in mud or in oil.  I want a real fighter." 
        Like Helen, I thought.  "OK, we'll just take a long  
weekend off and check it out over there.  If nothing else, we'll  
have a nice getaway.  If it doesn't seem challenging enough,  
we could still go back to the Philippines later if it doesn't  
work out." 
        "All right,"  Trang muttered, and walked away  
moodily.  I hoped to hell that this was going to work out, as I  
could tell she wouldn't be in the mood tonight.  But I had no  
idea about what disaster the Fever was going to cause. 
 
 
We started driving early the next day towards New Orleans.   
Trang slept for most of the ride and did not say much.  She  
was dressed in a white T-shirt with a picture of Mickey  
Mouse on it, and a pair of brown khaki shorts that showed off  
her awesome buttery legs. 
        We stopped at a small Quik-E type store just outside  
of Houma.  Trang walked ahead of me into the store.  As she  
did so, I noticed a man and a blond-haired woman, leaning  
against the hood of their truck, both eyeing Trang as she  
walked into the store.  The man, whose name I never did  
learn, but called him "Tex" anyway, for he wore a cowboy hat  
and boots, plaid shirt and jeans.  He woof-whistled as Trang  
went into the door, and I stared at him for a moment before  
going in myself. 
        "Just ignore it,"  Trang said to me. 
        "You're the fighter, not me."  I replied, as I paid for  
our drinks and walked outside. 
        "Well, look at this piece of trash that blew into  
town," the blond-haired lady drawled in a southern accent,  
looking up and down at Trang.  She looked to be about 30.   
Her hair came down just past her ears in a bowl type of  
haircut.  She wore cut off blue jeans, and legs were tanned,  
sexy and firm, but did not appear muscular.  A white shirt  
was tied at her breasts, bigger than Trang's but not enormous,  
exposed a washboard stomach.  She was sexy and feisty, and  
her slightly freckled face snarled a bit whenever she talked to  
Trang.  "Hope you aren't planning on stayin' here too long,  
honey." 
        Trang glared at the woman briefly. 
        "Ooo!  You challengin' me, dirt fox?"  the blond  
taunted. 
        "Hey, mister!"  Tex called over to me.  "I'll bet ya  
one-hunnerd dollars that Daisy here can take yer ladyfriend  
there in a fair fight." 
        "No way, pal..."  I started to reply, but Trang glared  
at me in the eye and cut me off. 
        "I can take her,"  Trang said calmly.  "Are you sure  
you've got $100 to lose?" 
        Daisy squealed and stood up from the truck, staring  
her blue eyes into Trang.  "You better be sure, honey.  I grew  
up wrestlin' pigs that weighed more than you do." 
        "Right here, honey bun,"  Tex drawled, waving  
around five $20 bills.  "Let's go around back, where we can  
have us a bit of privacy." 
        We let them lead the way around the back of the  
market into an empty dirt field.  I looked around it, suspicious  
of some kind of setup or trick, but there appeared to be none.   
The little dirt field was protected from the sight of the  
highway and some trees even obscured the back of window of  
the Quik-E mart. 
        Daisy skipped over to one side of the field, looking  
like a happy kid.  Trang handed me her water bottle.  I was  
worried, even though excited about seeing her fight again.   
Trang was taking this much too calmly. 
        "Watch out, darling,"  I whispered to her.  "Don't  
get too overconfident.  She may be tougher than she looks." 
        "Don't worry,"  Trang replied, kissing my cheek.   
"It'll be over soon.  Get ready to be $100 richer in a few  
minutes." 
        "Enough stallin'!"  Tex barked.  "Get ready to  
wrassle, ladies!" 
        I walked over next to Tex over at the edge of the  
field as Trang started to stretch a little. 
        "Before we begin, I wanna know if you got a  
hunnerd on you, city-boy."  Tex said.  I pulled out my money  
out of my wallet to show him.  "You're gonna see a good  
show now, bud." 
        "Come and get it, darlin'!"  Daisy said to Trang.   
She awaited Trang, standing with her hands on her hips at  
the far side of the field, a bold cat even though she appeared  
to be about an inch shorter than Trang, and certainly not as  
muscular.  Trang ran over to her and lunged for her arm, but  
Daisy dodged away.  Both women circled each other in their  
tennis shoes.  Daisy's eyes locked onto Trang's and she hissed  
at my beloved.  Suddenly her arms shot out and grabbed at  
Trang's long, straight black hair, yanking down hard.  Daisy  
brought her knee up quickly to smash into Trang's lower jaw.   
Daisy then brought her right leg above Trang's head and  
wrapped it around her neck, choking her, then driving her  
body to the ground. 
        Trang was now crouched on the ground in the choke  
hold, Daisy on one knee above her.  "You ain't so tough.   
Come on, why dontcha show me some of that kung-fooey  
shit?"  She grabbed Trang's right arm and bent it behind her  
back. 
        Trang's left hand was free, and she used to grab hold  
of Daisy's right breast, and squeezed hard with her claws  
through the white shirt.  Daisy squealed a bit and let go of  
Trang's arm to remove the claw at the breast.  Trang then  
used both free hands to grab hold firmly of Daisy's buns, and  
stood up, flipping Daisy behind her back into the air. 
        Daisy landed on her back.  Trang quickly fell down  
on top of Daisy hard, driving her butt into Daisy's stomach.   
Trang locked her left arm around Daisy's neck, and wrapped  
her right arm around Daisy's knees.  This was called an  
accordian move--because Trang locked her fingers together,  
pulling Daisy's head/shoulders towards her legs, which were  
locked down and immobilized by Trang's tremendous grip. 
        Daisy sputtered and strained in Trang's grip.  Her  
left arm was under Trang's legs pinned.  Only her right arm  
remained free, but all it could do was pull on Trang's hair,  
which wasn't enough to make my darling let go. 
        "Give it up and go back to your pigs!"  Trang said to  
her. 
        "Eat this...sugah..."  Daisy gasped, then opened up  
her jaws to take a tremendous bite out of Trang's left breast. 
        Trang's fingers let go of the accordian hold almost  
immediately as she wailed in pain.  Daisy used the freedom to  
grab hold of Trang's legs with her left arm, and threw them  
up in the air, driving Trang onto the dirt ground while  
maintaining her bite.  Trang pushed away at Daisy's chin  
with her hands, which ended the breast-biting.  But by now  
Daisy had stood up, gripping on Trang's ankles, and whipped  
her around on her stomach.  Daisy bent the ankles and calves  
backward towards Trang's head, executing a Boston Crab  
maneuver. 
        By this time I was fully aroused, my dick begging to  
be released from the layers of underwear and jeans that I was  
wearing.  As I watched Daisy grip my darling's legs, bending  
them and her spine backward, making my darling shout,  
"Aieee-yaaaahh!" in agony, I realized that Daisy was no mere  
pig fighter.  The maneuver she was using was a professional  
one. 
        "Your babe out there fight in the pros?"  I asked Tex. 
        "Yep, my sister fights down at a club in New  
Orleans,"  he drawled.  "Been doing it fer ten years now.   
Makes a good livin'.  What about yer gal?" 
        "She's been taught by pros, but only fights amateurs  
so far." 
        "Too bad.  She's a real spitfire!" 
        "Give it up, sugah!"  Daisy yelled at Trang, driving  
her right foot into Trang's genital area for a moment.  "Even  
your boyfriend's losing interest." 
        Trang slapped at the ground with her arms, her  
grimacing face determined to find a way of the crab hold. 
        But Daisy could tell that as painful as the crab hold  
was, it was not making Trang submit.  She changed position  
and pushed Trang's ankles down to her butt, keeping them  
locked down by sitting on top of Trang's legs and back.  She  
took hold of Trang's arms, pulling them backward, bending  
her spine like a bow. 
        "I'm gonna snap ya like a twig if ya don't give it up,  
honey,"  Daisy warned.  Her expression was one of  
determination, with a slight smile of triumph coming out of  
the corner of her mouth. 
        Trang sucked in her breath and made her break for  
freedom.  She reached backwards with her arms, even further  
than Daisy was pulling them.  Her hands found the bottom of  
Daisy's chest-high shirt, and gripped it tightly.  She shifted  
her body weight forward and pulled--the end result  
somersaulting Trang's body forward, and flipping Daisy off of  
her, and both Tex and I exclaimed when we heard a ripping  
sound. 
        Daisy landed on her ass, topless.  Trang had ripped  
the shirt off her back.  Daisy's breasts vibrated as her body  
absorbed the impact of the fall. 
        Trang allowed Daisy no room to recover.  She sat her  
knees upon Daisy's arms, pinning them to the ground.  Daisy  
brought her legs up and back to get Trang's neck.  Trang  
forestalled them with her arm instead, and used the tattered  
remains of Daisy's shirt to hogtie Daisy by the ankles. 
        "Isn't this what they do to pigs in roping contests,  
cowgirl?"  Trang taunted Daisy, while gasping and recovering  
her breath.  Daisy remained silent.  "No snappy comebacks  
now, Bimbo Daisy?  How about this?"  Trang drove her nails  
into Daisy's exposed breasts and laughed as Daisy screamed. 
        Trang lay down on her side and pulled Daisy by the  
hair, quickly forcing Daisy's neck high up in-between Trang's  
thighs.  Trang lay on her left arm and squeezed with her  
incredible leg power, putting Daisy in one hell of choke hold  
that looked impossible to break.  Daisy flailed her legs  
around, but since they were tied up, they were useless to her.   
Soon, Daisy's face was turning red was making grunting  
noises. 
        "Anytime you're ready to give up, shugah, just say  
the word,"  Trang teased her, and clawed at Daisy's tits with  
her right hand.  She was smiling now and looked up at me in  
anticipation of her victory. 
        But my darling had forgotten about Daisy's hands.   
The left one appeared to be almost useless, under Trang's  
butt.  But there was enough room for Daisy to reach up and  
grab the side of Trang's shorts.  Just enough to anchor it, just  
enough for the right arm to come in fast, latch onto the front  
of Trang's shorts, near the front button.  Daisy yanked hard,  
and the button popped right off and landed a few feet away.   
Daisy tugged very hard another three times.  Trang tried to  
stop her with her right hand, but it was too late.  On the  
second tug, Daisy had snapped the zipper open, and on the  
third tug, had ripped the shorts in half. 
        Trang's cunt was now exposed to Daisy--the result of  
not wearing panties that day!  Daisy opened her mouth and bit  
down into it hard.  It was the only thing that could stop  
Trang.  And it worked--Trang immediately released the  
choke hold, but Daisy kept biting.  Trang stabbed her fingers  
into Daisy's eyes to make her jaws release their grip. 
        My heart skipped a beat while my hard-on begged  
for release.  I had never seen Trang so injured before.  This  
was getting out of hand.  I thought that maybe I should stop  
this now before she got really hurt. 
        "Maybe this is goin' too far,"  Tex drawled, echoing  
my thoughts. 
        The two women had paused for a moment.  Trang  
had rolled away from Daisy, and was on her hands and knees,  
massaging her vagina.  Daisy was laying down and sucking in  
huge gasps of air, her breasts quaking with relief.  They  
rested for at least a minute. 
        "I guess it is a draw,"  I said.  "Let's go, Trang." 
        "No...fucking...way,"  Trang said, standing up  
shakily.  There was a look of intense hatred on her face. 
        "Tougher than I thought, darlin'..."  Daisy said, and  
got to her knees, then stood up.  "It's just gonna make my  
conquest a whole lot sweeter."   She unbuckled her shorts,  
stepped out of them and threw them over to Tex.  Daisy stood  
naked as a jaybird, her nipples stood out and erect, the  
expression on her face grim, shaking away the sweat.  "Let's  
finish this, darlin', before your boyfriend over thah proposes  
to me." 
        Trang removed her Mickey Mouse T-shirt and threw  
it over to me.  Now both wildcats were naked, except for their  
athletic shoes.  Daisy let out a yell and charged Trang with  
her arms outstretched.  The two fighters locked hands for a  
contest of strength and leverage, each trying to topple each  
other over.  I saw the muscles in Daisy's back and shoulders  
appear, a result of her long workouts.  Even though Trang  
was an inch taller than Daisy, the smaller woman held her  
own. 
        They pushed, tugged, and turned around, allowing  
Tex and I to view them both.  I saw beads of sweat drip down  
Trang's muscular back, down her lovely toned bun, and down  
to the dirt.  Trang stepped forward to gain some leverage, but  
her foot slid on a big rock, and she went down on one knee.   
Daisy pushed her advantage forward, causing Trang to arch  
backward.   
        "Got ya now, darlin'!"  Daisy exclaimed, as her  
supple breasts rubbed up against Trang's. 
        Trang's answer to this was to simply fall backwards.   
In doing so, she took Daisy by surprise, as the blond fell down  
upon my megababe's chest.  Trang then pushed up with her  
legs and knees against Daisy's body, while gripping her  
shoulders, to somersault Daisy's body backward.  Daisy  
landed hard on her ass, once again. 
        Trang somersaulted backward herself and sat on  
Daisy's stomach.  Trang pinned Daisy's arms under her  
knees.  She curled back her right fist and slammed it into  
Daisy's left tit, hard.  "Give up, bitch!"   
        Daisy moaned, but yelled, "Never, chink!" 
        Trang hurled a half dozen blows against both of  
Daisy's breasts.  "Don't ever call me that, pig-whore!" 
Daisy seemed done for.  Trang sat up a bit and  
twirled Daisy over onto her stomach like a rag doll.  She lay  
her bronzed skin down upon Daisy's ass and back, and curled  
her buttery legs around Daisy's, locking them under her  
control.  Trang's left arm took hold of Daisy's left wrist, and  
bent it behind her back.  With her right arm curled tightly  
around Daisy's neck in a choke hold, it seemed like the  
hayseed had no where to go.  Her face turned red again as she  
strained futilely against Trang. 
        We were deep in the Fever then.  I gazed at my  
lovely Asian femizon riding on top of the blond Southern  
hellcat, my penis yearning for my touch, or for a thrust inside  
either of their cunts or their ass.  I hoped that I could  
somehow talk Daisy into ditching Tex and coming back to a  
motel room with us.  How wild she could be in bed! 
        I snapped out of this fantasy when I heard Trang yell  
out.  Her head jolted to one side.  She released her grip on  
Daisy and clutched the side of her head.  In Daisy's right  
hand, which had been free, I saw that she gripped a large,  
jagged piece of rock.  In her desperation, she must have  
reached out into the dirt and found it.  She slammed it into  
Trang's head again.  The impact still hurt Trang even though  
she had her hand in between the rock and her skull. 
Daisy shifted her body weight and flipped Trang  
over.  Daisy let go of the rock and steadied her hands on the  
ground, now laying on top of Trang's stomach.  Daisy raised  
her pelvis into the air and slammed her bare butt into Trang's  
diaphragm, smashing the air out of her lungs. 
        Her face still red and enraged, Daisy sat up quickly,  
in between Trang's legs.  She brought her fist smashing hard  
into Trang's cunt, once, twice.  Trang yelled and tried to sit  
up, but Daisy hammered away at her four more times before  
Trang managed to place her hands over her vagina for  
protection. 
        I think Trang was close to crying, then.  Maybe she  
might have, had Daisy not stopped and took hold of her legs.   
Daisy curled Trang's legs backward, and moved to the side of  
Trang's body, bringing her left knee on top of Trang's left  
arm.  She used her right knee to exert pressure against  
Trang's windpipe.  Daisy's arm's were holding down Trang's  
legs, which started to flail as soon as she started to choke. 
        Trang's right hand shot up to claw at Daisy.  But the  
blond merely caught it with her right hand and kept it pressed  
against Trang's legs in the bear hold. 
        "Whatsa mattah...honey..."  Daisy said, panting for  
breath.  A dirty smile appeared as she taunted,  "This...ole  
polecat...got yer tongue?" 
        Drops of saliva sputtered of Trang's mouth as she  
tried to get of Daisy's death hold.  But it was useless. 
        "Tell ya what, sugah.  Since y'all seem to be  
incapable of talkin', you can signal your submission by  
holdin' up yer thumb.  Then me and yer man are gonna have  
use a little celebration party."  She yelled and whooped at me,  
winking her eye and grinning. 
        I couldn't help but be turned on.  I wanted Daisy so  
bad, I could have peeled off my clothes and done it right there  
with her in the dirt.  But another part of me was  
afraid...when I realized that Trang hated this bitch.  So much  
she might not submit. 
        Trang's middle fuck-you finger shot up in defiance. 
        "Now that ain't nice, honey!"  Daisy drove her knee  
harder into Trang's windpipe.  "Submit, ya stupid illegal  
cunt!  Before I break your neck." 
        Trang's middle finger stood erect again. 
        As I watched my darling's eyes glaze over and her  
face lose consciousness, Tex and I rushed toward to separate  
the two hellcats, praying that it wasn't too late. 
 
 
Two hours later I lay upon my back in a cheap double bed in  
a Motel 6, a hundred dollars poorer.  My penis standing hard  
and erect, as Daisy slid her cunt up and down it.  My fingers  
played with her nipples and reached behind to grab her ass.   
Her mouth made a perfect "O" as she hollered, "Oh...my,  
Jea-sus!"  as she came into her second orgasm of the evening. 
        She rode my cock until the orgasm fully played out,  
then slumped down against my chest.  "What does it take to  
make you come, darlin'?"  Daisy asked, panting hard, kissing  
me in between gasps of air. 
        "A little of this,"  I replied, squeezing her buns and  
inserting my thumb into her anus.  "Do you like it?" 
        "As long as I can just lay on my tummy and rest,  
then plug away darlin'!" 
        I stood up from the bed and walked around to the  
bathroom, almost colliding into the second bed where Trang  
lay, sleeping away with the help of a sedative that I gave her.   
Luckily, Tex and I separated the two in time, before the Fever  
had turned fatal.  I grabbed the jar of petroleum jelly and  
pounced back on top of Daisy.  Her beautiful back, ass, and  
legs, were just so sexy.  I rubbed my penis against the crack in  
her ass, just to get it even more excited.  Then I smeared  
some jelly onto both my penis and her anus, and breathed a  
sigh of utmost pleasure as I thrust my dick into her ass. 
        Daisy's head bobbed up a little as it went in.  "Jay- 
sus!  That's a mouthful I swallowed.  But keep on goin',  
honey!"  I continued to thrust, welcoming the pressure and  
the tight fit stimulating my dick.  I rubbed my hands over her  
back, grabbing her nipples.  I kissed and nipped at her  
shoulder and neck as I continued to thrust.  "I might have a  
better position fer ya..."  Daisy said, panting again, wriggling  
her hips and ass. 
        I came then.  My penis seemed to explode and send  
volts of electricity down Daisy's spine, as her head jerked up  
again, and her legs flailed.  "Oh my god...you're so good,"  I  
moaned after the ejaculation ended.  I rolled off her sweaty  
backside, and lay on my back next to her. 
        Too tired to talk or play, we drifted to sleep almost  
instantly.  My dreams seem to fade back to the past, to the  
Philippines,  to musty smoke-laced bars, where lovely brown  
skinned Filipinas danced on top of stages, their hips swaying  
at me like the winking of an eye... 
 
 
 
I had heard of the Catfighter's Palace in Manila thanks to  
sources on the Internet.  It was supposed to be a fabulous  
place that put on great women's wrestling and fighting  
shows, mostly comprised of Filipinas, some Chinese, a few  
Japanese, and an occasional white or black woman.  In  
addition to their shows, they had an academy, where they  
would train women in the arts of fighting.  For most poor  
Filipinas, they repaid this training to the academy by fighting  
in the Palace for a minimum of two years.  For those who  
lived outside the country and possessed money, a $300 fee (a  
fortune in that region) paid for the training. 
        We met the headmistress of the academy, Wichita, at  
the bar of the Palace.  She appeared to be in her late 30s, with  
long black hair, somewhat yellowed teeth, and a face that had  
seen many fights. "You got the money?"  she asked. 
        "Right here,"  I replied, and handed it over to her. 
        "Good,"  Wichita smiled.  "Trang will come with me  
now.  Two weeks, you come back, Trang is great catfighter.   
You no come in here until then.  Say good-bye to him."  She  
said to Trang, who looked somewhat apprehensive. 
        "There's no way I can see or talk to her until then?"   
I asked.  I already knew the rules, but hoped it wasn't  
enforced so rigidly. 
        "Is this for you or him?"  Wichita looked at Trang. 
        "It's for me!  I'd do it myself if I wasn't with him,"   
Trang said confidently. 
        "Good.  Because for next two weeks, you train.   
Train hard.  Morning, lift weight and run.  Afternoon, learn  
wrestling and boxing.  Evening, fight other girls.   No time  
for man.  No time to think about man.  Only time to think  
like a cat.  If not, other girls eat you like...mouse."  Wichita  
laughed riotously then. 
        "OK, OK,"  I said. 
        Trang kissed me on the mouth.  "Don't worry, baby.   
I'll make it."  She rubbed my crotch.  "And remember to use  
a condom if you get lonely." 
 
 
And it was hard not to get lonely or aroused in Manila.  I sat  
in bars, getting drunk and watching the beautiful Filipinas  
dance on stage.  Sometimes I would pick the one I liked the  
best, with nice thick legs that reminded me of a wrestler, and  
would take her to bed for $10.  But it seemed tame and boring  
after Trang and her fights. 
        One day, I did find a bar that was more interesting.   
As I watched the girls dance, there was one in particular that  
stood out for me.  She was Filipina, 5'6", same height as  
Trang, but very tall for most women of that country.  Her  
body was much bigger than Trang's:  arms, thighs, and calves  
were bulging and thick.  Although whether it was the result  
of working out or just her weight, I could not tell.  She looked  
like she could be a monster Filipina fighter.  Her face was  
stern, not as pretty as Trang was, and her curly dark hair feel  
down to her shoulders.  I found myself incredibly attracted to  
her. 
        Her name was Tara. 
        Then the dancing stopped, and all the girls cleared  
the stage, except for Tara and this other Filipina, who stood  
5'4".  The women kicked off their high heels, squared off on  
each side of the room, and started to circle each other.  As  
Tara circled around, I noticed a tattoo on her butt:  the mark  
of the Tigress.  She was a member of the Cat Cult. 
        The smaller woman gave Tara enough of a fight to  
make it interesting, but it ended ten minutes later with Tara  
sitting on the woman's chest and smashing her face to the  
floor just as she submitted. 
        I had been making eye contact with Tara all night.   
When the fight was over, she walked over to me in her bikini,  
and I bought her a drink.  I couldn't stop looking at her body,  
wondering what it would be like to have those thick legs  
around me in bed. 
        "You want to go upstairs?"  Tara asked me.       "I'll  
love you all night."  She rubbed against my leg with her  
hand. 
        I wound up taking her home and fucking the hell out  
of her.  That night, the next night, the night after that.  She  
would tell me stories of her battles, on the streets fighting  
other women for food, going to the Catfighter's Palace and  
becoming one of their top fighters, and now having paid back  
her debt, earning top dollar at the club I found her at. 
        I was so aroused and turned on with her.  She took  
my penis in her ass and loved it, too.  I shuddered to think  
what she might be able to do to Trang in the ring, and this  
made my orgasms even better. 
        We had spent five nights together.  I was due to go  
pick up Trang the next day, and we would be leaving soon. 
        "I am going to miss you," I said to Tara in bed. 
        "Don't leave me,"  Tara pleaded.  "Don't leave me,  
Gil.  I love you.  Want to go back to US with you.  Love me  
there." 
        "It's not that easy,"  I replied.  "I couldn't get you  
out of this country so easy.  There's lots of red tape from my  
government.  Plus, I don't think Trang would like it." 
        "Trang, Trang!"  Tara exclaimed angrily.  "Why you  
keep talking about her?  I am better than her.  Going to fight  
her tomorrow." 
        "What?  I thought she was getting out tomorrow." 
        "She get out.  But first, graduation ceremony  
includes a fight.  A fight with graduate, like me.  As soon as  
you told me about Trang, I asked Wichita to make sure I got  
her." 
        My penis stiffened as I thought about Tara riding  
Trang in bed, dominating her utterly.  As I felt this lust, I  
noticed that a change had happened within me.  I love Trang,  
and desired to see her wrestle, and occasionally, lose to a  
tougher women.  I no longer felt guilty about this as I used to.   
A part of Trang loved it, too. 
        I decided to make the situation more interesting.  "I  
tell you what, Tara,"  I said.  "If you beat Trang tomorrow,  
I'll take you back to the US." 
        "Maybe I don't just beat her,"  Tara replied, rolling  
over on top of me.  "Maybe I KILL her." 
        "No.  No Kill.  Kill, and you don't come to US." 
        "OK,"  Tara laughed, rubbing her vagina against my  
cock.  "No Kill.  Just crush.  Crush like mouse." 
 
 
"Crush!"  Tara shouted, slamming into Trang's body.  The  
crowd of men went wild.  Wichita sat at my table near the  
ring and laughed. 
        Trang was in the corner of the ring at the  
Catfighter's Palace.  Her nose was bloody, her tits had been  
punched, scratches reeked red scars over her legs.  Her bikini- 
clad body quivered under the impact of Tara's body.  I  
thought for sure she was defeated by the Filipina.  I had no  
intention of bringing Tara to the US, though, even if she did  
win. 
        But Trang eyes suddenly came alive.  She gripped  
Tara's shoulders and gave her a head-butt.  Tara's head  
whipped backward, and suddenly Trang rammed her knee  
into Tara's cunt a few times.  She reached down to grab hold  
of Tara's knees, and pulled upward, causing Tara to fall on  
her back, hard.  Trang stabbed the cunt again with her foot,  
then twirled Tara over onto her stomach.  Trang curled the  
lower feet back toward's Tara's butt and sat down hard on  
them.  Grabbing hold of Tara's curly jet black hair, she  
rammed Tara's head into the mat repeatedly.  I saw Tara's  
nose go all bloody. 
        The crowd roared even harder.  The rookie had just  
upset the champ! 
        Tara stopped the head blows by steadying her upper  
body with her arms.  Trang told hold of those arms by the  
wrists, and bent them both backward behind Tara's back.   
Tara moaned and wailed. 
        "Give up!"  Trang shouted.  Her face was dark and  
angry.  She had learned a lot in the past two weeks, but had  
also learned from Helen, using her maneuver from the fuck- 
fight room to turn the tables on Tara. 
        "No!"  Tara screamed, blood dripping into her teeth. 
        Trang reached her head around Tara's body and bit  
down on Tara's right breast.  Tara screamed even louder, and  
buckled her body violently, trying to shake off Trang.  But  
Trang rode her like a bronco rider.  The newly defined  
muscles in her legs and back kept her opponent pinned down,  
despite the fact that Tara still outweighed her by twenty  
pounds.  Trang kept riding and biting. 
        "Agghhhh...I give...give, give, give, give up!"  Tara  
shouted. 
        "And you submit to me tonight?"  Trang asked. 
        "Yes!  Aggghhh!" 
        Trang released her grip and slowly stood up as her  
opponent crumpled on the mat.  I couldn't believe what had  
happened.  And I was so excited about what was to come  
next. 
 
 
Trang emerged from the shower, examining the newly  
acquired tattoo on her bun briefly.  Then she came over to us  
on the bed, also newly showered and ready for her.  She  
flipped Tara over to her stomach and was about to play with  
her butt, when I could wait no longer.  I kissed Trang  
passionately on the lips. 
        "It's been too long...I've missed you."  I said,  
panting. 
        "Not too much,"  Trang replied, gripping my jaw.  "I  
heard from Wichita and you and Tara.  And your sneaky little  
deal." 
        "I was just trying to..."  I petered off. 
        "Forget it.  It gave me the fire I needed to burn this  
bitch good.  Now get me the strap-on dildo.  I've got to teach  
this bitch a lesson." 
        There begin the night of lovemaking that I still have  
dreams about.  Trang's buns pumping her dildo into Tara's,  
holding the Filipina's head in the air and alternatively kissing  
and biting her.  The two sets of beautiful buns with the  
Tigress tattoos.  Exploding inside of each of their anus',  
falling asleep only to be awakened by the two of them kissing  
and making love in a missionary position.  Regaining my  
energy after an early breakfast and fucking them again in  
their vaginas.  The cries of their orgasms sounding like a  
symphony in my ears. 
        Although Tara submitted dutifully in the  
lovemaking, when the sex was over, she was resentful and  
bitter. 
        Trang stepped out of the shower again around noon.   
We had packed and were ready to go to the airport.  Tara  
confronted Trang when her back was to her. 
        "Fight me now, Trang.  Fight naked.  I lose, stay  
here.  I win, I go back to US and be your maid." 
        "Are you crazy?  We can't take you back,"  Trang  
replied. 
        "You afraid of me, Trang?"  Tara grabbed hold of  
Trang's hair and clawed her butt.  "Maybe you afraid Gil  
loves me more than you.  He told me this week...I'm so much  
better than you in bed." 
        Trang's leg shot backward to hit Tara's cunt,  
although not very hard.  Trang's elbow smashed into Tara's  
face, reopening her nose bleed.  Trang turned to face Tara,  
and the two women started to grapple with each other. 
        "We don't have time for this!"  I shouted, and  
grabbed my arms around Tara's waist, pulling her back over  
to the bed.  "Let go, Trang!" 
        I pushed Tara onto the bed with a thud.  She started  
to get up immediately, and I jumped onto her back to keep her  
down. 
        "Let me go!  I smash Trang this time!"  Tara  
shouted and buckled, but luckily, I weighed much more than  
she did and kept her down. 
        "Honey,"  Trang said, tearing strips off a pillowcase.   
"I know how to handle her." 
        When we left the room, Tara's hands and legs were  
tied to the bedpost.  She had given up trying to struggle  
against them.  We left her naked, face down on the bed, her  
tigress tattoo flashing at whichever maid discovered her. 
        "Sorry, Tara,"  I said.  "It's been lots of fun.  I will  
miss you, but..." 
        "The better woman won,"  Trang finished.  She  
picked up Tara's head by the hair and kissed her on the lips. 
        "Trang, I will see you again.  Maybe US.  Maybe in  
CatSport.  But I will find you.  Fight you.  Fuck you.  Take  
your money.  Take your man.  Then I kill you!" 
        "Maybe, baby,"  Trang laughed, and whacked Tara  
hard on the buns. 
        We slept on most of the flight back to the US. 
 
 
Two months later, after the battle with Daisy in Houma, I  
slept next to the blond and dreamed of Tara.  I saw her nude  
body, standing on Trang's back.  Her right hand had a fistful  
of Trang's hair, pulling the head upwards.  The other hand  
had Trang's left ankle, pulling the leg in the air.  Tara's foot  
was on Trang's spine, and as she pulled, I could her Trang's  
spine popping over and over, with Trang screaming and  
begging her to stop... 
        Then I awoke in the real world, but the screaming  
didn't stop.  Daisy was riding on top of Trang, the dildo  
strapped to her waist, pumping into Trang's ass.  Trang's  
hands were to tied to the bedpost with rope.  All this would  
not make her scream.  What did was Daisy's claws raking  
Trang's back, sharp and deep, drawing blood. 
        I shot out of bed, grabbed Daisy's hair, and pulled  
her off of Trang.  "You can't do that, you bitch!  She didn't  
submit to you in battle.  There was no deal." 
        "Ain't any kind of deal ya need with them folk,"   
Daisy said, standing up.  "They are savages.  Never beat one  
before.  Do ya know how she got that tattoo?" 
        "I know.  You've seen it somewhere before?" 
        "Hell, the club I work at in New Orleans has this..."   
Daisy trailed off, looking at the clock.  "Shit.  I'm late."  She  
started putting on her shorts and tattered shirt. 
        "This club of yours...where can we find it?  What's  
it called?" 
        "It's called 'New Orleans Knockouts.'  On Bourbon  
Street.  Come and see me there, but ditch the cunt."  She  
pulled on her tennis shoes, leap out of the chair onto my body,  
wrapping her legs around me.  "I'll give ya a good ride,  
cowboy."  Daisy kissed me deeply for a while, then slid off  
and went out the door. 
        "Gil..."  Trang moaned.  I forgot about her!  I untied  
the ropes and fetched her some water.  "I was too cocky with  
her, Gil.  I underestimated her." 
        "She sounds like she's fought women from the Cat  
Cult before,"  I replied, smoothing some salve onto her back,  
and massaging her muscles as well.  "How could you have  
suspected that, in this little backwater town?" 
        "Tomorrow it's going to be different,"  Trang said  
with determination. 
        "Tomorrow?" 
        "We're going to that club.  We're going to find  
her...and I am going to fight her in front of everybody." 
        I gulped hard.  "Is one day enough for you to rest  
and recover?" 
        "Yes.  And the best therapy is..."  She slid on top  
of my body and started touching my penis. 
 
 
 
The blood sprayed off the red-head's nose into the crowd at  
the New Orleans' Knockout club.  It was indeed a legitimate  
club, with a regulation sized ring set down lower in the  
middle, the tables and chairs surrounding it a bit higher.   
Daisy was fighting a red-head named Wanda, who had just  
now taken a dive towards the canvas, in the first round.  The  
referee came over and counted to ten, then threw Daisy's arm  
up and announced, "Da Winnah!" 
        Daisy danced around the stage in her white bikini.   
The crowd booed her in return.  "This stinks," one guy  
muttered.  "Give her a real fighter!"  said another. 
        It was the perfect moment for us.  Trang stripped off  
her jacket, revealing a nice black athletic bra, combined with  
a pair of skin-tight black biker shorts.  She hopped up onto  
our table and pointed at Daisy.  "I challenge you to fight me  
with the gloves on,"  Trang yelled.  "Let's see if you can take  
out someone at your level, bitch!" 
        The manager/announcer by the stage started to say  
no, but the audience roared their approval for the match.   
"Beat that blonde's ass,"  one guy said. 
        "I beat you before!"  Daisy shouted.  "And I'll beat  
you again.  Come on, cunt!" 
        Trang leaped off the table and hopped over the ropes  
into the ring. 
        "Take off your shoes,"  the manager said to her.   
Daisy was fighting barefoot.  "Put these gloves and this  
mouth guard on, and we'll start the fight." 
        As I watched the manager help lace up Trang's  
gloves, I watched Daisy splash water all over her face.  She  
danced around her corner of the ring, jabbing at the air.  She  
noticed me watching her. 
        "I told you to ditch the bitch,"  Daisy said.  "Now  
she's gonna pay the price for coming here.  Hope your gonna  
be free tonight, after she's in the hospital.  I got some moves  
to show you." 
        "Back off, pig-whore!"  Trang shouted, and jumped  
to her feet. 
        "Wait, wait,"  the manager said.  "To your separate  
corners." 
        The bell rang and the women started dancing around  
on the balls of their feet.  Daisy moved in quickly, jabbing at  
Trang's chest and head, who dodged or blocked most of her  
blows.  I had been wondering how Trang was going to do in a  
boxing type of fight, considering that I had never witnessed  
her doing this back at the Catfighter's Palace in Manila.  But,  
it had been part of the training, and supposedly part of her  
workouts in the gym, which I hadn't been watching.  And in  
this ring, there were almost no rules.  A referee was there to  
split them apart if one went down, but we saw other matches  
where women throw off the gloves and just start to wrestle. 
        Daisy fired a rapid series of punches, one of which  
made it through Trang's guard and hit her left breast.  But  
Trang countered back quickly with a one-two punch  
combination to Daisy's head.  Daisy hugged Trang then in  
an effort to punch her kidneys, but the ref separated them  
quickly.  And then the bell rang for the first round. 
        Trang sat down on her stool while I held up the  
water bottle.  "What do you think?" 
        "I was just testing her out,"  Trang replied.  "Now  
we'll really see..." 
        The second round began with Daisy landing a solid  
right in Trang's stomach, with little effect for her washboard  
stomach.  A fury of blows from Trang rained upon Daisy's  
face and chest, at least four solid ones making contact.  I saw  
Daisy's nose start to bleed.  Daisy drove Trang into the net  
in an attempt to corner her and got in a few more good tit  
punches.  The anger exploded from Trang in a tremendous  
punch to Daisy's head, which knocked her down on to the  
canvas.  She stood up at the count of three, and then the  
second round was over. 
        "See, she's not so tough,"  Trang said to me as I  
toweled her off. 
        "Don't get cocky, Trang,"  I said.  "That's what  
made you lose last time.  A woman like that has a lot of  
tricks.  She might have been trained by a Cat Cult member.   
Watch out." 
        My words turned out to be prophetic as the third  
round started.  Daisy started out jabbing at Trang's mid- 
section, then suddenly shifted her weight and kicked upward  
with her left foot, slamming it into Trang's mouth and jaw.   
A kickboxing move!  While Trang was stunned, Daisy shot  
off a couple of hard blows to Trang's face.  I watched the  
blood spray out, and then Trang hit the mat. 
        The ref counted until 9 before Trang stood up.  Now  
her nose was bleeding, but she didn't look that shaky.  I think  
she used the time to gather her strategy. 
        Trang danced around Daisy, jabbing, then kicked  
her high on the chest.  Suddenly, the fight changed to a  
kickboxing match.  Daisy and Trang trading a series of fist  
punches coupled with kicks.  The crowd went crazy.  This  
took up the rest of the third round and all of the fourth.  At  
the end of the fourth, the two women started to tire, and  
grasped each other in a violent bear hug, went the bell rang. 
        "It's going to end now,"  Trang said, gasping for air  
as she rested.  I poured water over her face and body to wake  
her up.  Daisy's steely eyes never left Trang's for an instant  
from her corner. 
        "This is it!"  Daisy shouted after the fifth round  
began, and threw off her boxing gloves.  "Face me with your  
bare hands, chink!" 
        Trang threw off her gloves, and charged at the  
blonde.  The crowd was going nuts.  The referee didn't try to  
stop it.  It was beyond his control now. 
        Daisy dived into Trang's midsection and wrapped  
her arms around Trang's waist.  She lifted Trang off the  
ground and flipped her over on the mat, on her back.  Daisy  
dropped to the ground, bringing her elbow smashing into  
Trang's stomach.  Trang jumped up a bit at that move.  Then  
Trang grabbed a hold of Daisy's hair and pulled her forward.   
Her other hand gripped Daisy's waist and pushed, flipping  
Daisy over, to land hard on her back on the mat. 
        Trang quickly got to her knees, sitting on Daisy's  
right arm, and placed her knee upon Daisy's throat.   
Mimicking her exact finishing move two days ago, Trang  
ensnared Daisy's legs with her arms.  "Ha-ha-ha!"  Trang  
laughed at the blonde's ever-reddening face.  "Which  
polecat's got your tongue now?" 
        Daisy's right hand, though pinned under Trang's  
leg, had enough mobility to reach Trang's shorts.  Her hand  
slid inside, scratching, pinching, digging deeper to find a  
sensitive area.  It irritated Trang enough to make her lose  
focus for an instant, for Daisy's left claw to attack her in the  
face. 
        Trang fell backward, then rolled to her hands and  
knees.  Daisy got up, face red as a beet, and sat on Trang's  
back like she was a horse.  She encircled her legs around  
Trang's thighs, and started punching her repeatedly in the  
kidneys.  "I'm gonna ride you like a pig!"  Daisy wailed.  She  
took a fistful of Trang's hair and pulled it, to arch her back. 
        Trang groaned while the kidney punches kept  
coming.  The crowd was going crazy.  They didn't care who  
won, as long the fight kept escalating. 
        My darling Asian femizon managed to half stand up,  
then fall backward, using Daisy's body as a cushion.  She  
brought her elbow smashing backward into Daisy's left breast  
three times.  Daisy clawed at Trang's face and crossed her  
legs together, crushing her rib cage.  With great effort, Trang  
managed to shift to her side, but Daisy rolled with her.  Now  
Daisy rode on top of Trang again, squeezing her ribs,  
smothering her face against the mat. 
        "Won't be long now, honey,"  Daisy said, winking  
at me.  "Got a nice hotel?" 
        Just then the expression on her face turned from a  
smile to a grimace.  Trang was biting her left breast with  
intense pressure.  Daisy released her legs and somersaulted  
away from Trang. 
        Trang stood up quickly, with her face now flushed  
and red.  Daisy danced over to her.  Daisy's leg darted  
upward in a lightning kick aimed at Trang's head.  Trang  
caught the leg with her arm, and brought her other elbow  
smashing down hard into muscle in the thigh.  Daisy yelled.   
Trang released the leg and fired a series of blows against  
Daisy's head, driving her into a corner of the ring.   
Barehanded blows, all of which connected, but also bruising  
Trang's own hands. 
        The final blow whipped Daisy's head and body  
around.  Trang's foot jammed her body against the post.   
Trang moved in and paid back the blonde for her earlier  
kidney punches, yelling, "Give up!  Give up!  Give up!" 
        Daisy's groggy head swirled, but she yelled, "No!" 
        Finally, Trang grabbed her shoulders and whipped  
Daisy around, facing her again.  "GIVE..."  Trang shouted,  
raising her claws above her head.  She brought them down  
fast, scraping Daisy's breasts, tearing off her bikini top.   
"...UP!" 
        Daisy screamed, cried tears, and crumpled down to  
the mat on her butt.  "I give up...ya whipped mah  
hide...bitch..." 
        Trang kicked Daisy in the face.  "What is my correct  
title?" 
        "Mistress!  Ah mean, Mistress Trang..."  Daisy cried  
again. 
        The referee stepped back into the ring to declare  
Trang the winner.  The crowd was on the verge of rioting  
with pleasure.  The entire club was all caught up in the high- 
temperature Fever. 
 
 
After the fight, we were ushered backstage by some bouncers  
to the owner's office.  He gave us some drinks and towels,  
and offered us a seat.  He was introduced to us as Mr.  
Lustiricci. 
        "I was very impressed with the fight you just put  
on," Lustiricci said.  "I've got to wonder what made you pull  
a stunt like that, coming off the street." 
        "It was personal,"  Trang said.  "A grudge match to  
pay off a fight we had two days ago." 
        "Ah, that explains it,"  he said, laughing to his  
bouncers.  "Two bitches in heat, maybe?  Fighting over this  
guy?"  He accented the last, as if that was too hard to believe. 
        "Part of it,"  Trang said, smiling at me.  "And part of  
it for honor." 
        "Honor, hmm?  That's a concept I don't hear very  
much nowadays.  How would you like to defend your honor  
here on a full time basis?" 
        "Thank you very much, but we're just tourists  
passing through,"  I said to him. 
        "Tourists passing through?  And ruining one of my  
top drawer fighters on the way.  She might be out a while  
after the licking you gave her.  How am I supposed to make  
up the money?" 
        There was a bit of silence.  "Perhaps I can pay you  
back if you name a sum,"  I said, hoping it wasn't too much. 
        "You can't pay back in money this type of thing.  By  
all rights, I should be mad as hell at you.  Coming in off the  
street, could be from some rival club, seeking to tear up our  
women?" 
        "It wasn't like that--" 
        "I know it wasn't that way.  You're both way too  
na<ve.  And frankly, I was dying to see Daisy, that trashy  
mouthed small town pig-wrestler, get her ass whipped.   
Luckily, I also bet money on you, young lady, and you paid  
off handsomely."  Lustiricci laughed again.  "However, it's  
not enough to make up the loss of Daisy.  But you can pay me  
back...with only doing one fight."  He held up his index  
finger. 
        "What sort of fight?"  Trang asked, her curiosity  
aroused.  "And with who?" 
        "It's a caged fight.  Highly illegal, of course, but lots  
of money to made there.  Lots of foreign businessmen will be  
there, and they will love to see you fight with another woman.   
The rules are simple.  There are no rules.  We take you and  
the other lady fighter, and lock you inside this steel wire cage,  
which is about the size of a room.  You fight until one of you  
wins.  By winning, I mean that one of you submits, gives up,  
gets wounded..." 
        "Or killed,"  Trang finished. 
        "Yes, there is that chance,"  Lustiricci said.  "But the  
payoff is handsome.  Not only will I win big if you fight, for  
you will be a top draw, but if you win, you can make $20,000  
cash that very night.  Of course, if you lose, you get squat." 
        Trang squeezed my hand hard.  I knew she was  
excited.  This was exactly the sort of fight that we had hoped  
to find...one that was as intense as that one in a suburban  
woman's fuck-fight room back in Texas.  The thought of it  
was challenging to Trang, and sexually exciting to us both. 
        "I'll do it,"  Trang said.  "Give me three days to  
recover from this fight." 
        "Excellent," Lustiricci said, as we stood up to leave.   
His bodyguard passed the address of the fight to me. 
        "One more thing..."  I said, as started to walk away.   
"You never said, who is Trang supposed to fight?" 
        "Is it another Asian?"  Trang asked. 
        "Nah,"  Lustiricci replied.  "It's a white lady.  She's  
got about ten years on you, but she's been around.  Tough as  
nails.  Came here from Texas a few months ago.  Her name is  
Helen." 
        We left for our hotel, for room service, for fucking  
Trang's new blonde slave Daisy all night, and then finally,  
for rest.   
        The thought of Helen and Trang, fighting naked in a  
cage, kept the Fever running high for the next three days. 
 
 
 
The cage was located in a warehouse near the Mississippi  
river.  Inside, three dozen men of all nationalities and social  
classes stood in eager anticipation around the brightly lit  
cage.  It was a rectangular surface of a 60-foot by 40-foot  
area, surrounded by a chain link fence.  Blood stains of  
former fallen fighters spotted the floor and the metal posts of  
the cage corners.  The outside of the fence was kept darkened.   
It was quite smoky in the room, as many of the Chinese,  
Japanese, and European businessmen were smoking their  
cigarettes while waiting for the fight to start. 
        I had not seen Trang for the past two hours.  She  
wished to be alone during that time in order to center herself  
for the fight.  And not, I suspect, to let my anxiety or worry  
poison her conviction that she would win. 
        There had been a big change in her personality since  
we had left Texas.  Trang had snapped out of the depressed  
funk that she had been in, but her new state was not  
something that I would call happy.  There was a fulfillment  
that was growing on inside of her, knowing that she was  
accomplishing something worthy at last.  Winning the fights  
had ceased to be just the simple, fun, sexual thrill that had  
made up the early days of the Fever.  Or maybe it had always  
been about Trang's self-esteem and I just never noticed.  She  
had told me that she had felt like a failure most of her life.   
By failing to attend college, failing to make big money as  
other members of her family had, and failing at most sports  
she had tried out for in her school.  But this year, Trang had  
finally found something that she was great at: wrestling,  
fighting, and dominating.  To get better, she had to take risks.   
And this fight was the biggest risk of all. 
        Yesterday, a note was waiting for us at the hotel: 
 
TRANG, 
 
MY MISTRESS HAS PROMISED ME FREEDOM 
IF I RIP YOUR PRETTY LITTLE HEAD OFF IN 
COMBAT TOMORROW.  IF I DON'T KILL YOU, 
YOU'LL BECOME HER SLAVE, TOO.  BE SMART,  
AND LEAVE THIS CITY NOW. 
 
HELEN 
 
        I snapped out of my reverie when I heard one of the  
cage doors slammed shut.  The men were silenced as Helen  
stood near her entry way, hands on her hips, strutting to the  
corner of the room.  The wildfire in her brown-green eyes  
silenced every man who looked at her naked 5'4" body.  She  
appeared to have changed little since Texas, although I did  
note a tinge of gray in her curly black hair now.  What would  
these men have said if they knew a 39 year old woman had  
walked in to fight to her possible death?  Helen easily looked  
more like 30.  Her arms and shoulders were even more  
defined now, as it seemed like she had been working out  
harder since we last saw her.  Gone were the softer legs that  
she once had; now her butt was toned and her thighs rippled  
with muscles as she walked.  As I looked down to her feet, I  
saw the only article of clothing she wore:  red shoes with 1  
inch heels. 
        Then I heard the noise of the other door closing, and  
saw Helen's nipples become erect. 
        Trang had entered the room.  At two inches taller  
than Helen, her body was untypically Asian.  Her legs were  
thick and muscled.  Trang's shoulders were wide, her back  
rippled with muscles, her biceps were defined, and her  
stomach washboard tight.  I wouldn't categorize her as a  
weight-lifter in the Cory Everson league, but she was  
definitely way beyond the Jane Fonda-style aerobicized look.   
There was fire from her big brown eyes too.  Anger was her  
aura, through her long dark hair that went halfway down her  
back, down to her clenched fists. 
        Trang's piercing yell went through the room as she  
ran on her black-heeled shoes towards Helen in the corner.   
Helen crouched down and blocked Trang's first punch.  The two  
wildcats began trading a series of fist blows and slaps that got  
the men cheering and yelling.  Helen's right hand sliced into  
Trang's left forearm, and I immediately saw a streak of red  
appear.  Trang answered with a right punch to Helen's head,  
then followed that up with her left hand extended and  
appearing to whiz past Helen's face.  I thought Trang must  
have missed.  A little later, I saw blood oozing out of a cut  
above Helen's left eye. 
        Then I realized:  both women had filed their nails to  
be pointed, razor sharp weapons.  And after that I saw what  
the second weapon was:  the shoes.      Trang's leg shot upward  
and grazed Helen's cheek.  Another slice of red appeared.   
The heels of the shoes were also razor sharp weapons! 
        The blood must have heightened Helen's battle  
senses.  Trang fired a few punches and kicks at Helen, but she  
parried them all.  On Trang's third kick, Helen dodged, then  
caught Trang's right ankle in her left hand.  Helen gripped it  
with both hands and dug her nails into Trang's calf.  Helen  
walked forward and drove Trang back, hopping on her left  
foot, to the center of the room.  Helen smirked at Trang's  
predicament. 
        "Now I am going to say, hello, baby!"  Helen  
shouted, and slammed her right fist into Trang's cunt. 
        The men in the room groaned while Trang's grimace  
showed us her pain.  Helen shoved Trang's standing leg and  
my darling crashed to the floor, flat on her back. 
        Helen pounced on top of Trang with her nude body.   
Helen's hands gripped Trang's wrists and held them to the  
floor, while she pressed her torso and knees against Trang's  
lower body. 
        "I see you've learned some new moves,"  Helen  
sneered, looking down directly into Trang's eyes.  "Well,  
dear, so have I!" 
        Helen's jaw lunged downward, and bit down hard  
into Trang's nose.  I watched Helen's butt shake to hold the  
pressure against Trang, as her feet danced red trails along  
Trang's calves while the biting was going on.  Trang  
struggled to get out of the hold, yelling, "You fucking bitch!" 
        Trang's could press Helen's arms about a foot off the  
ground, but it wasn't enough to throw the older fighter off.   
Trang decided to bite back--at Helen's exposed throat.  Helen  
must have gotten worried about her jugular vein then and  
tried to back her face away from Trang.  The men erupted  
with a yell as Trang used the surprise to flip Helen over on  
her back, maintaining the bite. 
        Helen used her right knee to shove Trang over to the  
side.  Her right hand was now free and slashed at Trang's  
side near her torso, leaving red marks.  Trang rolled away  
and got to her feet. 
        She and Helen now circled each other, their heels  
clicking, their breaths heavy in anticipation.   The adrenaline  
was going through my veins too, pumping about a third of my  
blood supply into my engorged penis.  Oh, how I hoped that  
somehow Trang would win and that we would have Helen as  
a permanent houseguest!  While I feared the alternative of  
fucking Helen after she had defeated my beloved, I had no  
doubt that sex addict in me would not deny this if it came to  
pass. 
        Helen shot out her own brand of special low-kick, a  
move designed to sweep Trang off her feet, so to speak.  To  
evade it, Trang leapt up into the air, her thighs enveloping  
Helen's neck, clamping tightly down on it, and bringing  
herself and Helen crashing down on the floor.  Trang landed  
on her side, her arms absorbing the impact.  But Helen landed  
face first, on her chin.  The sudden fall seemed to take the  
wind out of her, as Helen's mouth opened in pain, but there  
was no sound. 
        Trang took hold of Helen's arms, crossed them in  
front of Helen's head, and swiftly changed position to kneel  
down upon them.  From our viewpoint behind the wire cage,  
we saw Helen's head peering out from under Trang's lovely  
set of buns, her shoulders pinned.  Trang's kneeled legs sat  
on Helen's arms.  Trang's knees hit the sides of Helen's  
torso.  And Helen's naked back and butt were exposed to  
Trang like food on a silver platter to a starving man. 
        "This is for Texas!"  Trang shouted, and dug her  
claws deep into Helen's butt, then pulled.  "Aiee-yaahhh!"   
Trang yelled, as she drug her claws along the buns upwards  
to her Helen's back, leaving wide red trails in their wake.   
Helen screamed curses in response.  Trang then stabbed her  
claws back into Helen's buns several times, Trang's cathartic  
wail of revenge erupting with each stab.  This was grand  
payback for Trang not being able to sit for a week after the  
fuck-fight room battle in Helen's Texas home. 
        Helen's deadly feet stabbed backward, aiming for  
Trang's head.  But Trang caught one foot, ripped off the shoe  
and threw it in the corner, then did the same to the other.    
Then she bent Helen's legs backward to perform a sitting crab  
maneuver. 
        "Submit, Helen!"  Trang yelled. 
        Helen grunted a negative response, shifting her head  
sideways, flat on the floor. 
        "Submit, or I'll break your fucking back!"  Trang  
yelled again. 
        With great effort, Helen moved her head to reach  
Trang's right calf.  She bit at the calf muscle with her teeth,  
exerting all the pressure she could on that tiny area.  By  
reflex, Trang moved her leg away.  Helen freed her arm  
enough to grab Trang's foot and pinch her nails into the ball  
of it.  The surprise made Trang release Helen's legs.  But  
Helen extended her legs further, ensnared Trang's neck, and  
threw my darling's body down to the floor. 
        Helen sat up to flex and extend more leg pressure  
upon Trang's neck.  Helen reached out with her claw at  
Trang's butt, and grazed it lightly.  Realizing that her lower  
body was in danger from Helen's hand's, Trang shifted her  
legs away on the floor away from her foe.  Helen attempted to  
drag her upper body towards them, but groaned when her  
bare, ragged, butt made contact with the hard floor.  Her head  
still locked inside Helen's legs, Trang twisted her torso  
around, and got her knees against the floor.   Shoving, Trang  
somersaulted forward, flipping her head out of the leg vice,  
landing on her feet and standing up. 
        Trang twirled to face Helen, who was already on her  
knees.  Trang's foot grazed Helen's right hip and bun.  Helen  
shrieked and stood up, punching Trang hard on her left  
breast. 
        The two amazonion warriors circled each other  
warily.  Trang's face was flushed from the choke hold, her  
arm had a tiny gash, and she favored her right foot a bit from  
Helen's claw.  The nose was a bit puffy.  She was sweating  
profusely, but otherwise seemed to be all right, gauging  
Helen's every move.  Helen, on the other hand, looked much  
worse:  her back was jagged pink, her buns red and raw, and  
the gash above her left eye slowly dripped blood downward.   
This, combined with her sweaty forehead, stung the left eye.   
Helen brought her hand up to brush away the blood/sweat for  
a brief moment.  Trang seized this opportunity to smash at  
Helen's face with her fist, hitting the left side where the cut  
was.  Blood flew off Helen's face and flew through the fence,  
landing on a few dark Armani suits in the male crowd.  We  
groaned doubly as Trang quickly followed up with a razor  
kick to Helen's shoulder, which caused her to fall hard on her  
back. 
        Trang hesitated for a moment, as if not to believe her  
own success, then leapt on her prey.  But Helen was ready for  
her, or maybe she just got lucky.  Trang's vagina fell hard  
into Helen's knee, and her mouth formed that silent,  
incredibly painful "O" shape.  Helen's hands seized Trang's  
hair by the roots, pulled, and rammed her face to the hard  
floor, once, twice, three times.  At that point, I did see  
Trang's nose go all bloody.  While Trang was dazed, Helen  
wrapped Trang's long black hair around her face, covering  
her eyes, nose, and mouth.  Ingeniously, Helen took Trang's  
left arm and wrapped it around my femizon's neck, pulling  
on the left wrist.  Helen was using Trang's own arm to choke  
her to death! 
        Helen's legs were wrapped around Trang's rib cage.   
I saw Helen's legs tremble as she exerted great pressure in an  
effort to crack Trang's ribs.  Helen's left hand was free to  
claw at Trang's back deeply.  Trang grabbed hold of Helen's  
wrist with her free hand to stop it.  Trang seemed all locked  
now inside of Helen's grip, blind, suffocating from the choke  
hold and the hair. 
        Helen grinned as her powerful short legs caused  
Trang to groan under the hair cover.  "Give it up, Trang!"   
Then I heard her hiss more softly, "Maybe total slavery is  
better than death." 
        A shiver ran up my spine then as I heard those  
words.  My cock stiffened even more as I watched Trang's  
buns helplessly quiver.  What part of my fantasy got so  
excited about sex, violence, and death?  But I couldn't feel  
guilty then.  All I could feel was horny and hope that Trang  
would pull out of it. 
        Then Trang started to use the part of her body that  
wasn't locked up:  her legs.  I watched the sweat glisten off  
her leg muscles as she pulled them into a crouch.  Slowly, she  
raised up one knee.  Helen panted and kept up the leg  
pressure.  The seconds seemed like minutes, but Trang raised  
her other leg and stood up, bringing Helen's body with her.   
Helen had to release the choke hold on Trang in order to grab  
her shoulder to prevent falling.  Her other claw also dug into  
Trang's shoulder for support.  Meanwhile, her legs were still  
wrapped around Trang's waist. 
        The hair fell away from Trang's eyes.  She saw the  
metal post in the corner directly behind Helen's back.   
Trang's arms lifted Helen up under her legs, the claws  
digging into Helen's buns once again. 
        "Aiieeeeeeeee--"  Trang yelled, running, carrying  
Helen, towards the post, "--yaaahhhhhhhhh!" 
        Helen's back slammed into the metal post with  
terrific impact.  I think she was expecting the fence, and not  
anything that hard.  The impact registered across her spine  
and neck.  Trang backed up two steps and rammed Helen into  
the post again.  Helen screamed bloody murder.  Trang  
readied for a third ram.  Helen's claws reached for her eyes.   
Trang released her claws from Helen's buns and grabbed  
Helen's wrists just as the nails started to pinch. 
        Helen's legs dropped to floor.  A look of utter fury  
came over her face, as she rammed her knee into Trang's  
cunt twice.  Trang let go of Helen's wrists.  Helen grabbed  
Trang's hair and pulled her head downward.  Helen's knee  
rammed into Trang's jaw very hard. 
        Trang fell backward on her butt.  Helen leapt for her,  
but Trang rolled over and Helen scraped her elbows and  
knees on the floor.  Trang started to sit up.  But Helen hit her  
in the middle of the back with a fist.  Helen grabbed a shoe  
off of Trang's left foot and raised the heel-end of it above her  
head. 
        "You fucking stupid bitch!"  Helen yelled.  "I told  
you not to come here!  Now I have to do--"  Helen rammed  
the razor-sharp heel into Trang's right bun.  "--this!" 
        Trang's screamed pierced through the room, cutting  
off all noise.  The heel piercing her butt sent adrenaline  
pumping through her heart and muscles.  I saw all the  
muscles in her back and butt tremble.  Trang arched back, her  
left arm hooked around Helen's neck, and dragged her older  
opponent down to the floor.  From my vantage point, to the  
side, I saw Helen grip Trang's neck in her right elbow.  Both  
women seemed ready to struggle on their knees to the death.   
        But Trang was faster.  Her right fist pummeled  
Helen's face mercilessly, five times in a row, Trang  
emanating a cat-like scream with each punch.  Trang's right  
claw sliced Helen's forehead again, giving her both a left and  
right cut above the eyes.  Helen's grip on Trang's neck faded,  
as Trang gripped Helen's hair and rammed her head down on  
the hard floor. 
        Helen slumped to the floor on her stomach.  Trang  
reared up on her knees, and reached behind to pull the heel  
out of her right bun.  She threw the shoe away with a  
disgusted look. 
        Allowing Helen no time to recover, Trang rolled to  
position her butt just behind Helen's feet.  She gripped  
Helen's legs by the ankles, and spread them.  Her right foot  
dug into Helen's right thigh to spread the legs wider,  
exposing Helen's cunt.  This was the foot that still had the  
lethal shoe on it.  The heel bit into Helen's skin and she  
groaned.  Trang rammed Helen's cunt with her other shoeless  
foot.  The first time, I saw Helen's chest jump upward in  
recoil. 
        "This is for payback from Texas,"  Trang said, her  
voice loud.  Her foot rammed Helen's cunt again two more  
times.  Helen tried to crawl away, but Trang pulled on her  
legs to keep her close, and reasserted her pinching right heel  
in the thigh.  I saw blood trickle from it. 
        "And this,"  Trang said, voice even louder, "is for  
today!"  Her foot slammed into Helen's vagina three more  
times.  Helen's whole body shook, and her face grimaced in  
pain. 
        "No more..."  Helen gasped, but Trang didn't hear  
it. 
        "And last but not least,"  Trang yelled, "THIS IS  
FOR THE OTHER BITCHES WHO MERCILESSLY  
RAMMED MY CUNT!"  Trang screamed that piercing  
sound that would make a rabbit freeze in its tracks.  A  
bloodcurdling rage came over her bent face, as she rammed  
Helen another half dozen times.  If there was ever any doubt  
whether or not my lover had the killer instinct necessary to  
win, this terminated it.  The Fever had reached its highest  
temperature ever for us. 
        Helen screamed and slapped at the floor with her  
fists.  Tears were streaming down her face. 
Trang seemed not to hear her.  She stopped kicking  
and the Fever seemed to cool a little.  "Now,"  Trang said,  
gasping for breath, "do you submit and acknowledge me as  
your mistress forever more, or do I have to use the other  
foot--with the heel?" 
        Helen sobbed tears of pain.  "Yessss!"  she cried.   
"You are my mistress!  My cat goddess!  Forever!  I forsake  
all others for you!" 
        "Oh,"  Trang replied, her face slightly furrowed,  
"good."  She lifted her heel out of Helen's thigh, slinging the  
foot over her head, throwing off the shoe.  "Good, slave."   
Helen brought her legs up to her chest and lay in a fetal  
position, crying. 
        The men outside the cage erupted in verbal  
communication.  Some with shouts, others with groans, as  
befitted those who won and lost with the heavy and intense  
betting on the match. 
        I almost felt like crying for joy myself, as I saw  
Trang get up from the floor.  She stood up and winked at me,   
smiling even though the blood dripped down her upper lip  
into her teeth.  I was amazed that she suffered so little  
damage in comparison to Helen.  Her back and calves were  
razed, her shoulder cut, her nose bleeding and face puffy, and  
her right bun punctured, but the rest of her was unbruised.   
Not so for Helen--almost every major area had been cut or  
bruised.   Hopefully, some of the secret salves that Trang's Cat  
Cult had given her would heal the cuts and scratches in a  
matter of days.  The serious bruises and any fractures would  
take weeks, of course. 
        The doors to the cage opened, and a pair of men  
came in to take Helen away.  "Not necessary,"  Trang said to  
them, holding up her hand.  "I take care of my own slaves."   
She kneeled down and scooped up Helen in her arms,  
carrying her through the doorway to the dressing room. 
        "Well, pal,"  a voice said from behind, slapping my  
shoulder, "I guess I won big again thanks to your lady there.   
And so have you."  It was Lustiricci.  He was grinning from  
ear to ear, with a big fat cigar in his right hand.  He handed  
me an envelope with the $20,000 in cash stuffed inside.   
"Man, those two went at it like it was more than money.  Did  
they know each other from Texas?" 
        "Yeah,"  I replied, "I guess you can say they had a  
run-in back there.  Trang was just starting out.  Helen sliced  
Trang up real good in her own sort of homemade cage.  But  
today she got even." 
        "Listen, pal," Lustiricci said, placing his hand on my  
shoulder again.  "You've made me some money, so I'm  
gonna give you some advice.  Get out of town real quick with  
Trang and Helen.  Way out of town." 
        "Why?"  I said.  "Someone gonna try and steal this  
money?" 
        Lustiricci laughed.  "No, pal, not here in this town,  
without getting in trouble from me.  No, you've gotta worry  
about Helen's mistress.  She's someone who doesn't give a  
fuck about anyone except herself.  When she hears that Helen  
belongs to Trang, she's gonna come a gunnin' for all of you. 
A big bruiser of a Filipina, that one is.  Bigger than your 
lady.  Made Helen submit in a third of the time that your gal 
took." 
        "Hey, no problem,"  I said, waving him off.  "Trang just 
beat Helen.  My catfighter in there will love a bigger challenge." 
        He pointed at my chest to emphasize a point.  "Hey, buddy, 
this Filipina's killed three women here in the past month.  Tell your 
gal not to fight her until she's fresh, capeesh?  She'll 
need to be at her very best to beat Tara." 
        My blood chilled at that moment, running out of my dick 
and into my starved brain.  Dizzy with the sensation, I calculated  
the fastest route to the closest airport. 
 
 
 
For the first three nights in our luxury condo in Cozumel, the  
sexual reunion I had envisioned with Trang and Helen had  
failed to materialize.  Helen was battered and sore from the  
caged catfight.  Trang was exhausted from 3 deadly fights in  
six days time.  They had little energy to snorkel, swim, or see  
much of the wonderful Mexican island that we landed on.   
Getting them on the plane with Helen's face bandaged was  
somewhat embarrassing.  We ended up by telling people that  
she had just lived through a major car accident. 
        Our three-room mini-palace, paid for in cash by  
Trang's super winning in New Orleans, allowed the two  
hellcats to lick the wounds separately in private bedrooms.  I  
slept in the third bedroom, alone, massaging my dick by  
playing back memories of Trang's past catfights. 
        On the fourth night, I had another one of those  
terror-filled Tara dreams.  The filipina had a dildo strapped  
onto her thick waist, and plunged it into Trang's ass as she  
lay upon my bed.  Tara stopped when Trang's butt was  
bleeding too severely, laughed, and crawled over to where I  
lay, stroking my cock which stood pointing twelve o'clock  
high.  She massaged it like so firmly, knowing just how I  
liked to be touched... 
        I awoke with a start, knowing that part of this was  
not a dream.  Someone was rubbing my erect dick!  The room  
was dark and calm, and I saw the figure of a woman kneeling  
over me in bed. 
        "Oh, did I wake you up?"  Helen said slyly. 
        "You did," I replied, stretching my legs and feeling  
more blood shoot to my dick, "but I've never had a better  
wake-up call." 
        She rubbed her arms and now-blunted nails over my  
chest.  I grabbed her arms and pulled her down on top of me,  
kissing her lips slowly.  I ran my hands over her nipples,  
around her back, and down to her ass.  I rolled her over on  
her back and played with her for minutes, making her horny.   
Helen guided my penis down to kiss her cunt, her juices  
covering the tip, then the head, and later the entire shaft.  She  
moaned as I got into the rhythm of it.  I kept at it, and she  
kept moaning, until I felt like she was close to coming. 
        Then a hand gripped my shoulder, pulling me out of  
Helen, and tossing me to the side of the bed near Helen. 
        "Cunt!"  Trang yelled, slapping Helen hard on her  
tit.  "You don't fuck anyone unless I say you can, bitch.  You  
belong to me now.  Or do I have to remind you?"  Naked, my  
dominating darling kneeled over Helen, fist and arm curled  
back to deliver a mighty blow. 
        "N-no, mistress,"  Helen whimpered, covering her  
crotch with her hands. 
        Slowly, Trang uncurled her fingers and relaxed.   
"Don't worry, slave.  I've got a better punishment for this  
breach of protocol.  But next time, it won't be so easy." 
        Trang took out a pair of handcuffs from my travel  
bag, and used them to lock Helen's hands against the bedpost.   
Carrying a huge dildo in her hand, she climbed up on the bed,  
where I watched her with my enormous hard-on. 
        "You were enjoying that, weren't you, Gil?"  Trang  
smiled at me, laying the dildo down near Helen's side. 
        "I've got something that you'll enjoy better," I said,  
this time flipping her on her back, her head resting on top of  
Helen's chest, her torso laying in-between Helen's legs.  We  
started kissing each other like our mouths were the only  
source of water in the world.  My hands massaged Trang's  
breasts and butt, and she wrapped her legs around me.  My  
bottom of my dick rubbed up against the surface of her  
vagina, and she wriggled her hips around as she became more  
turned on. 
        "Isn't this the best, Gil,"  Trang said, panting.  "Isn't  
this worth it?  Lying to your manager back in Austin for an  
extra two weeks off?  To be here in bed with two amazons..." 
        "And fucking the best one,"  I replied, thrusting into  
her vagina as she gripped the bedsheet with her feet.   
"Fucking the femizon who dominates all.  You're the best.   
Ahhhh!  I love you." 
        "I love you, too.  And my slave."  Trang reached  
back with her hands and massaged Helen's breasts.  We  
continued on in this way for a while, me fucking Trang,  
Trang touching Helen's g-spots. 
        "Let me get on top of you,"  Trang said, panting for  
breath. 
        "OK."  I laid down on my back. 
        Trang sat up, turned around, and laid on top of  
Helen's body first.  They kissed each other excitedly.  Trang  
ran her fingers down Helen's body, to her moist cunt, and  
probed. 
        "You're so wet, my aging kitty.  Do want me to  
finger you to heaven?" 
        "Oh yes,"  Helen moaned.  "Please, Mistress  
Trang..." 
        "It can't happen now.  You were bad.  You tried to  
fuck Gil before I said it was OK." 
        "I'm sorry...please, forgive me, mistress." 
        "No.  I'm going to get laid first.  But this might just  
fit you..."  Trang reached over and grabbed the enormous  
dildo, shoving it up, slowly, inch by inch, into Helen's cunt. 
        Helen moaned louder and spread her legs just to  
accommodate it.  "Let me come, please..." 
        I was even more excited watching them together.  I  
didn't know how much longer I could stave off my own  
orgasm.  I pulled Trang's arm and she crawled over. 
        "You enjoy all this so much,"  my lovely athletic  
Asian said, guiding the tip of my penis into her cunt. 
        "And so do you." 
        "I'm so horny,"  Trang whispered.  As she slid up  
and down on my dick, she touched Helen's breast with her  
right hand.  Occasionally, she pumped the dildo in Helen's  
cunt, just to keep her in that tortuous state of near-orgasm. 
        I hated to see her multi-tasking.  I wanted her to  
focus on me!  Frustrated, angry, I sat up, and scooted forward  
on the bed, while my penis remained inside of her vagina. 
        "Gil!  What are you--aiee-yaah!" 
        Supporting her back and torso with my arms, I stood  
up.  Her legs encircled my waist as I carried her to the wall.  I  
placed her back against the wall, and pumped her vagina up  
and down against my cock. 
        "Get this through your head!"  I said firmly.  "I am  
not another one of your playthings.  I am not your slave!"  I  
kissed her breasts passionately. 
        I felt her hands press the back of my hand firmly to  
her chest.  She said nothing, but moaned with pleasure.  I felt  
like she had let go for a moment.  But I couldn't keep up a  
standing-fuck like that much longer. 
        I walked back over to the bed and released her body  
on top of it.  "Behind,"  I whispered. 
        Trang turned around, laying her chest on Helen's  
stomach.  Trang's beautifully toned ass, cunt, muscular thighs  
and calves, were now aimed at me.  My favorite part.  She  
guided me in again, and the rear entrance was a slick as the  
front.  She loved this position even better, and I got more  
excited, watching her rear, seeing her kiss Helen's tits,  
grabbing Helen's legs for something to pull on.  When Trang  
started rocking her hips back and forth, then I finally  
exploded with enormous relief into her cunt.  The movement  
excited her, and I kept thrusting till she came soon after,  
biting Helen's tit when she came. 
        Normally, all of us could have fucked each other  
several times all night.  But still in this recovery period,  
Trang was exhausted.  After laying drowsily against my side,  
she reached over and un-cuffed Helen. 
        "You can have him now, if you can make him get it  
up,"  Trang said to Helen.  "When you're done, I want you  
both to come and sleep in my bed,"  she commanded, walking  
out of my room. 
        Helen leapt on top of me, pinning me against the bed  
the way she had Trang at one point the previous night.  I  
didn't think I my penis could move again that quickly...but  
after Helen offered up a little ass-fucking, I was pleasantly  
surprised.   
And deliriously happy.  The hellcats had morphed  
back into playful sex kittens. 
 
 
We all slumbered until noon the next day.  Trang commanded  
her slave to rise first, showering and then making breakfast  
for us in the kitchenette.  Feeling like we had earned it, we  
ate eggs, bacon, coffee, toast with jelly, in order to re-energize  
ourselves and actually go out to the beach that afternoon. 
        After we had eaten, I finally got around to asking  
Helen, "What happened to you after Texas?  And why did you  
leave so suddenly?" 
        "Well, honey,"  she said, sighing and taking a sip of  
coffee.  "That isn't an easy answer.  I'd pretty much have to  
tell you the story of my life to answer that." 
        "We've got time,"  Trang told her softly.  "I want to  
hear the story of your life.  And how you got the Cat Scratch  
Fever." 
        Helen laughed at our name for this sexual addiction.   
She smiled, and I noted that she looked lovely now that the  
bandages had come off her face.  Light scars remained, but  
they would fade in another week or so.  "How I got the Fever,  
my Mistress?  Oh, that started back in Nevada..." 
        As she began to tell us her story, I made her wait a  
minute.  Bringing out a portable video recorder I bought at a  
tourist shop (just to be ready in case Trang fought a Mexican  
senorita on the beach), I set it on the table and pointed it at  
Helen to record her story.  The following is a transcript of her  
own words. 
 
 
I grew up on a small cattle ranch my family owned back in  
Nevada.  The kind that was dying then, but my Dad was too  
proud to sell to the one of the big companies.  He loved it  
more than any of his kids, so much that he let the ranch die  
little by little, over the course of our childhood.  He had been  
married before, and I had a half-brother named Buck, about 7  
years my senior.  Buck was gorgeous.  Shouldn't any man be  
if he had that name?  And he was my reason for my first  
serious fight. 
        I'd always been a tomboy.  Never afraid of shoving  
around other boys or girls at school during the recess.  My  
Mom died when I was young.  About the fourth or fifth grade.   
I didn't cry about it.  Instead, I found the school bully, big  
Tommy Wilkins.  Not big because he was strong, just taller  
and fatter and meaner than the other kids.  I picked a fight  
with him one day after school, just to release my rage over  
losing Mom.  He bloodied my nose, but I didn't mind, since I  
had knocked out one of his teeth, blackened his eye, and  
made his eat the dirt and submit to me in front of all the other  
kids before I let him go.  Tommy went from being the  
schoolyard bully to the school nerd overnight. 
        I remember I came into puberty about that time or  
shortly thereafter.  I'd touch myself at night and think about  
that fight sometimes.  I'd think about Buck, and his broad  
shoulders and lean legs coming naked out of the bathroom, a  
thin towel draped around his waist.  I'd think about those  
bimbos that he dated, with their big breasts and  
condescending looks toward me.  I'd stroke myself and think  
about slapping one of them around, provoking them into a  
wrassle fight, stripping her shirt off and pinching her titties  
so hard she submitted just like Tommy did.  All in front of  
Buck. 
        I had had sex by the time I was 18.  One of the hired  
hands at the ranch poked me a few times in the barn, but I  
really didn't see what the fuss was all about.  I didn't even  
have an orgasm, they were so bad at it, even when I closed  
my eyes and pictured Buck, it didn't help. 
        But my life really changed when Judy came to work  
at the ranch.  Judy was 24, a blond about my size with big tits  
and a firm butt.  She was almost as much of a tomboy as me.   
My Dad was so desperate for labor around the ranch, that he  
had to hire a woman.  She arrived one morning with her  
titties bursting out of a red-checkered shirt, all tied up at the  
waist, to expose her flat, tanned belly.  Her goldilocks were  
tied at the back in a pony-tail, and her teeth so white when  
she smiled, she could have sold toothpaste or lipstick on TV.   
Of course, Buck flew out the door to show her to the barracks,  
and around the ranch on horseback, ooglin' her bare legs in  
the cutoff jeans all the while. 
        I hated the bitch the minute she arrived.  It was Judy  
this, Judy that, every time Buck opened his mouth.  It was all  
the worse when I had to work with her and she started  
ordering me around, like she knew the ranch better than I  
did.  I just knew Buck was fucking her at night after Dad had  
gone to sleep.  I would fantasize about at night, about how  
great it would be to claw Judy's breasts off.  The more vicious  
my fantasies became, the better my orgasm was.  I definitely  
had that Cat Scratch Fever, by then. 
        One late afternoon I had finished work outside, and  
came into the barn to put my things away.  It was late fall, but  
I still wore cut-off jeans to keep cool, and a short sleeved  
shirt.  I was tanned then, and pretty toned due to all the hard  
work.  Dad and Buck had driven off to Carson City on a  
business trip, and wouldn't be back until late that night.  Judy  
came into the barn shortly after me, wearing about the same  
outfit she wore the day I first saw her.  She must have found  
Dad's 22 caliber rifle hanging on the door, because when I  
turned around, Judy had it aimed right at my skull. 
        "Bang!  Helen, you're dead."  She laughed.  "Don't  
worry, squirt.  The safety's on." 
        But I didn't think aiming a rifle at anyone was  
funny.  "Point that rifle away,"  I told her, "or I am going to  
shove down your throat." 
        Judy kept laughing and aiming the rifle at me.   
"Bang!  Got a coke bottle to put between your legs.  Betcha  
ten dollars I can shoot it off without hurtin' ya!" 
        "That does it!"  I started running for her. 
        Judy knew what was gonna happen then. She slung  
the rifle into the hay.  I hauled off with a right punch that hit  
her square in the jaw and knocked her off her feet.  She  
looked at me with that sly grin of hers I hated so much.  
        "Well, sugar britches," Judy said, wiping the edge of  
her mouth with the back of her hand, as she stood up to face  
me.  "That was real purty.  Now I am gonna say hello." 
        Her fists lashed at me.  I tried to block her right, and  
didn't see her left coming at me.  It was like being kicked in  
the head by a mule.  The next thing I knew, I was on the floor  
looking up at her. 
        "Well, is our little lesson for today over?"  Judy  
asked, standing all cocky with her hands on her hips. 
        "No fucking way!"  I yelled.  I grabbed hold of her  
ankles and watched her butt slam down on the dirt floor.  I  
went to get on top of her, but she lifted up one of those legs of  
hers, and caught my chest in a tight vice.  I hit her once in the  
gut, but she caught my wrist and forced my arm down.  I  
couldn't believe it.  She was stronger than me! 
        "Give it up, cowgirl,"  Judy taunted me.  "I've  
trapped ya." 
         In desperation, I pulled her shoe off her foot with  
my free hand and started tickling.  It made her squirm,  
release her leg vise and roll away. 
        We were both on our feet at the same time.  We  
circled each other warily, watching each other's hands,  
instinctively dancing around each other, ready to wrestle now.   
The excitement pumped the blood and adrenaline through my  
veins.  I had truly never felt so alive. 
        "What would Buck say if he could see you now?"  I  
rasped at Judy.  My hate for her was stronger than ever. 
        "He'd lust after me more than ever darlin'.  And he  
might even want a poke at you, cow bell!" 
        I lunged after her and our wrists locked.  We pushed  
at each other in a show of pure strength, grunting and  
sweating there in the dusty barn.  After about a minute, my  
arms started wobbling.  Judy laughed and pulled my body  
with a jerk, throwing me off balance.  She fell backward,  
putting her foot against my chest, and threw me over her  
head.  I landed on the floor with a thud that shook my  
tailbone. 
        Enraged at what I thought was my luck, I reached to  
claw at Judy's back as she was sitting up.  My fingers caught  
the collar of her shirt, and I pulled her over to me.  I grabbed  
hold of her hair and forced her to stand up. 
        "Now, Miss Sweet Judy Blue Eyes, you're gonna see  
some stars."  I intended to shove her head against the post  
nearby. 
        She caught my hand and pulled it down with both  
arms, right where she could bite down hard on it.  I clawed  
her eyes and pulled it away.  Judy ran forward, but I still had  
her collar in my other hand.  I tugged and she just slipped out  
of it.  Must have undone the knot in front while I was dazed. 
        Judy twirled to face me, her big tanned breasts  
heaving with laughter.  "Buck's right.  You're stupid, but  
kinda cute." 
        I lunged after her again, determined to squeeze those  
titties off her chest.  I got lucky while her head was down  
avoiding my fist, I leapt on top of her, wrapping my arms  
around her back.  Her waist was bent over her legs, pumping  
and shoving at me on top.  But I forced her down, my arms  
squeezing her chest against her back.  I felt closer to my goal  
as her nipples brushed my skin.  I pulled with all my strength  
and lifted her legs off the ground.  I hoped to drop her on her  
head.  But Judy locked her legs around my throat and  
squeezed.  Hanging off me, upside down, Judy's hands undid  
my the buckle on my shorts and slid them and my panties  
down, around my ankles. 
        I took hold of Judy's arms and got ready to slam her  
into that post again.  But as I took a step forward, my legs  
caught on the jeans, and I fell down.  I hit my head, falling  
down on my face.  Judy seized the opportunity and bent both  
my arms behind my back.  With my arms and legs  
immobilized, I was tied up like a... 
        "Cow."  Judy sneered.  "Say uncle." 
        I spat on the floor and squirmed around, looking for  
a way out. 
        Judy's finishing move was simple and beautiful.  She  
stuck her hand up my ass. 
        I screamed and buckled my body.  It was unlike any  
sensation I felt before.  Strange that I came to love it later.  "I  
give!  I give!" 
        "You'll do anything I say?"  Judy asked. 
        "Yes!  Yes! Take the fucking hand out!" 
        I felt such relief as she did, and as my arms fell to  
the floor, blood slowly returning to them.  I closed my eyes  
and didn't pay attention to Judy unbuttoning my front shirt.   
She pulled at it from behind, and my arms extended for her to  
lift it off. 
        "What are you doing...cunt..." 
        Judy twirled me over then and slapped me hard on  
the face.  "Be a nice little kitten now, sugar." 
        Which is what I was, back then.  A young kitten  
playing with a mature cat. 
        Judy took my arms and dragged my body near the  
post, in the middle of the barn.  She took some rope, tied my  
hands together, and anchored me to the wooden beam.  She  
walked around to face me, and pulled the jeans and panties  
off my ankles.  I now laid before her, totally nude.  She  
looked down at me, licking her lips delightedly. 
        I'm not the sort of person that gets scared easy.  I  
was then.  I had no idea what Judy planned for me.  I had  
thought she might take her belt and whip my hide. 
        Instead, she took off her shorts, and laid her nude  
body over mind.  She ran her fingers over my body.  Her  
breasts rubbed against my erect nipples. 
        "You...like girls?"  I asked her, feeling the  
goosebumps crop up along my back. 
        "I do,"  Judy said, smiling and leaning her face close  
to mine.  "And so do you."  Her fingers probed my vagina to  
find it wet as a whistle.  She kissed me then, a mixture of  
blood, sweat, and saliva.  It was so rich, so tasty.  She backed  
away and looked in my eyes to see how much I enjoyed it. 
        Then we really went to town.  She fucked me real  
good there, probably one of the best fucks of my life, there on  
that dusty barn floor.  It was certainly my first orgasm with  
another person.  I yelled so loud, the cows probably tried to  
run away! 
        Judy untied me then and showed me how to pleasure  
her.  I finally got to hold those big breasts but forgot  
completely about twisting them off. 
        Life was never the same after that.  I came to realize  
that when I felt intense hatred for a woman, it was a sexual  
passion.  But I couldn't just go into a lizzie bar for a pick-up,  
you know?  Not with my quasi-puritanical upbringing.  It just  
felt better if I got it by getting beaten in a fight, or better yet,  
by dominating the other bitch to submission.  It's the true  
trademark of all Cat personalities.  Maybe we're just born  
that way. 
Anyway, most of the gals I liked didn't walk into liz  
joints.  I liked gals who were pretty and athletic, not thin and  
weak.  The sexier the gal was, the harder I hard to fight.   
<<Helen turns to her mistress and smiles:  You  
know what I mean, Trang!  Yeah, we're two of a kind.  From  
the same litter.>> 
After that first time with Judy, I got to fearing that I  
was a total 100% lesbian.  My best and most exciting sexual  
experience was with her.  Yet I did lust after Buck.  I was  
pretty confused. 
Finding out that Judy was bi helped a lot, after she  
told me what it was like to fuck Buck.  She liked both men  
and women, and thought fucking between the sexes was a  
matter of apples and oranges.  We kept our affair secret at the  
ranch.  Judy and I would wrestle each other when the men  
were gone, even if they were just gone for an hour.  I lost to  
Judy every time.  Although each time I lost, I learned a new  
move or trick that I would collect in my brain for next time.   
I'd use it on Judy and she'd counter with another new one.   
My desire to dominate her grew with each failed attempt.   
She taught me moves in bed, too, using dildos and other  
kinky gadgets on me on the rare occasions that we could fuck  
in my bed. 
<<Helen rubs Trang's inner thigh:  Making you  
horny, Mistress?  Or maybe you had a similar experience  
starting out.  Yes, I sense that you did.>> 
Judy forever taunted and teased me about Buck.  He  
knew of my desire for him.  And thought me kind of sexy, but  
didn't was afraid of incest, despite the fact that we were only  
half-related.  
        After a couple of months of wrestling, Judy came up  
to me out in the field, and said, "Buck knows about us." 
        A chill went down my spine.  I thought of my father  
finding out.  He would hit the roof.  "How?" 
        "I told him."  She smiled. 
        "Bitch!  Why did you do that?"  I was ready for  
another fight. 
        "Because I know Buck, slut!  The other night we  
were at the drive-in, watching this James Bond movie.  These  
two gypsy women come out and start fighting, clawing at  
each other, out for blood.  Not like the real thing, but a pretty  
good take at it, for a movie, you know?  Anyway, I've got my  
hand under Buck's pants.  His dong got real big in a hurry  
while he watched it.  I told him I had wrassled some women,  
and he wanted to know all about it.  I told him about our first  
time in the barn, and his whacker got so big.  He gave me a  
good one.  Woof!" 
        "He ain't gonna tell, then." 
        "Stupid cunt!  He wants to watch us wrestle  
tonight!" 
        "What?"  I was taken aback.  My fantasies consisted  
of Buck watching me fight, but the reality of the situation was  
different.  I worried and hesitated to say yes. 
        "Cat's out of the bag, sugar."  Judy ran her fingers  
down my arm.  "You just might get lucky with that brother of  
yours, to boot." 
        I wanted to punch her lights out right then and there,  
for knowing me so well.  But I waited. 
 
       I met them that night out in the woods, in a clearing.   
"Hello, Buck,"  I said, like I never met him before in my life. 
        "Hey, baby sister."  How I hated it when he called  
me that.  But he smiled and said, "Judy tells me she's gonna  
take you out in 1 minute flat." 
        "Sure as shit, sugar,"  Judy said, stripping off her  
shirt and jeans.  She wore white lace panties and bra.  "And  
afterward, your sister's gonna lick my little cunt, like a kitten  
lappin' up a plate of milk." 
        "Oh, Buck, it sure ain't gonna be a minute,"  I  
replied.  "And it's gonna be her throat that says 'uncle'!" 
        You could have heard Buck gulp a mile away. 
        I stood in my black bra and panties, ready for Judy.   
My priorities changed in a heartbeat.  I was suddenly not  
afraid of what Buck would think.  I was afraid, anxious of not  
winning Buck, and hating Judy for wanting to tear me down  
in front of him.  "Whatever happens, Buck, you don't  
interrupt or try to come between us.  Understand?" 
        "Not even if Judy gets yer face all banged up and  
bloody?" 
        "No.  It ain't nothin' that hasn't happened before." 
        "Shit, you gals are serious!  Don't know who even to  
hoot for."  Buck sat on the ground and waited for us to start.   
His thumb rubbed against his crotch and I knew he was  
horny. 
        "Shut the fuck up, cunt, and fight!"  Judy charged  
me then and we locked arms in a test of strength.  My face  
leaned close enough to Judy's to bite her cheek.  She lost  
concentration and I yanked down hard on her hair, my knee  
jamming into her jaw.  I could see that she bit her tongue.  It  
didn't stop me from punching her in the jaw.  I took pleasure  
in the site of blood spewing out of her mouth as she fell to the  
ground.  I thought she was out cold. 
        "See Buck?"  I said, walking over to him.  "Not even  
a minute." 
        His mouth was open, wanting to speak, but saying  
nothing.  He was in shock. 
        I crouched in front of him and filled Buck's mouth  
with my tongue.  He tasted good, and when he put his hands  
on my breasts, I knew I wasn't 100% lizzie.  I unbuttoned his  
shirt and ran my fingers along his chest and shoulders.   
"Helen.  I thought of you...sometimes in bed..."  He  
kissed me again. 
        "Me too,"  I gasped, in between kisses.  I was so  
enraptured by my fantasy coming true. 
        I felt something slip between my throat and then I  
couldn't breathe.  With a terrible wrench, I was lifted half off  
my feet.  Judy was choking me with her bra. 
        "Today's lesson," she said through bloodied lips,  
"don't turn your back on any woman, unless they submit!" 
        I tried to get enough leverage to throw her over my  
shoulder, but she kept wrenching, dragging me all over the  
grass.  My face became the infamous shade of red that you  
have seen at other such times. 
I reached up and grabbed her titties, squeezing with all my  
might.  Another dream come true. 
        Judy yelled and let go of the bra.  I slumped down  
and her foot smashed into my nose, a couple of times before I  
rolled away.  Now I tasted blood. 
        I stood up, and Judy jumped on my back from the  
rear.  "Stupid cow!  Never turn your back, I said,"  she hissed,  
biting my ear.  Her legs wrapped around my waist and pulled  
against my thighs.  One claw was in my eyes and the other bit  
into my breasts.  I fell back on the ground, but she was kept  
up her hold, clawing and pressing. 
        "I'm gonna be ready for ya soon, honey,"  Judy  
yelled to Buck.   She bit my ears.  Her heel thumped on my  
cunt.  "Take off your pants!" 
        <<Helen looks at Gil:  I see you want to take your pants off  
right now.>> 
        I remember seeing Buck in his underwear, stroking  
his dick, as managed to sit up, Judy-cat still riding me.  I  
slammed my back into the dirt until she released her grip.  I  
sat up, turned around, and was ready to punch hit tits to  
kingdom come, when my throat was in her leg vice.  Her  
pincer like hands gripped my wrists.  I was frustrated by her  
again. 
        "Ha-ha,"  Judy laughed, "Never gonna learn, are ya,  
kid?" 
        My face turned red, but from anger this time.  I  
slowly stood up, and she hung upside down off my throat just  
like the first time we fought.  But this time I started turning  
around and around, faster and faster, making her dizzy like  
she was on a merry-go-round.  She let go of my wrists, and I  
reached up to tickle her feet. 
        Judy flew threw the air and landed a few feet next to  
Buck.  She looked up at him and smiled, just as I grabbed a  
fistful of her hair, and rammed her face into the ground.  It  
wasn't hard enough to make much damage.  I landed my  
knee on the small of her back with a thud and I heard her  
gasp. 
        "Don't ever turn your back on me,"  I told Judy,  
ramming my hand into her ass, "ever again!" 
        She grunted, and then I pulled on her hair, arching  
her backward with my knee lodged at the base of her spine.   
My hand was still in her butt, and I clawed at her from inside. 
        "Stop it!  Stop it!"  Judy yelled, body buckling under  
me.  Her hands scratched at me uselessly.  She was unable to  
get up because of my weight on top. 
        "So, who's Queen for a day?" 
        "You are!" 
        "And who's cunt are you going to lick, kitten?" 
        "Yours!  Helen!  Unnnnhhh!  I am yours!" 
        I turned her over onto her back.  My cat lust was still  
unfulfilled.  I dove my claws into her breasts, mauling them,  
although lightly compared to what I do now.  I mauled and  
bit Judy's face, neck and shoulders.  Her back arched and she  
tried to push me away, clawing at my back to make me stop.   
But I did not.  In fact, her scratching made me even hornier.   
I could have kept going forever, until I felt my panties getting  
tugged off me from behind. 
        Suddenly, Buck was laying on top of my back,  
touching me again.  He kissed my neck, and whispered, "I'm  
as horny as Texas asphalt." 
        His giant-size dong lay in between the crack in my  
ass.  He rubbed against it and I felt the penis grow even  
bigger.  I reached back for it and guided into my juicy cunt.  I  
spread wider and he thrust it in slowly.  I let my upper body  
relax against Judy's and tasted the pleasure of being fucked  
by two people at the same time.  Buck was so excited that he  
came very quickly, but his dick remained rigid.  I could tell  
he was excited by my ass. 
        "Buck,"  I gasped, "Stick it in my ass.  Slowly."  I  
reached back and opened up my ass cheeks for him.  I felt the  
wonderful pain, the incredible sensation of a live cock  
entering my backdoor for the first time.  Buck pumped me in  
there and I grunted and moaned, while Judy played with my  
clitoris and breasts.  My orgasm was incredible.  Buck came  
once more, too. 
        And so I experienced my first real fruit of victory:  a  
bi-sexual love orgy.  After that, the Fever was an addiction for  
me.  I craved the experience and sought it out. 
        Judy and I fought in front of Buck two more times.   
Each time was more intense, both in the violence and in the  
sex.  I won the next time, but she cleaned my clock good on  
the last one.  It turned out to be a parting gift. 
        Wouldn't you know it, but ol' Dad had to spoil it all,  
coming through the barn door to find Judy and Buck bucking  
their way on a naked hay ride.  Dad insisted that Buck marry  
Judy, or stop seeing her.  And Bucko wasn't exactly opposed  
to the idea.  They both seemed ready to settle down. 
        That signaled my exit from the ranch.  Although  
they told me nothing would change, I knew that it would.   
They'd start having babies and soon, no more fighting or  
fucking.  I also knew there was no way in hell I could think of  
them fucking in the room next to mine, without joining them.   
Under one roof, Dad would catch us all sooner or later. 
        I left abruptly one day, leaving a public note behind  
for Dad, a more private one for my first real lovers. 
        I hadn't really any plans or ambitions, other than  
getting out of town with my meager savings. I took a bus ride  
to Las Vegas.  I wanted to see what big city life was like.   
Hah!  I got a job easy enough at a casino, serving drinks and  
showing off my rear end.  I got bored there fast.  But one day,  
driving to work, I saw a sign that perked up my interest.  It  
read:  "S.O.W.  Superwomen of Wrestling!"  I decided it was  
probably a bunch of shit, but decided to go see it anyway.  It  
turned out to be mostly fake, an ancestor of such shows as  
G.L.O.W. or P.O.W.W., with characters like El Matadora, the  
Patriot, the Snake, Jungle Bunny, Angel Fist, and so forth.   
Ninety percent of it was fake.  But when this one gal fought,  
El Matadora, I could she wasn't putting on any show.  She  
was latin, hot-tempered, small, feisty, and knocked the  
beejesus out of Dreamin' Doll at the first match I saw.  I  
contacted the manager, talked him into an audition where I  
threw Jungle Bunny out of the ring, and landed a permanent  
job.  My moniker was Hellcat.  Very fitting, no? 
        Few people saw my performances as Hellcat in  
SOW.  This shit played on pay cable, specialty videos, things  
like that.  GLOW aped a lot of our stuff after we were gone. 
        But I did learn something from it, even from the  
faked fights.  Mostly, how to take a fall properly, how to  
tumble, and how to move quickly.  Occasionally, it would get  
real.  I stole Angel Fist's boyfriend just to get her mad enough  
to give me a challenge a couple of times.  The best challenge  
for me was El Matadora.  She always gave me a hell of a  
fight.  She was this feisty Mexican-American, from a tough  
background.  Came up to my nose.  Her thick little legs were  
stubby and powerful, and kicked like a horse.  She wasn't that  
muscular, but her little shoulders packed an awesome punch.   
I wouldn't say she's pretty, with that long stringy black hair,  
dark complexion, her look is rough, but I lusted after her. 
        The first time we fought on camera, it was one of  
these faked fights.  She was scheduled to win, part of this  
"story" they had worked out.  But I couldn't take it and went  
crazy.  She fought back and tried to put me away, though she  
kept expecting me to leave her an out.  I didn't.  She cursed at  
me backstage and called me so many things in Spanish.  The  
producers wound up loving it, even though I spoiled the  
storyline.  I thought she would just forget. 
        She did not.  Two days later I came home and found  
the furniture in my apartment shoved all in one corner.  El  
Matadora stood in my living room, wearing a g-string black  
bikini.  Her fists were covered with black workout gloves.   
Her battle stance and her eyes radiated rage and cat lust at  
me. 
        "C'mon, white bitch,"  she growled, "Let's get this  
over with.  Slavery for the weekend to the winner." 
        I stripped to my underwear and the cat lust took me  
over, too.  I realized that I had longed for this type of fight  
since I saw her the first time, and wanted to see what that  
body of hers could do, in a no-holds barred fight and in my  
bed.  I stepped into the living room and boy, we really went at  
it.  This was as intense as my fights with Trang.  I wasn't  
ready for it at that point.  The bitch hammered at me with  
those gloved fists, which protected her knuckles.  Ten  
minutes later, my ass was thoroughly kicked, and I submitted  
to her for the weekend.  She kept me in bed almost the entire  
time, loving me tenderly one hour, brutalizing me the next.   
At the end of the experience, I was too ugly looking to go on  
SOW, and I was off for a couple of weeks.  Then the  
production shut down for lack of profits. 
        SOW did bring me enough publicity so that I could  
get jobs wrestling in certain clubs around Vegas.  Most of  
these women were cupcakes, but every once in a while there  
would be a spitfire.  What really excited me during this period  
was when this bigshot offered me my first caged catfight.  It  
gave me that next challenge that I longed for, with big money  
and big stakes involved.  The first one I won, I wound up  
breaking the woman's arm and collecting fifteen grand for a  
half-hour's work.  I went up against a kick-boxer the second  
time around, too cocky and confidant, and almost paid the  
price with my life.  I spent several months recuperating.   Part  
of me wanted to give up fighting, but the cat part of me had  
it's claws stuck in my head.  I invested time in learning some  
new techniques to help me fight martial artists.  Then I had  
my contacts set up another caged fight with that same  
kickboxer.  I wound up killing her, my first and only kill, and  
earning $25,000.  It wasn't easy, and in fact, I came close to  
dying a second time.  Worse, there was no sexual release  
resulting from any of these fights.  I could see that the Fever  
was pushing me in a lethal direction.  I decided to cool down,  
swore off caged fights, and stuck to wrestling. 
 
 
        A promoter offered me the chance to move to Japan  
and do some wrestling on television, in clubs, and private  
matches.  He knew people would pay to see a white American  
take on a Japanese woman, and he was right.   
        <<Looks at Trang: I made big money there, and so  
would you.>> 
        I liked wrestling in the clubs in Tokyo and Kyoto.   
Some really challenging women there, but it didn't get lethal,  
and there was usually slavery and sex afterwards.   
Romantically and sexually, it was one of the most fulfilling  
periods in my life.   
        I had been there about six months, when I met this  
young wrestler named Kamiko.  She was young, but very,  
very, cute.  She was about an inch shorter than me, but  
weighed almost as much as me.  Thick boned.  I wrestled her  
in a club the first time around, and our fight was about on the  
level of my first fight with Judy.  I took her to bed with me  
afterwards, but with a cunning twist, if I say so myself.  I used  
my hands, tongue, dildos, and oil, but I never allowed her to  
orgasm once.  I even handcuffed her to the bed while I slept,  
to keep her from pleasuring herself. 
        "Why?  Why, Mistress?"  she asked me, teary eyed,  
hugging my waist the next morning. 
        "I will not pleasure you until you have made me  
submit in combat,"  I told her. 
        In truth, I wanted to mold her a better wrestler, make  
her a suitable challenge for me.  The best orgasms always  
come from the best competitors. 
        The next week we met again in the ring, and there  
was a fire in her eyes that I hadn't seen before.  I dominated  
her again, and repeated the pattern again of sex without  
orgasm.  We fought in clubs twice a week for two months,  
repeating the same cycle, as she learned my moves and  
created her own.  I was in love with her then, though I did not  
allow my feelings into the ring.  I wrestled my hardest, and  
on Valentine's Day, she had me locked up and writhing on  
the mat.  The pain was so sweet, and I submitted. 
        When we went home, our clothes immediately were  
shed and she ordered me into the bedroom.  My first act was  
to pleasure her, and her orgasm was intense, claws flailing  
around my hide as she screamed with pleasure.  All of Tokyo  
must have heard that cat call.  We fucked, like cats of near  
equal stature, for the whole night and early morning. 
        "I love you, Kamiko,"  I told her the next day.  "Be  
my wife." 
        "I cannot be your wife,"  she replied, "until you have  
bested me three times in a row." 
        And then we spent the next four months settling that  
condition.  I had trained her too well, then.  I often won twice  
in a row, but she usually bounced back the third time to make  
me submit.  She had become a formidable challenge, though  
she was not lethal. 
        We considered ourselves married after we fought in  
a private match in Maui one winter.  We had put on quite a  
show at a private home, winning ourselves an all expenses  
paid week in return.  It turned out to be a honeymoon, as I  
finally whipped her butt three days in a row. 
        "Now I can be your wife,"  she said. 
        "And I can be your wife, after you master the art of  
fighting in pointed high heels." 
        So it went.  Setting challenges for each other, taking  
turns being the wife, though it meant nothing at all, for our  
love was forever.  I believe that is true.  Even though she is  
apart from me now, afraid of her past, I know Kamiko still  
thinks of me with love, even though she tries to suppress it.   
        My Kamiko. 
        The end came when Kamiko started to get bored  
with clubs and private matches.  This was after we had been  
together a year and a half.  She began to eclipse the women  
there and desired bigger challenges.  Around that time, we  
had heard tales of El Matadora fighting in Kyoto, in caged  
black market battles financed by the Yakuza.  Rumors that  
she had killed in these fights, or had taken slaves, or had  
Yakuza lovers were pretty intense around Tokyo.  I had the  
itch to take her on myself, but since I had sword off the caged  
fights for good reason, plus since I had my wedded bliss, I  
decided not to take the risk. 
        My mistake was in telling Kamiko about my living  
room battle with El Matadora.  I saw the cat lust sparkle  
appear in her eye.  I could practically see the gears turning in  
her head.  What a thrill it would be to conquer someone who  
lashed my hide many years ago! 
        "Do not challenge her,"  I told her. 
        "Are you so afraid that I will lose?  After your  
training?" 
        "I am not afraid.  But do we need to take risks?" 
In truth, I was afraid, and Kamiko sensed it.  The  
anxiety made the cat lust in her grow more excited. 
One day soon after that, I flew back into Tokyo, after  
a private match in South Korea.  A friend of ours greeted me  
at the gate as I emerged through customs, telling me that  
Kamiko had been booked for a caged fight that night.  I  
arrived too soon to stop it.  Both women had already entered  
the cage naked, wearing high heels, and wearing the thin  
padded workout gloves.  My friend told me of the conditions  
of the battle:  win by submission to lifetime slavery, or by  
death. 
        "I'm going to take you away from this island, bitch,"   
El Matadora promised her. 
        "And I'm going to give you to my lover on a silver  
platter, you stunt cunt,"  Kamiko said, charging her  
opponent. 
        The battle lasted twenty-five minutes, though it  
could have been twenty-five hours to me.  It concluded with  
El Matadora's face slashed, hip fractured, and toe broken.   
Kamiko had been a great fighter, but the Mexican just wore  
her down over time.  Matadora had smashed Kamiko's face  
against the chain fence, towards me, tears streaming down  
her bloody face, her left arm broken, and right leg paralyzed.   
Matadora twisted Kamiko's right arm, just to the breaking  
point, when her submission came. 
        I screamed and lunged for Matadora, through the  
cage, but it was too strong. 
        "Anytime, gringa,"  she taunted me, dancing around  
on her feet like a boxer, "You can get your ass kicked any day  
of the week.  Viva Las Vegas!" 
        The Yakuza wanted to set up a fight between me and  
her for the next month.  I wanted to strike at her on my own,  
to catch her unprepared as she did me in my living room, so  
many years ago.  Through various contacts, I learned that  
Matadora owned a home in Austin, a home equipped with "a  
locked fuck-fight room," similar to a cage.  She put on private  
matches there for exclusive customers, which they could  
watch through a series of cameras mounted on the ceiling of  
the fight room. 
        <<To Trang:  Of course, this is the same house  
where you and I had our first awesome fight.>> 
        Six weeks later, I broke into that house when  
Matadora went to work-out, and found Kamiko, naked,  
spread-eagled, chained to the floor in a back room.  Her bones  
had mended and she appeared in good health, though her  
spirits were terribly shaken.  I told her to stay out of sight  
until my showdown with the Mexican. 
        When she walked through the doorway into the  
kitchen, she could see me standing in my underware, bare feet  
apart in battle stance, gloves on my fists.   "I challenge you to  
fight for ownership of property.  All assets, money, real  
estate, stocks, bonds, and slaves." 
        "About time you showed up, gringa,"  Matadora  
said, stripping off her shirt, and kicking off her shoes.  Her  
expression was grim and threatening.  "Why don't we  
sweeten the pot with a week of slavery to the winner, huh?" 
        "Take your clothes off and get that butt in here,"  I  
commanded her. 
        Matadora whipped off her shorts and stepped into  
the fuck-fight room.  Her black bra and panties made her  
golden bronzed skin more appealing to me, sparking the cat  
lust I felt.  "I wore this same underwear when I kicked your  
ass back in Vegas.  I feel kinda lucky that I'm wearin' it  
today."  The doors locked when she pressed her thumb  
against a plate.  To leave the room, I'd have to defeat her and  
press the thumb against it, or lose, either way there was no  
interference from an outside source. 
        Our battle was awesome, but since I owned that  
house later, you already know the ending.  I made her submit  
to me with a back-breaker slam on my knee, almost snapping  
her neck.  I pummeled her again and again until she said the  
words.  I had stripped her underwear off her body long before  
the submission, and kept it as a trophy.   
        Matadora was such a mess, I didn't even get to fuck  
her until two days later.  But when I did, I let her have it.  I  
chained her up on the bed and let Kamiko take a few cracks  
at her, too, for revenge.   
        On Matadora's sixth day of slavery, I encouraged  
Kamiko to wrestle her for the hell of it.  It was like the old  
saying about falling off a horse and getting back on it.  I  
figured an easy victory, since Matadora was weakened from  
fighting and fucking, would bring back Kamiko's cat sense  
and spirits.  I took them out on the back lawn late one  
afternoon, for a little wrestle match.  As soon as it began, I  
saw it had been a mistake.  There was no longer any cat lust  
in Kamiko's eyes now.  She moved not to dominate, but to  
evade.  There was real fear there, and Matadora took  
advantage of it.  She easily dominated Kamiko, though the  
Mexican won nothing out of it. 
        The next day I sent Matadora with airport cab fare  
and a one-way ticket to Mexico City.  I sort of looked forward  
at that point to living in Matadora's house that I had won,  
along with Kamiko, of course.  Her cat tastes would come  
back, it was just a matter of time.  I could be patient.  I still  
loved her.  But it seemed like her love had disappeared along  
with her Cat Scratch Fever.  After trying with me for two  
weeks, we both agreed to separate for a while.  I gave her  
money to fly to Maui and establish a new life there, but I did  
not hear from her since she left.  That was four years ago, but  
not a day goes by that I don't think about Kamiko and wish  
her the best. 
        It sounds corny as hell, but fighting never broke  
anything as bad as my heart.  I felt sad that my wife was  
gone.  I settled into a solitary kind of existence that lasted for  
a year and a half.  I was trying to give up fighting, and given  
my spirits, the cat lust didn't strike me that often.  But at the  
end of this period, all I could think about was fighting this  
babe I saw at a health club.  I started doing the usual thing  
once again, wrestling in clubs and in private matches, having  
a fling or a slave occasionally, but nothing kept my interest  
for more than 3 months.  At the end of four years, I think I  
must have fought every qualified woman in Austin.  I decided  
to see the house and try the action in New Orleans.  I had put  
my house up for sale the very same day I hired this Chinese  
gardener and her crew to attend to my yard... 
        ...That was YOU, Trang, and the minute my eyes  
feasted upon your megababe body, I felt cat lust like I hadn't  
since Kamiko.  That first wrestle match on the lawn was just  
for the fun of it, to size you up.  The second time in the  
locked fuck-fight room, I let myself go completely.  You took  
as well as gave, Trang, fantastic considering your relative  
inexperience.  I was pretty impressed that you could still fuck  
me even after I whipped your hide.  You were one tough  
femizon then, and certainly one of the big top catfighters  
now.  But watch out for Tara.  She's a jungle cat. 
Tara is a brute.  I met her three months after I  
started working in New Orleans.  I worked for Lustiricci at  
New Orleans Knockouts.  I had some great bouts with Daisy,  
whom I believe you encountered a couple of times this past  
week, Mistress.  I even went back into cage, as I was  
desperate for money, and wanted to whip Daisy's hide  
supremely.  I did, winning both her lifetime slavery, as well  
as fifteen grand.  Then Tara arrived from the Philippines.   
        Apparently, an associate of Lustiricci's saw her fight in her  
own country, when she fought at a place called the  
Catfighter's Palace.  She got her ass kicked good by some  
rookie, which I later found out was you, Trang.  When this  
fellow went back three days later, he saw Tara challenged by  
another leading Filipina fighter.  The news of a rookie  
beating a pro travels fast, and when the sharks smell blood,  
they attack.  Tara fought this challenger, who used crane- 
boxing, heels, and wrestling against the big girl.  But Tara  
trapped her in a corner and delivered what she calls her  
"killer punch."  She throws her weight and strength in a  
quick snap, delivering a devastating blow.  It whipped the  
challenger's head around and snapped the neck.  When this  
guy saw it, he went nuts and said they had to get her to the  
US.  Lustiricci's contacts forged her a passport and other  
documents, and flew Tara to New Orleans. 
        When I saw her I felt similar to the way I responded  
to Matadora, as Tara's face is not pretty, but her body is  
incredibly powerful and sexy, and she radiates cat lust.  I  
wanted to take her on the minute I saw that naked body enter  
the cage.  I watched her fight another wrestler from the  
Knockouts club.  This lady was taller, more muscular, more  
fast than Tara, and had the Filipina pinned on the ground  
three different times.  Each time, Tara just muscled her way  
back up.  Eventually, this woman tired, and let her guard  
down.  Bam!  Tara throws the killer punch at her face, and  
she's dead.  Boom.  Like that. 
        You would think, if I had any sense at all, I would  
have felt some kind of fear going in that cage to face her.  All  
I saw was this great mountain I had to climb.  I made the  
terms of the fight to include slavery as well as money.  So  
dumb!  I may be a cat, but Tara is a Lioness.  I did a little  
better than the other lady I saw, for one reason.  I survived  
that killer punch.  I was dazed, but knew it was coming and  
rolled with it.  I was knocked out for a few minutes, but got  
up a few minutes later.  The fight had been declared over  
with. 
        I remember seeing Tara's hulking form tower over  
me.  "Good, you not dead.  Survive blow to head.  Pretty lady,  
good enough to be my slave."   
        She slung me over her shoulder like a sack of  
potatoes and brought me to her ratty little apartment.  Tara's  
fucking has little style or imagination.  You dildo her, she  
dildos you, screws you in the butt, gets all worked up, and  
claws your skin.  When Tara's really horny, she crushes your  
body against hers in an air-tight bear hug.  She has very  
limited interests, and spends most of her time working out  
and training.  I managed to get word to Daisy that I had set  
her free, and to leave town for a while so Tara wouldn't find  
out about her.  No doubt she freaked out upon seeing you in  
Houma, thinking that an associate of Tara's had come to  
claim her, once she stripped your shorts off and saw the  
tigress tattoo on your butt. 
        After you hit the Knockout club, Tara found out  
everything about you.  She contacted Lustiricci and arranged  
for me to fight you in the cage.  Then she discovered your  
hotel, and sneakily leaked it to me, I suspect so that I could  
write you the note and warn you in advance.  Why did Tara  
want you to battle me in the cage instead of her?  I think she's  
uncertain of the outcome.  To hedge her bets, she'd have me  
wear you down first, and then attack you afterward, when you  
were weak.  Thank goodness we left New Orleans when we  
did and got away from her in time.  Tara has no honor in the  
art of catfighting.  She makes Matadora seem like Princess  
Di. 
        You want to know Tara's secrets, in order to beat  
her?  Well, I only have two observations.  One, watch out for  
that colossal punch.  Two, she hates you passionately.  I don't  
know what the hell you did to her in the Philippines, but she  
has not forgotten it.  Tara mentions you constantly.  When the  
garbage disposal is running, Tara will say things like,  
"Exactly sound Trang's bones will make when I fight her."   
Use this.  Make her even more angry.  It might make her lose  
control so you can get a good lick in. 
        Well, you beat her once and can probably do so  
again.  Don't underestimate her.  Don't hold back.  Let the  
catfire from your loins spread throughout your body, and  
erupt out of your limbs to smash Tara's body.   Match her  
feral nature with the one that lurks deep inside of you. 
 
 
"Tara!  Tara!  Tara!  All this Tara talk makes me sick,"  I  
yelled, shutting off the recorder.  I looked at my watch.  We  
had been listening to Helen talk for over two hours.  "Let's  
get out of here ladies, and hit the beach.  You're both ready  
for it." 
        I went into my room and changed into my swim  
gear, gathering my snorkeling gear and money.  I came out  
and heard the women in Trang's room.  I edged to the  
doorway and peered inside. 
        Trang laid on top of Helen on the bed, staring into  
her eyes and caressing her face.  Both were clad in bikinis  
already. 
        "Thank you for sharing your life with me, my dear,"   
Trang said lovingly.  "I never knew till now how much alike  
we were.  Or what may be in store for me down the road.  I  
love you as my slave, and perhaps one day when I set you  
free, as my sister." 
        "And I love you, mistress,"  Helen replied.  They  
exchanged tender kisses.  "I hope what I gave you will be of  
help." 
        I grumbled and shuffled my feet to make some noise.   
"Shall we go off to the beach, my cats, before the Fever is  
upon us again?" 
        As we made our way out the door, Helen turned, and  
stood up on her tiptoes looking into my eyes.  "The lesson for  
today:  the Fever can strike us cats anywhere, at anytime." 
 
 
 
It all got out of hand so fast.  The Fever spread just a year  
ago, when I tricked Trang into first fucking, then wrestling  
Morgan the whore back in our apartment in Austin.  It was  
my fantasy come true.  But I wasn't content with it ending  
there.  The Fever had me in it's claws, real bad.  I egged  
Trang to take on aerobics teacher Linda, and to pursue and wrestle her 
for several months learning the basics of catfighting.  That led to  
several small skirmishes, but all kid stuff until we met Helen.   
And all the other fights that happened after that, watching  
her taking on better and more vicious competitors, I was  
crazy about it.  Till the death in Cozumel. 
        Days afterward, I found myself sitting in a hotel  
room in Vegas.  Without Trang.  Waiting for Tara to come  
back from god knows where to continue our honeymoon.  I  
wanted to run out of there like a bat out of hell, but I couldn't.   
Not with the blackmail photos her slave had on me.  I was  
forced to stay with Tara.  I even had to call my job and tell  
them I wouldn't be coming back to work at all.  I knew I'd  
probably be shit of luck finding such a good high-tech job  
there in Vegas.  Though if Tara kept fighting and winning  
big, we'd be living like kings.   
        Yeah, I thought to myself, then I'll get the pleasure  
of begging her for spending money.  Let's face it.  I'm Tara's  
slave now. 
        The door to our suite opened and Tara walked  
through it.  She carried all kinds of shopping bags, enjoying  
the fruits of her victory.  The right to shop like a native born  
American woman.  She'd just come back from Wal-Mart.   
That was exotic to her.  She was wearing jeans, a Mickey  
Mouse T-shirt, and a brown bomber jacket, her long dark hair  
sprayed all over the back of it.  The street clothes hid her  
bulky muscles, but not her face, which belied her stern  
countenance. 
        "Hello, honey,"  Tara said, trying to sound like  
Trang.  "How is day?  Find house yet?" 
        "Fucking shitty,"  I replied, answering the first part  
of her question.  "Yeah, they're plenty of houses to be found.   
Not much we can afford, even with the $30,000 cash you've  
won.  Most decent places here start at $70,000.  And we can't  
get a loan unless one of us has a job.  Plan on flipping burgers  
at Wal-Mart, my dear?" 
        "Hah!"  Tara snorted, dropping ice cubes into her  
seven-up from the bathroom.  "You funny.  That why I crazy  
about you."  She sat down on the chair opposite from myself,  
planting her bare foot in my crotch, stroking my dick with her  
toes. 
        "So maybe we should just rent a place for now,"  I  
suggested.  "A two bedroom place."  One where I could set up  
a computer, surf the Internet, and forget about my monster  
lover. 
        "No need,"  Tara said, dipping a finger in her drink  
and licking it with her tongue.  "We stay here for while.  I got  
cage fight in two days.  Pay $50,000 to winner.  More fight  
after that.  Plenty money to buy nice home in two months  
time." 
        "Awfully cocky aren't you?" 
        "Tara never lose only one fight, in last two years." 
        Trang.  Back in the Philippines. 
        "I only lose fight because of you.  Because of stupid  
promise I made.  Not to kill Gil's poor girl, Trang, because  
Gil going to take me back to US and love me rest of life.  It  
make me hold back, not fight vicious enough.  Trang take  
advantage of that.  Cost me win.  I stupid then.  Smarter  
now." 
        "How did you do it?"  I asked, baiting her.  My video  
recorder was already turned on.  I had hoped to get her  
confession on tape and turn it into the police.  However, due  
to various complications that arose later, I was never able to  
do so. 
        "Hah,"  Tara said, the ball of her big toe rubbing up  
against my balls, her face cracking an evil smile.  "This  
excite you.  OK, Tara tell you the whole story now..." 
        What follows is Tara's story of her ultimate  
conquest, told her in own words.  For the sake of clarity, I  
have cleaned up her grammar for you, my fellow catfighting 
fetishists. 
 
I had never been so humiliated in my life as the time that I  
lost to Trang.  From the time I was young, fighting Filipinas  
in Marcos' prisons, to the streets of Manila, fighting men and  
women for food.  Not even in the Catfighter's Academy, or  
battling kickboxers in Bangkok, have I endured such a loss of  
face.  Tied up to a bed in a hotel room, to be found naked and  
shivering by the lowest of maids and janitors, who laughed at  
me, taking my picture and calling me names.  Oh, they ran  
after I pulled the bed post apart in my rage, and chased them.   
But the little mice scurried away, and in an hour the pictures  
were spreading the news around Manila.  Tara had lost, lost  
big time, to a cocky, rookie, Chinese American girl.  Tara is  
going soft, they think. 
        The challengers came right after me.  One Thai  
kickboxer I had defeated a year ago, suddenly appears at the  
Catfighter's Palace and challenges me.  She fought me for ten  
minutes, knocking me onto the mat with blood streaming  
down my face.  She danced around me, wild with joy, wild  
with the scent of my blood.  She was like a shark.  I arose,  
faked her out with a kick, then fired off my snapdragon  
punch.  I hear a crackle from her bones.  I see that silly thin  
Thai girl's face whip around, and when her head bang  
against the ground, she is dead.  Hah!  I was once again the  
Queen of Manila. 
        It was my good luck that Lustiricci's man saw me  
fight that day.  He said, wow, Tara, you are really great.  You  
come and fight in America, we'll make you big star. 
        I told him I don't care about big star.  I said all I  
want are three things:  good fights, good money, and Trang.   
I know this type of man, Lustiricci.  I know he can deliver the  
first two things.  But the third, I know only the great Cat  
Goddess can arrange. 
        So I came to America, finally in the golden land.  I  
fight women a teenager in Manila could overpower with ease.   
Their bodies are so brittle that my great punch knocks their  
brains out of their heads.  Hah!  And I had heard that  
American women were so tough. 
        Maybe Trang and Helen were special women.  Helen  
was a tough fighter, but old in years.  Maybe five or ten years  
ago, she could have beaten me.  But this year, she was lucky  
to survive my Thai-killer punch.  When I won her, I finally  
have a slave that I can love and respect, who know how to  
fuck me in bed.  I was happy with her for a while, learning  
about American life. 
        Until Trang showed up.  When I heard that a  
Chinese woman had shown up and nearly killed the blond  
kickboxer, my heart flipped.  I wasn't sure it was Trang until  
I caught Helen writing her a note one day.  At first, I was  
furious.  I slapped Helen hard.  She had known of Trang's  
whereabouts all this time, and not told me.  Then I stopped,  
and considered the design of the great Goddess.  Helen would  
fight Trang in the cage.  If Helen won, Trang would become  
my slave to punish forever.  If Trang won, she would be so  
tired, I can easily overpower her afterward. 
        You think that I was not playing fair?  You think it  
was fair to make that deal with me in Manila and then take it  
back?  You think it was fair to leave me tied up to the bed in  
Manila for the little mice to poke and prod me?  You think it  
was proper rule of conduct to take my slave Helen away from  
me, without challenging or dealing with Helen's legal  
mistress first?  No, none of these things are fair.  Trang is a  
cheater and a liar.  I will not play fair with such a treacherous  
tigress. 
        I planned to attack Trang right after the fight, but  
Lustiricci, for some reason took a liking to both of you.   
Warned you and helped you get to the airport before I could  
find you.  I went to Lustiricci and screamed at him,  
demanding to know where Trang went.  He did not help at  
all.  He told me to forget about it, that he would have a fight  
soon for me where I could get it all out of my system.  His  
bodyguards carried me out of office, and told me not to come  
back there for at least a month. 
        The Cat Goddess smiled upon me then, as I later saw  
the blond kickboxer emerge from the club.  As she walked  
over to her car, I followed her.  I grabbed her neck and told  
her that I would snap it if she did not take me home with her.   
She struggled against me, but I pressed her neck and  
squeezed her oxygen supply.  Her fear allowed me to bend her  
to my will. 
        The blond Daisy took me to her home.  She tried to  
fight me there again, and I easily dominated her.  I fucked her  
butt in the bed, over and over again, clawing her back,  
demanding to know where Trang is.  Daisy screamed and  
cried, I don't know, over and over.  She passed out, but I kept  
her prisoner, inside of her apartment, for a day, torturing her  
in bed.  I was almost ready to give up when the phone rang.   
It was Helen, checking to see if her former slave was safe.  At  
that moment, I know Daisy was Helen's slave, and Helen did  
not tell me, trying to protect the little one.  Now I suffer loss  
of face from Helen, too.  The treacherous white bitch would  
have to pay for that, too. 
        I forced Daisy to talk to Helen.  I listened, and I  
learned that Trang was staying at a Mayan Regency Hotel in  
Cozumel, Mexico.  I learned how battered, wounded, and  
afraid she and Helen are, and I know I will have them both  
soon in my claws.  After Daisy hung up, I had to kill her to  
keep her from calling Helen and warning Trang.  Then I  
traveled to Cozumel and stalked your hotel for a day before  
you all came out of it together. 
        I followed you to the lagoon, all of you laughing,  
happy, ready for snorkeling and the beautiful tropical fish.   
You all look so happy and in love.  Just looking at Trang  
made my eyes fill with catlust.  I knew I must strike her down  
right then and there.  I remembered my last fight in the  
Manila, the Thai girl dancing around me like a shark.  I saw  
you putting on the snorkel gear and decided that I shall  
become like a shark. 
        In the Philippines, I swam in the ocean many times,  
never needing snorkel gear.  My big lungs can suck enough  
air for me to stay underwater for five minutes.  I can hold my  
eyes open and don't need a mask.  I dived into the water,  
watching you all swim and play, kissing underwater.  Helen  
seemed to get tired early and left to go back to the beach.   
You two separated and Trang explored the coral, while you  
went further out to see the sunken statue of Christ.  Time to  
regain my honor, I thought to myself. 
        I dived downward fast, arcing my body up behind  
Trang.  I grabbed Trang's hair and pulled her back.  She  
didn't resist.  Maybe she thought it was you, Gil.  But then I  
hooked my left arm around her neck and squeezed.  Trang  
thrashed around a bit, and I brought my right claw sinking  
into her belly.  I dragged my razor sharp nails along her flesh,  
drawing four trails of blood.  Red vapor trails streamed into  
the sea as Trang thrashed and panicked in my grip.  I let her  
go so that she could face me.  Huge bubbles of air escaped  
Trang's mouth when she saw Tara.  I saw the fear in her  
eyes.  That was enough.  I ripped the snorkel mask off her  
face so Trang couldn't see, and got her in a bear hug.  I  
started to squeeze the rest of the life out of her chest. 
        I started to feel very excited then, my nipples  
hardening against her breasts, as I thought of Trang dying in  
my arms. 
        But she recovered her fighting sense.  She closed her  
mouth and stabbed at my eyes.  Trang kicked and tried to  
swim away, but I caught her ankle.  She kicked back at my  
face with other foot, hitting me hard in the face a few times.   
The last time, she broke some blood vessels in my nose and I  
accidentally tried to breath underwater.  Letting go of her  
foot, I surfaced. 
        You swam up to me then, Gil, having seen pink  
clouds in the sea from where your lover had been.  You tried  
to restrain me, but I grabbed your buns and kissed you.  I felt  
you get hard, and knew that a part of you wanted to see this  
fight happen.  A part of you wanted my body, my domination,  
my love.  Wanted to see me come back and thrash Trang.    
Then I thank the Goddess I hadn't killed Trang in the water  
after all.  You had to see my victory on the beach. 
        I pushed your head underwater and swam towards  
the shore.  Trang had already made it out of the water,  
clutching her bleeding belly and yelling at Helen.  I watched  
Trang run into the tropical woods as Helen came to face me  
on the beach.  Helen was crouched, and braced for me, as my  
mighty legs were already propelling me out of the shallow  
water.  My foot arced into her jaw, and she fell back down in  
the water.  Helen was in no shape to fight me.  I grabbed her  
hair and smashed her face into the sand. 
        "I'll deal with you later,"  I told her.  "Do not  
interfere.  Keep Gil away from us." 
        The other natives and tourists were alarmed by us.   
One Mexican man ran up to me and asked what the problem  
was. 
        "Shark attack,"  I said, shoving the puny man to the  
side.  "Run for your lives!" 
        I ran into the woods after Trang.  I saw her  
footprints and her blood, leaving a trail for me to follow.   
Poor Trang.  Stupid city cat, not used to great jungle cat.  Not  
used to Lioness striking at any moment.  Thinking that there  
is any safe place in the world for a member of the Cat Cult. 
I followed Trang's tracks, licking my lips, enjoying  
the taste of my own blood. I saw Trang's footprints without  
the blood.  She must have found some way to stop the  
bleeding.  Later, I see the tracks disappear.  I looked all  
around, knowing that the wounded cat is nearby waiting for  
me. 
        Trang leapt onto my back like the Tigress she was,  
taking me by surprise.  Her legs wrapped around my waist,  
and her hands brought this sharp rock smashing down on my  
forehead.  She was able to get it to cut into my skin above my  
eyes before I grabbed Trang's arms and threw her body over  
my head.  The rock flew out of her hands. 
        She landed on her butt, but got on her feet quickly.   
But I grabbed Trang's hair quickly and smashed her face  
against the gray bark of a dead tree.  I smashed it two or three  
times, as her nose became as bloody as mine.   
        I kept her face pressed against the tree trunk, as I  
said,  "It's over, china girl.  You lose everything."  And then  
my right claw sunk into the nape of her neck, and I became  
even more aroused as I drug them down her back, leaving  
four more red trails of victory, Trang's cat like scream  
registering their pain.  I punched her kidneys with my body  
still keeping hers tight against the trunk, and enjoyed Trang's  
flinching body quiver against mine. 
        Trang yelled louder, not from pain, but a yell to get  
herself going in the fight.  She grabbed my right wrist and  
wrenched me around.  She shifted to a battle stance and  
stabbed at my cunt with her foot, then kicked upward at my  
face.  I blocked the next kick, and laughed at the woman's  
spirit, when her right fist smash into jaw.  Then I am laying  
in the plants, and Trang is running, hopping over fallen trees,  
trying to escape my revenge.  She is either very smart or very  
afraid. 
        My catcall echoed through the woods as I ran after  
my greatest foe.  The Goddess smiled upon me again, when I  
could see the edge of the woods leading to a deserted part of  
the beach.  Trang had tripped and fallen, shakily standing as I  
reached her.  We started kickfighting then, Trang lightning  
fast, kicking my tits and ears, making me back up.  She hit  
me in the face and I got very angry then, and landed a great  
kick to Trang's own chest, followed up with another kick to  
her abdomen.  She backed up and almost tripped. 
        I saw my opening, and launched my Thai-killer  
punch.  It hit Trang in the neck, throwing her head to the  
side.  I saw her body fly backward through the air, and she  
landed ten feet away on the beach.  I was pretty sure I had  
killed her then. 
 
 
 
        But I had heard no snap or even a pop from her  
bones where my fist had kissed them. 
        Trang was moaning and holding her head on the  
sand.  I began to feel respect for her then.  Few had been able  
to take my snapdragon punch and survive.  The blood from  
the cut on my forehead started to sting my eyes, and I knew I  
had to finish this Tigress off.  I ran and leapt on top of Trang.   
My hands wrapped around her scrawny throat and I squeezed. 
        "I kill you now,"  I told her.  "You go meet the Cat  
Mistress.  Tell her I sent you to please her."  I became  
aroused again as I saw Trang's face redden.  Her hands  
pulled at my arms to release them, but she was too weak.  Her  
lower body edged out from under mine and her legs flailed in  
vain. 
        I laughed, thinking of all those who said this one  
was better than Tara. 
        My neck wrenched to one side then.  A powerful  
wrench, almost snapping it, throwing me onto the hot sand.   
Trang had maneuvered her legs up around my neck,  
squeezing me with her donkey strong legs.  I lost my choke  
hold on her. 
        Trang's knees shoved my face into the sand.  I could  
barely breath, but with my great instincts, wrapped my own  
thighs around Trang's waist.  I heard her groan while she  
gasped back the air in her lungs, and knew I could keep her  
from standing up.  We struggled against each other for a  
minute on the white sand.  I tried to crack her ribs with my  
legs, and she maintained the deadly headlock and face press  
with her knees. 
        When Trang must have had enough breath, she  
threw her head forward into my butt, biting me hard with her  
teeth.  At first, I didn't flinch, but she kept up the biting until  
blood was leaking.  I grunted, and lost my chest grip on her.   
        Trang released the headlock and quickly smashed my face  
with her feet again, fast, jabbing toes stabbing my eyes and  
nose.  She quickly stood up and grabbed my ankles.  I was  
now upside down, barely able to see anything because of the  
blood, sweat, and sand in my face.  Trang hugged my waist,  
lifted me up, and drove my head down into the sand in a  
piledriver motion. 
        Poof!  My head disappeared underneath the soft sand  
pile.  Trang stood on my arms to lock them down, and bent  
my legs apart.  I squirmed, panicking, unable to open my eyes  
beneath the suffocating grains of sand.  I thrashed my legs  
and arms, hoping to throw Trang off. 
        I heard her muffled laugh.  Then I know I am in  
Trang's death grip.  But Trang was too cocky or too dumb to  
keep me there.  Just when I started to gag at the sand in my  
nose and mouth, Trang stepped off my arms and lifted my  
head up. 
        "Submit, filipina whore!"  she yelled. At the point, I  
could have given it all up.  Lucky for me, I was coughing out  
sand and too busy to reply to her. 
        Trang twirled me around and around in the air by  
my legs.  She threw me away and I landed hard on my head.   
The cool water washed over my face and revived me a bit,  
washing some sand out of my eyes.  I opened them to see  
Trang leaping on top of me.  I stabbed my legs upward at her  
midsection, throwing her behind me deep into the water. 
        I got to my hand and knees, chest heaving, still  
getting my air back and coughing out sand and blood.  Trang  
is wading through the water towards me, taunting me. 
        "Fucking bitch!  I'll send you back home to  
Manila--" 
        Trang had shut up, because I had thrown a fistful of  
sand in her face.  I hurled myself up as I saw her blinded  
temporarily.  My second snapdragon punch hit her on the  
cheek.  I saw her go flying backward in the air.  I heard her  
hit the deeper part of the water, and then my own knees  
collapsed. 
        Choking out a sigh of relief, I threw water all over  
my face and back, getting the wind into my lungs and the  
sand out of my mouth.  I looked around, and for a minute  
could not see anything but the blue sky and water.  That's it, I  
thought to myself.  Trang is finally dead. 
        Then I saw Trang sit up in the water six feet away  
from me.  I was in shock.  I could not move.  No one had  
taken two of my great Thai-killer punches and lived.  I  
watched Trang stand up, then fall down.  Stand up again,  
look at me with cat lust, then fall down.  Stand up, fall down  
again. 
        I laughed myself out of the shock.  Laughed big belly  
laugh.  I know then Trang is probably tougher than me, but 
I am sneaky, I win. 
        I am not so soft or stupid as Trang.  I knew how  
to seize an opportunity.  I walked over and grabbed her ankles  
as she was sitting in the surf.  I twirled her over onto her  
stomach, so that the waves hit and covered her face.  I bent  
her legs backwards towards her head, and anchored her arms  
with my bare feet. 
        I snorted and grinned, thinking that no one had ever  
performed such a Boston Crab maneuver before.  Trang now  
looked like a crab, a crab drowning in a black bikini,  
dominated by the great Lioness in her leopard-spotted bikini,  
bending the crab's legs and spine backward.  When the tide  
would recede briefly, I could hear Trang scream and wail,  
like she was trying to submit.  A part of me wanted to drag  
her out of the water to hear her beg for my mercy.  But I  
couldn't take the chance that she might live. 
        Then I saw you and Helen come running out of the  
forest, towards us down on the beach.  I knew that you were  
coming to stop me from killing Trang. 
        "Come closer and I will snap her neck with my  
foot,"  I told you.  It made you both halt. 
        I saw the look in eyes when you looked at me,  
triumphant over your woman.  I saw the bulge in your shorts.   
I knew you wanted to love me with your dick right then and  
there. 
        "Make her your slave,"  you said.  "Take her to the  
Philippines.   Make her fight for you all over the world.   
She'll make you rich!" 
        I laughed at you.  "Hah!  I already have plenty of  
slaves back in Manila.  Don't plan on going back to  
Philippines.  Want to be your wife in US, Gil!" 
        "Wait!"  Helen shouted.  I wanted to slap her silly  
then, disobedient slave.  "Maybe there's a better way to take  
her life.  Remember how she left you stranded in the hotel  
back in Manila?  Isn't that a fate worse than death?  Plus, you  
didn't get to fuck her yet.  You didn't make good on your full  
threat yet." 
        The bloodlust faded from my mind a little, as I began  
to think of something better than death for Trang.  I thought  
of my pictures circulating Manila after my humiliation in the  
hotel. 
        "Leave her chained up in our hotel,"  you said.   
"We'll leave together, you and I, back to the US.  Trang can  
stay here, and I'll be with you forever."   
        "Hah!  You trick me last time,"  I replied.  "You  
must marry Tara, tomorrow.  And Helen must submit to my  
will again." 
        "OK!"  You yelled, panicking when you saw that  
Trang's face had stopped bobbing up for air.  "I'll do  
anything for you!" 
        "And I'll give you my life!"  Helen shouted, giving  
me more ideas. 
        I released Trang's legs.  "If she still alive,"  I told  
the both of you, walking towards the beach, "you carry her  
back to the car."  I sat on the sand and watched you fish her  
body out of the surf, my mind thinking of how to carry out my  
new plan.  I realized I had to buy a cheap camera to make it  
all work. 
         
Hah!  It took mouth kissing air into Trang's lungs,  
vomiting, shower, coffee, and  
a 2-hour rest before you had Trang ready and naked for me in  
her bed.  I gave you the camera and had you take pictures of  
myself and Trang.  First, with her on her belly, handcuffed to  
the bedpost, her Tigress tattoo on her butt showing for Manila  
and the rest of the world to see, to know that Tara had finally  
gotten her revenge.  I made you photograph me and my white  
slave, Helen, too, as well as myself having sex with Trang  
and Helen.  I saw it made you so hot and horny, that I had  
you fuck Trang and Helen, and took lots of pictures.  You  
think I am so dumb and kinky, then.  Later, you find out that  
I am one smart cat.  Hah! 
        I put the camera away and strapped the dildo back  
on, around my waist.  I slid it back into Trang's ass, humping  
it and pulling back on her hair, riding her like a horsy at a  
merry go round.  I didn't think she acted much like a proper  
slave.  Maybe she thought of that technicality that she didn't  
actually submit to me.  Or maybe, she was just too tired from  
the fight.  Her face was black and blue and the scratches were  
still raw on her back and stomach.  But I pumped her butt just  
to get your nice and hard for me, Gil, after all the fucking I  
had you do.  Now, it was my turn for pleasure.  In minutes  
you were rubbing yourself in between the crack of my great  
ass that was dominating Trang.  You poked into my butt and  
I loved it, so big and hard, especially when you kissed the  
nape of my neck and touched my breasts.  You kept fucking  
my butt and cunt while I my breasts scraped the tender back  
of your former darling Trang.   Both of us were so excited to  
be together again, in my greatest triumph.  I knew that was a  
great fuck for you, too.  You came before me, and couldn't  
keep going anymore, since that was your third fuck with three  
top catfighters.  You were exhausted.  But I still needed my  
great release. 
        I ordered Helen to take you back to her bed and let  
you sleep.  To pack both her bags and your own.  You two  
think I am going to leave Trang in the hotel and take you two  
back to the US.  But you are only half right. 
        Now Trang and I were alone.  She was still  
handcuffed and laying on her belly.  I took off the dildo and  
strapped it around her waist.  I took a pillowcase off the  
pillow, ripped a strip off, and tied it around Trang's mouth,  
gagging her.  Trang moaned softly as I slid my body under  
hers, and undid the handcuffs.  I knew she was too exhausted  
to go anywhere.  I held her arms, wrapped my legs around  
hers, and whispered softly into her ear. 
        "This is your last fuck in clean bed.  I leave you here,  
handcuffed for the maid to find, like they found me.  Only  
difference is, dead body of Helen will lay next to you." 
        Trang tried to yell, in vain against the gag.  She  
struggled and I could see the catfire in her eyes.  But I  
clamped down with my legs and arms.  She was too weak to  
really fight me then. 
        "Fuck me,"  I whispered into her ear, biting it.   
"Fuck your mistress hard, slave.  It might be the last great  
fuck you have before you go to Mexican prison for life." 
        Then the remaining catfire spread through her body,  
ramming the dildo into me with a jolt.  Trang fought with my  
body, aiming her only weapon deep inside me, hoping to  
injure me somehow.  But she couldn't.  Because I can take it  
so rough.  I slid my hips around, watching the fury in her  
eyes, getting more and more pleasure from her helplessness.   
I bit her cheek to make her more angry.  As I start to come, I  
grip her in a bear hug, and scratch her buns, biting her ear,  
bending her legs to the side with mine.  My great catcall stirs  
through the condo and hallway.  The best orgasm of my entire  
life. 
        "Good slave,"  I whispered to her, and she sank into  
my arms, giving up.  I slid out from under her sweaty body  
and re-cuffed her to the bed. 
        I went into the living room, to find Helen waiting on  
the couch with the bags packed.  I could hear you snoring in  
the next room. 
        "She's still alive?"  Helen asked me, so concerned  
about her Mistress. 
        It angered me, this slave tossing her debt to me out  
of her mind for a Chinese cunt.  I grabbed Helen by the ear,  
stood her up, and slapped her hard. 
        "Come with me,"  I said, dragging her by the ear  
into Trang's bed.  I threw Helen's naked body onto the bed  
and climbed on top of her back. 
        "I'm sorry!"  Helen cried,  "Sorry, sorry, sorry,  
Mistress Tara!" 
        Too late.  My catfury caused me to grab Helen's  
head by the hair and twist.  Trang looked back at us, her eyes  
wide with fear. 
        I jerked Helen's head and heard her neck snap.  She  
farted as she died.  I laid her head on the pillow, dead eyes  
staring at Trang.  A muffled cry erupted from Trang's throat,  
and I saw tears stream down her face. 
        I never had the pleasure of hearing or seeing Trang  
submit to me in combat.  But now I felt like I had finally  
broken her spirit.  After I showered, as I put on some of  
Trang's own clothes to wear back to the US, I watched her  
cry, her bare legs pounding the bedsheets in frustration.  I  
know a feeling of pleasure almost better than an orgasm then. 
        While you still slept, I went down to the lobby, and  
mailed the film I had taken back to my most trusted slave  
back in Manila.  I left her instructions to make copies of the  
pictures and distribute the ones with me, Trang, and Helen in  
them around the city.  And to guard the ones with you and  
Helen together with her life.  As you now know, if I fail to  
report to her regularly, she will send these to the authorities  
in US and Mexico.  They might extradite you for Helen's  
death, as your semen was found inside her during the autopsy.   
That keep you with me now, Gil, no?  It will stop you from  
running off and finding Trang.  Don't worry, soon you will  
forget about her.  Especially after I win big here in Vegas and  
get other slaves for you to fuck and money for you to manage. 
        But the last part you don't know, for you slept until I  
came to take you to the airport.  I came back into Trang's  
room after mailing the film, and kneeled down beside the bed,  
forcing her to look me in the eyes. 
        "Now I've done it all, Trang.  Like I promised you  
back in Manila.  Fought you and fucked you.  Took your  
money."  I held up an envelope that held the rest of the cash  
from her New Orleans catfight.  "Took your life away, your  
rich US lifestyle that you, so stupid, throw away by stepping  
into ring with me back in Catfighter's Palace.  Your clothes,  
car, money, man, all belong to Tara now."  Laughing at  
Trang, I laid down on top of her naked backside, bringing my  
arms around to hug her breasts tightly. 
I whispered into her ear:  "Maid come and find you.   
Police come and ask questions.  Maybe you don't go to jail for  
life, but they keep you long enough to ask more questions.   
Maybe you go to women's prison for a while.  I heard tales of  
vicious senoritas who fight with switchblades.  I think maybe  
you die there.  Or maybe you just get put in hospital.  Either  
way, you get delayed.  I take Gil back to US, but not where  
you used to live.  By the time you find us, he won't love you  
no more.  He love me and my new American catpack." 
        I laughed again.  Trang just glared at me. 
        I bent closer to her face.  "Make no mistake, Trang.   
You fool enough to see me again, whether it's in US or in  
bloody Catsport tournament, I'll snap your neck like I did  
Helen's." 
        I could hear what she said even through the gag.   
"You're dead, bitch." 
        I sat up and whacked her hard on the buns,  
remembering her slang from the last time we parted.  "May- 
bee, bay-bee!"  I cackled as I closed the door to her room and  
went to collect you, Gil.  To our wonderful, American life  
together, married in Vegas by Elvis the King the very next  
day. 
 
 
Tara ended her story by standing up and removing her shirt,  
and staring down at me with her nipples aroused.  Her  
bronzed skin so appealing. 
        "You like story,"  Tara said.  "It get you hot.  Think  
of Tara, dominating Trang."  She smiled, leaned down, and  
kissed me, rubbing my rigid cock with her hand. 
        "No,"  I gasped, but my hands gave me away,  
unbuckling her jeans and pulling them down Tara's sexy big  
thighs. "Yes!" 
        Tara laughed as I stood up and pushed her onto the  
bed.  I whipped off my own clothes and leapt on top of her,  
kissing her neck. 
        "Hah!"  Tara said.  "Who is Trang?  We never heard  
of one called such."  She wrapped her legs around mine as I  
squeezed her butt. 
        God help me, I thought of Trang every minute I  
fucked Tara.  But this time what excited me was the thought  
of Trang coming back to dominate Tara.  To save me from  
my prison, though Trang was too trapped by her own  
Mexican prison nightmare at that moment, to come to my  
rescue. 
        After fucking my hellcat, as I drizzled off to sleep  
against her side, I thought to myself:  Not only am I a slave,  
I've also become the male equivalent of Lois Lane.  Waiting  
like a dumb shit bimbo for Supergirl to come and save me. 
 
 
 
 
Two months after our arrival, we had bought a house in a  
suburb close to Vegas.  I gave up on trying to find a new  
high-tech job, as the process of finding the house, buying it,  
furnishing it to Tara's needs, then becoming Tara's  
"manager"--in reality, becoming Tara's "wife"--was a full- 
time job.  Now I understood why Tara needed to keep me  
around.  With her English less than perfect, and her lack of  
knowledge over financial and business transactions, she  
needed someone who could get her a good deal.  Lustiricci  
had ripped her off back in New Orleans.  Coming from a  
third-world country, $5,000 for a caged fight might seem at  
first like $50,000.  I was no Don King, but I could sure as shit  
do better than that for Tara. 
        The house was a two-level deal, with four bedrooms,  
a living room and den, and a two-car garage.  We didn't park  
any cars in the garage, not even once moving in.  From the  
start, we had the garage stocked with barbells, weights,  
benches, bars, punching/kicking bags, and some cardio  
machines.    She worked out there every morning and night  
without fail, unless she had a fight scheduled.  The backyard  
of the house was equipped with a hot tub, which we could  
climb into from a sliding door in the master bedroom.  I had  
my own bedroom, though I didn't use it much in the  
beginning for sleeping, with a computer to access the  
internet.  It was helpful to access certain people over the  
Internet to arrange matches, and make sales of videos we had  
taped of Tara's matches.  Soon, we were doing a brisk  
business there, as my fellow net fetishists were shelling out  
$100 a tape for Tara's battles in the ring and in the cage. 
        There was a living-room in the upstairs portion,  
where Tara made her daily ritual of watching Gomer Pyle and  
F-Troop re-runs on our 50-inch TV and stereo system.   
Downstairs, the den was empty, except for thick blue mats  
that lined the floor.  Her own type of fuck-fight room, though  
I wondered who would be crazy enough to come and fight  
here.  Mysteriously, Tara had me furnish the other two rooms  
with beds and accessories.  I asked her if she had planned to  
move her family over here to Vegas. 
        "Tara family dead,"  she said solemnly.  "Died in  
Marcos' prisons.  This for Catpack." 
        "Catpack?" 
        "Slaves, won in battle.  Find me great fighters who  
can take my punch, then we have women living here!  Slaves  
who train with me and fight for me, bringing us even more  
money." 
        I began to search for a fighter who could take out  
Tara.  When she was out training in the gym or out shopping,  
I would lie on the bed and dream of an amazon who could  
make Tara submit in battle.  Who could order her to release  
me and give me back those photographs in the Philippines.  I  
searched over the Internet, ordering all the videos I could find  
references to, where women wrestled or fought one another.   
Ninety percent of them were staged, with little cupcakes  
running around in bikinis pretending to hurt each other,  
while trying hard not to laugh.  But every once in a while,  
there was a little gem, where I could tell the ladies were  
strong as hell and really into it. 
        That's how I found Ina. 
        I managed to talk Tara into letting me fly to Seattle  
for a couple of days to meet with her.  In her videos, she  
seemed to be a Cory Everson wanna-be or lookalike.  Ina was  
a dyed dish-water blonde, two inches taller than Tara, at 5'8",  
and so much more muscular.  Her ass was incredibly toned  
and round, and her silicone tit-job put her in Babewatch's  
Pamela Bamberson's league for sheer sex appeal.  Ina had  
won every single match in all the videos I had watched.   
Women bodybuilders, female kickboxers, even men who were  
taller than she was, Ina took 'em all down. 
        I pitched the fight to Ina as her ultimate challenge.  I  
knew she had to be tired of the scene there in the Northwest.   
I explained to her that if she won, she'd be $50,000 richer.  If  
she lost and survived, she'd have $5,000 plus all her expenses  
in Vegas paid.  After I showed her a tape of Tara smashing  
an opponents jaw with her fist, leaving the poor babe so  
broken and bleeding she couldn't even talk, I explained to Ina  
that she would have to sign a waiver excluding us  
responsibility for death or permanent disability. 
        Ina just grinned and popped a bubble with her  
chewing gum.  "Forget that bullshit stuff.  What are the fight  
conditions?  The ones you can't put in the contract." 
        "Tara wants to fight you in a cage, no sharp nails or  
heels.  Punching, kicking, wrestling, she's gonna use all three  
with no holds barred.  But she's going to fight you for  
permanent slavery.  Or death, your choice." 
        "Tell her it's gonna be her CHOICE, pal!"  Ina  
jabbed a sharp nail into my chest.  "When do I go to Vegas?" 
        A week later, Ina walked naked through a door for  
her caged fight with Tara.  Tara circled around her carefully.   
She was confidant that she was going to win this fight, but  
she wasn't taking anything for granted.  In that, Tara was  
superior than Trang, for she was never so cocky in fight that  
she got careless.   
        With a snarl the two femizons locked horns.  Tara  
reached up and embraced Ina's shoulders, biting her neck. 
        Ina screamed and picked Tara up in her arms, above  
her head.  Ina quickly sat down on one knee and brought Tara  
crashing down on top of the standing knee.  She was hoping  
to put a dent in Tara's back, but my Filipina captor had  
shifted herself around so that the impact hit her on the side.   
It must have hurt her ribs like hell, but Tara simply pressed  
her attack, biting into Ina's large tit, and scratching the  
blonde's face with blunted nails. 
        The high-roller crowd surrounding the cage went  
wild.  I sat in a small room on the side watching the fight  
through four video cameras I had set up in the ceiling of the  
cage.  What a price we were going to sell that video for! 
        Ina rolled backward and punched Tara once in the  
face.  She stood and faced Tara.  "You're a fucking animal!"   
she yelled, her upper lip curled in anger. 
        "Cat!"  Tara hissed.  "I am Cat!"  She volleyed a  
series of kicks and punches at Ina.  The blond deflected a  
number of them, but allowed Tara to drive her back into a  
corner.  She managed an offensive punch at Tara's face,  
breaking the Filipina's nose. 
        Tara launched her snapdragon punch at Ina's head.   
It whipped the blonde's head to the side, blood spurting out of  
the nostrils.  But it didn't knock her off her feet.  Ina simply  
shaked her head back and forth and faced Tara. 
        "Hah!"  Tara laughed licking the blood running  
down from her nose.  I could sense the catlust in Tara's  
expression.  "Maybe Tara doesn't have to kill you, just smash  
like dog." 
        Ina charged Tara.  Two haymakers connected with  
Tara's head, not quite on the snapdragon level for intensity,  
but enough to make the Filipina dizzy.  "Dumb fucking  
hulk!"  Ina shouted. 
        Hugging her around the waist, Ina picked up the  
Filipina and inverted her, to smash her head into the ground.   
But Tara dug a claw into Ina's breast, another claw into her  
groin, and the double pain caused Ina's scream to fill them  
room once again.  Her arms released Tara's waist. 
        As soon as Tara's feet hit the ground, she pulled and  
tugged at Ina's body, throwing her to the ground.  Ina's hands  
clutched her groin, leaving her helpless as Tara crouched  
over and pummeled her face with another snapdragon, a  
snapdragon to each of her silicone titties, her stomach, and a  
final deadly punch to Ina's cunt.  Although her hands blunted  
the blow, we could all see a soundless cry escape from Ina's  
mouth.  Soundless, because Tara had smashed the air out of  
her. 
        Tara stood up and walked next to Ina's head. 
        "Kiss,"  Tara hissed.  "Kiss the foot of your new  
mistress." 
        Ina writhed on the floor, still unable to speak.   
        Tara's foot smashed into her nose. 
        "Submit!"  Tara commanded, kicking her again in  
the throat.  "Submit!  Bitch!" 
        Ina curled up in a fetal position, to protect herself  
from Tara's blows.  "S-s-submit.  I submit." 
        "Good, slave." 
        And that was how Ina became the first member of  
Tara's new Catpack.  Tara was so excited to have her come  
into the house, though she did not reveal this to Ina.  Having  
a big-titted blond, an American amazon under her command,  
had been Tara's dream.  In bed, she commanded Ina to lean  
over her, so that Tara could caress and suckle her giant  
breasts.  Ina seemed to love it, and in fact just about anything  
that Tara did to her.  They spent almost the entire first two  
weeks in bed together. 
        Sadly, Ina was much more butch than either Tara or  
Trang when it came to the bedroom.  Tara would have to  
command her each and every time to have sex with me.  She  
appeared to enjoy it as long Tara was in the room, but if she  
ever left us alone, the interest vanished along with her  
mistress.  It didn't make my lust falter for this Cory clone,  
and I continually thought up schemes to make her more  
pliable to the cause of male sexuality. 
        Two weeks after the Ina fight, the doorbell rang one  
afternoon.  A tall brunette wearing dark glasses, leather  
jacket, skirt, and heels coldly stated, "I've come for Ina." 
She shoved me aside, charging up the stairs to the  
living room.  Tara and Ina happened to be up there watching  
TV. 
        "You're the fucking bitch who took my Ina,"  the  
woman shouted at Tara.  "I'm taking her back now."  She  
took off her jacket, revealing her chest bulging out of her  
white tank top, just as siliconed and muscled as Ina's,  
although more tanned. 
        "Buri!  You said you wouldn't interfere--"  Ina  
started to say. 
        "Silence!"  Tara yelled, and slapped Ina across the  
cheek.  "I handle this stupid woman." 
        Buri lunged at Tara, but the Filipina caught her arm  
and threw Buri over on the couch. 
        "Want Ina?"  Tara asked.  "Okay.  You fight for her,  
now.  You win, take Ina back.  You lose, become my slave.   
Come." 
        Tara grabbed Ina's arm and dragged her slave down  
the stairs.  Buri's mouth dangled open as she watched her  
former lover docilely follow Tara. 
        "I ain't just gonna win!"  Buri shouted, running  
down after Tara.  "I'm gonna make you wipe Ina's ass for the  
rest of your fucking life!" 
        Tara simply laughed as she walked into her version  
of the fuck fight room.  She deposited Ina in a corner.  As  
Tara stripped off her clothes, she taunted Buri:  "Shut up.   
Fight.  Fight naked.  Show Ina how much you love her.  Try  
to take her away from Tara." 
        Buri stripped off her glasses, top, shoes, and skirt,  
and I marveled at her bronzed body.  If Ina was a Cory clone,  
then Buri was a cross between Rachel MacLish and Cindy  
Crawford.  Both Ina and Buri were seriously lesbian, and it  
was only natural that two such perfect physical specimens  
would be drawn to each other and they had been.    
        Buri's heavy breasts swayed in the air as she  
advanced towards Tara, hands stretched below her waists,  
looking for signs of intent in Tara's body.  Buri's hand  
grabbed ahold of Tara's hair, and her leg jammed into the  
Filipina's neck.  Tara grabbed the thrusting leg, twisted it,  
and threw Buri to the ground.  She stabbed the brunette's  
cunt with her foot. 
        I had sat down on the floor next to Ina, watching the  
fight.  She placed her hand on my crotch as we watched it.   
Watching seemed to excite her, too. 
        Buri yelped in pain, but managed to grab Tara's foot  
before a second stab hit, and tossed the Filpina onto the  
ground.  Tara landed on her hands and kness, and Buri  
pounced on her back.  She locked her legs around Tara's.   
Grabbing the Filipina's head by the hair, she pounded my  
Tara's kidneys with thunderous blows.  We could hear Tara  
groan and see her grimace. 
        By this point, both my clothes and her own had been  
yanked off by Ina.  Ina now rode my cock, her back to my  
face, my hands reaching from behind to play with her breasts.   
She gasped as she excitedly watched the fight between her  
mistress helpless in her lover's grasp. 
        "Give up!"  Buri yelled, yanking on Tara's head with  
both hands now.  "Submit!"  She bit Tara's ear and we saw  
her squirm.  "Or die!"  Her hand clawed Tara's breasts. 
        Tara reached backwards and grabbed Buri's hair,  
yanking, then jerking forward, smashing Buri's nose against  
Tara's skull.  Buri released Tara, and the Filipina rolled  
down on her back, kicking with both feet at Buri's chest.  The  
brunette haired amazon rolled backward and onto her feet. 
        The two warriors now faced each other again.  Tara  
looked at Buri warily.  Buri mistook this for fear and reached  
in for Tara's body again.  Tara let loose with two snapdragon  
punches, one to Buri's nose, the other to Buri's chest, that  
knocked her off her feet and crashing against the wall. 
        Buri kneeled over on the mat, as Tara's foot kicked  
her in the side.  Buri wailed, and Ina rode my cock even more  
excitedly. 
        "You."  Tara stated, kicking Buri again in the side.   
"Give up."  Another kick.  "Now."  Another kick, this time to  
the head. 
        "Bitch!"  Buri screamed, and struggled to stand up. 
Tara hugged Buri's waist, lifting her challenger over  
her head, even though she outweighed her by fifteen pounds.   
Tara squeezed the air out of Buri's diaphragm, then pile- 
drivered her head into the mat.  Even though cushioned, with  
all the kicks and blows to Buri's face, it must have hurt like  
hell.  She piledrivered Buri again and again into the mat. 
        Ina sat up off my dick then.  I was so close to  
coming, and so was she.  I thought she might attack Tara for  
a moment while she was unaware. 
        Instead, she laid down beside me, grabbed my  
shoulder and pulled me over on top of her.  "Do me now!" 
        I didn't need any other words.  I throttled  my penis  
into a moaning Ina, as we watched Buri suckle Tara's toes  
and promise to be her loyal slave for the rest of her life.  In  
the afterglow of our orgasm, Ina even kissed me with her  
tongue excitedly.  I thought my fantasy, every man's fantasy  
of having his own little harem, had finally come to pass.   
From here on in, every night would be full of great sex and  
fighting like this one.  Another fantasy fulfilled! 
        I was so foolish.  For after Buri joined Tara's  
Catpack that night, life with these catfighters soon became a  
nightmare so intense that I could have become the poster boy  
for celibacy. 
 
 
The thing about it is, I don't even remember myself how I  
caught the Fever.  Perhaps it was when my older brother took  
me to see "From Russia When Love," the James Bond movie  
with Sean Connery.  Bond visits a gypsy camp where these  
two vixens tear into each other.  My brother loved it, and so  
did I, even though I was not pubescent, I still remember  
feeling a thrill from my groin. 
        Or could it have been comic books that passed the  
virus into my brain?  I remember the cover of a 60's DC  
comic called Anthro, where two prehistoric babes in wolfskin  
bikinis are wrestling before an excited gathering of males.  I  
was never able to find this issue, but would lay in my bed at  
night, touching myself and dreaming of what the fight would  
involve. 
        As I grew older, I found more movies and books to  
fuel the Fever.  Faster, Pussycat, Kill, Kill!  Gorgeous Ladies  
of Wrestling (G.L.O.W.).  Various cheap magazines.   
Thinking about them would make me so aroused, that even if  
I were at work or driving around, I would get hard. 
        A pattern of fantasizing ensued.  Not only would I  
fantasize about various wrestlers, but I would include  
Hollywood celebrities and women I knew in real life.  In my  
classes, my workplaces, or my gym, I would record their  
shapely bodies in my masturbation rolodex for later replay.   
What would it be like if this blond took on that brunette.   
Who would win?  What would happen if they had sex  
afterward? 
        When I started working professionally, I developed a  
taste for Asian women.  Again, I don't know where this  
comes from, and I stopped trying to analyze it long ago.  But  
the reality of my love affairs was so far apart from my fantasy  
life.  It was a compromise I had pretty much accepted, as my  
lovers were delicate beauties who would never dream of using  
physical force against another person. 
        That was what I had settled for.  Until I met Trang. 
        I had observed her for almost a year at my gym.  She  
was one of my favorites to watch work out, as she didn't shy  
away from weight lifting and intense cardio workouts.  Trang  
was tall for a Chinese woman, 5'6", broad shouldered, with  
nicely defined arms and toned butt.  I would watch her  
workout in her biking shorts or leotard and long to run my  
hands over her body.  I fantasized about her taking on the  
aerobics instructor, Linda, a blond about her same height.   
But I was too intimidated to approach Trang. 
        I didn't have to.  One day, she approached me. 
        I was doing some bench presses of my own, and had  
bitten off more than I could chew.  I didn't have a workout  
partner, and my arms had just buckled on my eleventh rep.  I  
couldn't get the 130 pound bar back up to the hooks.  I  
strained and groaned.  I saw Trang's face dangle above my  
head.  She pulled the bar up with one hand and into the  
hooks. 
        "You shouldn't press weights alone,"  she said.   
"Want to work out together?" 
        I spurted out some meaningless garbage.  Probably  
for the rest of the workout.  I had no idea what I said, I was  
just delighted to be working out with Trang.  But I didn't  
press my luck too much at first, settling for a routine workout  
schedule with her in the beginning.  I was unable to  
determine if Trang was honestly attracted to me, or just  
wanting a workout buddy.  Part of my intimidation came from  
the fact that she was so much more fit than I was, and more  
disciplined.  It seemed like she would desire a Schwarznegger  
type to satisfy her need.  As I got to know Trang over the next  
few weeks, I learned that she had been with several such  
muscle-bound oafs, and had burned out on them.  She was  
looking for someone less obsessed with their bodies and more  
sensitive to her needs. 
        A month after our first meeting, I invited Trang up  
to my apartment after we had seen a movie together.  I  
watched her bend over as she pulled a Gatorade out of my  
refrigerator, and my lust bulldozed it's way through all my  
insecurities.  As she closed the door, I pressed Trang's body  
against the cool surface and kissed her on the lips lightly.   
Then, suddenly afraid, I backed away. 
        Trang simply smiled at me.  "About time you did  
that.  Jeezus, Gil, you're the slowest man alive!"  She grabbed  
my waist and pulled my body against hers again.  As her lips  
enveloped mine, I thought her incisors were fangs for a  
moment. 
        The first few months were so exciting.  It seemed  
like I could fuck her forever and not get tired.  One night, we  
actually made love eight times in a row, finally going to sleep  
at dawn.  To my surprise, I found out that Trang actually  
loved anal sex.  She mentioned something about once having  
a Brazilian boyfriend who taught her how it should be done  
safely for arousal. 
        A half a year later, we started living together.  And  
somewhere over the course of the next six months, our  
lovemaking became routine, and less exciting.  Both our lives  
got busier, with a promotion at my work, and Trang starting  
her own landscaping service in Austin.  We started getting  
too busy and tired to have sex every night, and soon it  
dwindled down to once or twice a week.  Our sex lives went  
the way of the rest of our life, routine and boring. 
        By that time, I had found out much more about  
Trang's past.  There were hints of a lesbian affair once in her  
teenage years, back when she was living in Hong Kong,  
waiting to come to the US.  An older Chinese teacher had  
seduced her.  Trang claimed it was an experience she never  
wanted to repeat again, but whenever we talked about it, I  
noticed she became very horny.  At other times, when we  
would watch television or videos, or see certain women,  
Trang would also get very hot and moist.  I knew she had  
definite bi-sexual hungerings that were repressed by societal  
mores, and I yearned to release them. 
        Around the same time, Trang discovered my  
wrestling fantasy fetish.  She had uncovered a stack of videos  
in my second bedroom closet.  I came home one day to  
discover her watching the video from Seattle of two female  
bodybuilders wrestling each other in an incredibly real match.   
She chastised me for having such a weird fantasy.  But Trang  
couldn't take her eyes off the video.  And that night, our  
lovemaking was once again very intense. 
        "Wouldn't it be great if you challenged Linda?"  I  
whispered into her ear as I thrust into her from behind.   
"Made her submit and brought her to our bed for us both to  
ravish?" 
        Trang moaned and thrust her hips excitedly.  After  
we came, I tried talking to her about it again. 
        "Don't be silly,"  she said, turning over on her side  
to sleep.  "Things like that don't happen in real life." 
        But we continued watching female wrestling and  
fighting videos together, and our lovemaking became more  
and more intense.  We would even wrestle together naked  
sometimes, but I was no match for her, as Trang always took  
advantage of my bulging erection.  While we made love, I  
would whisper catfighting scenes with women from the gym  
in her ear, and she would go crazy. 
        At this point, I had all the ingredients necessary to  
ignite the Cat Scratch Fever in Trang.  Repressed bi-sexual  
desires.  A sexual urge to wrestle and fight others.  If only I  
could break through the societal barriers implanted in her  
mind, there would be an explosion of fury and catlust.  I  
needed a catalyst. 
        So I flew in Morgan, the whore. 
 
 
I had met Morgan during a flew business trips up to Seattle  
for meetings with Microsoft.  My friends had given me the  
name of an escort agency.  Morgan breezed into my hotel  
room one night when I was feeling lonely and horny.  She  
was small but fit, and endowed with nicely round breasts.   
Her thighs were small but sexy.  I employed her on more than  
one occasion and we seemed to have a great relationship,  
even though I knew it was all strictly business.  She would  
even bring over some pot for us to smoke and get high.   
Morgan told me how she loved to seduce other women.  She  
even mentioned wrestling other hookers for her clients  
pleasure, and had offered to do so for me. 
        I contacted her through the agency she worked for,  
and spelled out my plan to Morgan.  I offered her $5,000 for  
one weekend's work, and an extra one thou if she actually got  
Trang to fuck and wrestle her. 
        "I'm always up for a challenge,"  Morgan said,  
giggling. 
        So, one weekend in March, Morgan, the fiancee of a  
high school chum, came to visit Austin, and we graciously  
allowed her to stay in our extra bedroom. 
        I could sense a bit of jealousy from Trang as Morgan  
walked off the ramp in the airport, wearing a sexy tight  
tanktop, her blue eyes glittering as she kissed me lightly on  
the lips.  I noted Trang looking at Morgan's breasts and butt  
in her tight black clingy pants. 
        Morgan continued to play a catty game of flirting  
with me as we gave her a sightseeing tour of Austin and out  
to dinner.  While Morgan was in the bathroom, Trang turned  
to me. 
        "So, how many times have you fucked her?" 
        "I-I didn't,"  I started to stammer. 
        "Don't fucking lie to me.  I know you've slept with  
her." 
        "It was a long time ago, OK?  And she's with one of  
my best friends now.  Don't worry, it's all over." 
        Trang merely bit her nails into my arm as Morgan  
rejoined us.  The two ladies each exchanged a false smile of  
contempt. 
        Back in our apartment, I made some tea for the  
ladies, and Morgan contributed a special dessert she had  
brought back from Seattle. 
        Macademian Marijuana Brownies.  It's not a recipe  
you'll find in Martha Stewart's cookbooks. 
        I told her to dose them lightly, as we couldn't have  
Trang going to sleep too soon.  I held my breath while she  
played with it on her plate, but she soon ate it and found it  
delicious. 
        "Hmmmm.  I'd like another,"  Trang purred. 
        "Hey, you're in training,"  I reminded her. 
        Right on cue, my beeper went off.  I pretended to call  
work from the next room. 
        "Gotta go to work,"  I told the women.  "My  
database system has crashed and worldwide operations needs  
a fix now." 
        "Shit!"  Trang said.  "Why does it always have to be  
on a Saturday night?" 
        "Guess we'll just have to have our own little ladies  
slumber party,"  Morgan said, rather cattily. 
        "Yeah,"  Trang sighed, stretching her body.  "I  
might go to sleep early.  Feel kinda light-headed.  Hope I'm  
not coming down with the flu." 
        "Better get to bed, then,"  I said to Trang, kissing  
her on the lips.  "See you soon." 
        Morgan pinched my butt as I left, much to Trang's  
dismay. 
        I left then, knowing the script that Morgan was  
about to play out, but my anxiety and guilt was quelled by the  
brownie that I had just eaten.  I passed some time in a bar  
downtown, swigging down beers while trying not to be afraid  
of what was happening to Trang.  When I returned home, I  
found out the real story. 
 
 
Both women had retired to separate bedrooms to undress and  
get ready for bed.  Trang had stripped off her clothes and put  
on her usual large t-shirt, coming down just below her  
genitals.  She had gone into the kitchen, seeking some  
snacks, having a sudden urge for munchies.  Trang was  
drinking some water and smearing it on her flushed face  
when Morgan padded into the room in her bare feet. 
        Morgan was wearing only a white bra and panties.   
Trang stared at her chest. 
        "Jeez, your chest is big,"  Trang muttered.  "Is it real  
or silicone?" 
        "It's 100% real,"  Morgan said, coming closer,  
staring her blue pools right into Trang's eyes.  "Gil loves  
them.  He loves to touch and play with them.  I even let him  
bite down on them hard with his mouth." 
        "Fucking hell!"  Trang shouted, spitting out water.   
"I knew you had slept with Gil!" 
        "Oh, it's more than that, my dear.  We're having an  
affair.  And now I've come back here to make it permanent.   
You're getting kicked out, little Sheba.  Gil's too cowardly to  
give you the walking papers, so I'm doing it!" 
        "You stupid bitch, you're not even Asian!"  Trang  
put down her glass, balling up her fists.  "You're only a  
cheap, white-trash, one-night stand.  Gil would never go for a  
wimp like you!" 
        "No!  You're the wimp."  Morgan grabbed Trang's  
forearms and squeezed hard. 
        "Owww!"  Trang grabbed hold of Morgan's  
shoulders, but it was too late. 
        Morgan yanked hard and dragged Trang out of the  
kitchen.  Trang tried to pull back, but he feet slipped on the  
kitchen floor.   Morgan dragged her into the living room, and  
threw her onto the carpet.  Trang landed on her back and  
Morgan pounced on top of her. 
        "Get out of here!"  Morgan slapped Trang hard  
across the face. 
        "This is my home!"  Trang yelled back, stopping  
another slap.  The two women tussled on the floor with their  
arms.  Morgan covered Trang's face with her breasts, while  
she pinched the skin on my darling's arms to force her back  
flat on the carpet.  Trang brought her legs back and pushed  
Morgan off her body to the side. 
        Trang got on her hands and knees to stand up, but  
Morgan got to her first.  Morgan kneeled in front of Trang,  
encircling my lover's neck in-between her deadly little thighs. 
        "Maybe I won't make you leave yet,"  Morgan said  
excitedly.  "Maybe I'm gonna ride you a bit before I make you  
hit the road!"  She squeezed her thighs and somersaulted  
forward.  Trang's body flew up in the air and came crashing  
back down hard on the carpet. 
        "Arrgggh!"  Trang yelled.  They were now in the  
hallway leading to the master bedroom. 
        "Give it up, honey!"  Morgan commanded.  She  
somersaulted forward and brought Trang along for the ride  
again. 
        "Aieee-yeeoow!"  Trang screamed, and pounded her  
legs against the carpet.  She reached back towards Morgan's  
chest with her hands, but the whore grabbed them. 
        "Giddy-yup, horsey!"  Another somersault forward.   
They were now in the master bedroom.  Morgan released her  
hold on Trang and pulled the t-shirt off her chest.   She left  
Trang panting heavily on the floor, and went into the second  
bedroom to retrieve her "bag of tricks."  She went back into  
Trang's bedroom and deposited the bag on the night-stand. 
        Trang was now standing up, holding her head,  
watching Morgan remove her bra and panties. 
        "You got one last chance,"  Morgan said, holding up  
her finger.  "Submit to me now, and I might keep you around  
as a toy for me and Gil." 
        Trang growled and rushed the whore, but Morgan  
was ready, and flipped her over onto the bed.  Again, Morgan  
pounced on top of Trang, this time their naked flesh meeting.   
Morgan forced Trang's arms down again and whispered into  
her ear. 
        "Sorry, pretty kitty.  You've lost.  Big time."   
Morgan wrapped her legs around Trang's, locking down her  
entire body on the bed. 
        "Nooooooo,"  Trang moaned, as Morgan rubbed  
against her vagina. 
        Morgan kissed Trang full on the lips.  "Relax.   
Submit to your Mistress."  And she kept kissing and kissing  
my darling, until her tongue started playing with Morgan's  
freely in return.  Then the whore released her lock down and  
Trang's hands started to caress her body freely with passion. 
 
 
When I had returned back home, the apartment was eerily  
dark and quiet.  Simultaneously afraid and hopeful, I walked  
hurriedly back to the master bedroom. 
        The light from the bathroom illuminated the figures  
in our bed.  Trang lay dozing, her head resting on top of  
Morgan's belly.  The auburn-haired whore was sitting up in  
bed, smoking a cigarette, the light reflecting eerily off her  
blue eyes. 
        "I just love my work,"  Morgan whispered, stubbing  
out the cig in the ashtray.  She purred with a satanic  
satisfaction.  Sliding Trang's body delicately off her own,  
Morgan walked over to me, unzipped my pants and pulled  
them off me. 
        "Let me tell you how I tamed your kitten..."   
Morgan whispered, touching my hard-on. 
        "Later,"  I whispered, yanking off my own shirt.  I  
bent Morgan over the dresser and started fucking her from  
the rear, where I could see Trang's chest heave softly as she  
slept. 
 
 
"Do you think she's left for good?"  I asked Morgan after we  
had eaten brunch the next day.  We had fucked one more time  
in the second bedroom and had fallen asleep. When we awoke  
around noon the next morning, Trang was not at home.   
"God, maybe she's just freaked out.  Maybe she hates me for  
setting her up." 
        "Naw,"  Morgan said, sliding the coffee table to the  
side of the living room, dressed in her bra and panties again.   
"She just needed to get away and figure out what she's gonna  
do next.  Finding you have bi-sexual tendencies is not easy for  
some people.  Trang, I figure, is just a bit strait-laced in the  
head." 
        "You think she can deal with it?" 
        "Oh, she will.   After Act Two."  She cleared more  
things out of the center of the living room. 
        "Wow.  You're so certain how Trang is going to  
react.  I don't even know." 
        "These are things,"  Morgan said, straddling my  
waist, "only a woman like me will know.  Every woman  
dreams of getting real dirty.  But few have such a boyfriend to  
seduce them into doing it!" 
        I started to fondle Morgan once again.  My hands  
played with breasts, butt, and massaged  her tiny waist.  I was  
sitting in my underwear, my hard-on protruding through the  
thin layer, making out with Morgan, when the door opened. 
        Trang stepped in, looking at us both harshly.  "I  
want this shit to stop right now."  She had been to the gym.   
She was wearing a black tank top and skin-tight biker shorts.   
The sweat still glistened off her tan chest and legs. 
        "I thought I explained this to you, last night,"   
Morgan stated, "that you are history.  Pack your bags, or I'll  
force feed you kitty litter!" 
        "Trang, don't listen to her,"  I started to say.  "The  
brownies were laced with pot--" 
        "Shut up!"  Morgan screeched, and slapped me hard  
across the face.  I must say I was surprised.  I didn't know  
that was in the script. 
        Trang through her bag down and grabbed Morgan's  
arm.  "You're leaving now!" 
        Morgan's right claw came whizzing through the air  
and grazed Trang's cheek.  I saw a red streak appear on her  
face.  Morgan stood up and pushed Trang away. 
        "Now, ladies--"  I said.  "Let's stop it.  Morgan, it's  
over." 
        "GIL, STAY THE FUCK OUT OF THIS!"  Trang  
screamed at me.  "I'm gonna kick her little butt." 
        "You wish,"  Morgan said, crouching and circling  
Trang.  "But soon you're going to be in my bed again.  And I  
won't be as nice as I was last night." 
        I saw the first signs of catlust in Trang's eyes as she  
watched Morgan move around the living room.  Trang  
reached out to grab Morgan's hair.  But the whore shifted to  
the side, grabbed Trang's arm and pulled it backward,  
flipping Trang over on the carpet. 
        Morgan giggled.  "C'mon, you dumb chink.  Get up.   
Show me how you'll kick my butt!" 
        Trang's wrists shot forward and grabbed Morgan's  
ankles.  She yanked and Morgan fell down on her butt.   
Trang crawled forward, but Morgan's legs encircled her  
chest.  Morgan pulled her legs back and brought Trang's  
head crashing into the television screen. 
        "Fuck!"  Trang yelled, as she went down on her  
hands and knees. 
        Morgan jumped on her back like an alley cat.  She  
wrapped her arms around Trang's neck and executed a full  
nelson.  She slammed Trang's head against the carpet.  It  
didn't bring up any blood, but it sure hurt like hell. 
        "Bitch!"  Trang exclaimed, as Morgan kept  
thumping her head against the floor.  Finally, Trang stopped  
it by bringing her hands against the floor.  Somersaulting  
forward, she sent Morgan flying through the air, landing on  
her butt, then Trang's body fell on top of hers.  Trang lifted  
her pelvis in the air and sent it crashing down hard into  
Morgan's cunt. 
        For the first time, Morgan groaned in pain.  Trang  
banged her butt again into Morgan's groin, but the whore  
locked my Chinese femizon's legs down with her own.  She  
clawed at Trang's forehead to make her lose focus. 
        "I'm gonna make you my slave, honey,"  Morgan  
whispered.  "For the rest of the weekend." 
        Trang roared and rolled over to her hands and knees.   
Morgan kept clawing and pressing her legs as Trang stood up  
and rammed the whore backward into the wall.  She let out a  
wail and released Trang, who elbowed her tit. 
        As Trang turned to face Morgan, the whore slapped  
Trang hard, on the cheek, whipping my darling's head  
around.  Almost as hard as a punch. 
        "Fucking slut!"  Morgan yelled, and slapped her  
hard again in the other direction. 
        Trang's hands grabbed Morgan's tits and squeezed  
them hard.  "Get the fuck out of my house!" 
        Morgan wailed then, helpless for a few seconds as  
Trang continued squeezing her breasts.  Morgan looked about  
to cry as her hands grabbed Trang's hair, pulling her head  
down, where it met Morgan's knee crashing up into her nose.   
Trang let go of Morgan and the two ladies stepped back from  
each other. 
        They each took several deep breaths, looking  
menacingly at each other.  Trang charged Morgan, but the  
whore got her with the arm-bend and flip again.  This time,  
Trang landed on her stomach.  Morgan sat down on Trang's  
butt, hooking one of Trang's legs under the other, and  
bending them backward.  Trang groaned as she felt the pain  
shoot through her calves. 
        "Give up, Trang,"  Morgan said.  "Or you'll never  
run again. 
        Trang grimaced and writhed on the floor.  She  
turned her chest slightly, and her right hand reached back  
and grabbed Morgan's hair.  She yanked, and Morgan's head  
came tumbling down, the leg twist now lost.  Morgan tried to  
get up, but Trang bounced her head on the carpet a few times  
for payback. 
        On her hands and knees, trying to stand up,  
Morgan's neck was pressed back against the ground as  
Trang's butt came crashing down upon it.  Trang grabbed  
Morgan's calves and bent the whore's legs backward,  
executing a sitting Boston-crab. 
        "Submit!"  Trang ordered, a touch of a smile now  
appearing on her face.  Needless to say, I was going crazy  
with lust, my penis now shooting out from my underwear.   
But, I couldn't help but feel anxious about how Trang would  
react afterward. 
        "No way!"  Morgan said, her voice muffled against  
the floor. 
        Trang pulled harder on the legs. 
        Morgan screamed.  "Okay!  Okay!  I give up!" 
        "And submit!" 
        "I submit!  I submit!" 
        Trang stood up from the whore's back and stretched  
her legs. 
        "Trang, baby, I'm so glad you won,"  I said, standing  
up and grabbing her shoulders.  "I gotta have some release,  
honey--" 
        "Shut the fuck up,"  Trang said.  "I hate you." 
        "It's not his fault..."  Morgan said, starting to get  
up. 
        "Liar!"  Trang shouted, grabbing Morgan by the  
hair, and dragged her to back to the master bedroom.  She  
took out a pair of handcuffs and attached them to the bedpost  
and Morgan's wrists. 
        "Please, Mistress,"  Morgan pleaded, her giant tits  
heaving up and down.  "Water.  Please let me have some  
water!" 
        Trang slapped the whore's tits.  "Silence!" 
        I was starting to get really worried now, and my hard  
on faded a bit.  "Trang, take it easy--" 
        "YOU GODDAMN BASTARD!"  Trang yelled,  
coming after me, her fists pounding my chest.  She drove me  
backward into the second bedroom.  "YOU FUCKING  
LOUSY GODDAMN LIAR!  YOU SET THIS WHOLE  
THING UP!"  She slapped me on my cheek, harder than  
Morgan hard, and I fell backward onto the bed like a sack of  
potatoes.  Trang fell on top of me, screaming like mad,  
clawing at my chest, until I reached out and grabbed her  
hands. 
        "Yeah, I fucking did set you up!"  I said to her.   
"AND YOU FUCKING LOVE IT!" 
        She kept screaming and writhing in my grasp. 
        "She's a whore from Seattle,"  I said.  "I paid her to  
come here, fuck you and fight you.  And look at how  
goddamn hot and horny you are!" 
        Trang stopped writhing around then, the madness  
fading from her eyes.  She looked at me harshly, but with less  
anger and more...catlust.  I let go of her hands. 
        She stripped off her athletic gear and kneeled over  
me.  I saw her toned body quivering with desire, if it was  
more for Morgan than for me, I didn't give a shit.  Trang  
stripped off my underwear and I touched her erect nipples.   
Her mouth engulfed mine and I tasted the sweetness that the  
Cat Scratch Fever had brought to her body.  I grabbed her ass  
and thrust myself into her quickly.   We had the best short  
fuck of our lives up to that point.   
        Two hours later, we woke up from our nap, when we  
heard Morgan calling us from the next room. 
        "I'll send her back tonight if you want,"  I promised  
Trang. 
        "No,"  she said, getting up from the bed.  "I'm not  
done with her yet."  Naked, Trang walked into the master  
bedroom.  The rest of the night was filled with their moaning  
catcalls as our first love orgy continued through the night.  
        In the morning, the Fever still raged in Trang's  
heart.  After breakfast, she found out how much I had paid for  
Morgan's services.   
        "Well, we better get your money's worth, then,"   
Trang said, stripping off her clothes once again and walking  
into the living room.  "When she gets out of the shower, tell  
her that I challenge her for a rematch.  And go get your video  
camera.  You may never see this again, Gil."  She began  
flexing and stretching her body as I raced down the hallway,  
the fire spreading into my loins again. 
        The whore fought my wildcat again, this time totally  
nude in the living room.  The outcome was different--Trang  
got her ass kicked hard.  Morgan was mad as hell about the  
previous day, script or no script.  The whore finished off my  
lover by punching her so hard in the cunt that it knocked my  
megababe off her feet and into a stuttering submission.  Not  
satisfied, Morgan the Mistress took Trang into the bedroom  
and showed her what power and control in the bedroom really  
was like for the first time.  She brought out all her tricks,  
dildos, vibrators, chains, and whips.  She fucked Trang over a  
period of three hours,  prolonging Trang's orgasm the entire  
time.  I joined them in bed and fucked Morgan and Trang in  
the ass, until my dick was red and raw and I could get it up  
no more.  At the end, Morgan mouthed Trang's climax while  
my darling lay on her stomach.  My lover's climax made her  
rattle the bars of the bedpost so violently that I thought she  
would wrench it from the bedframe.  Trang was so exhausted  
that she did not even know when the handcuffs had come off.   
But even though her eyes were dazed, as the sweat trickled  
down her brow, she heard Morgan's parting words before I  
took the whore to the airport. 
        "You did real good, kitty-cat.  Next time I see you, I  
might just take you on for free." 
 
 
We didn't make love again until the following weekend, after  
we had both recovered.  Even then, we were replaying the  
memories of Morgan in our minds to excite us.  By the next  
weekend, even though we both thought we could never  
experience such a thing again, we were restless. 
        "How am I going to do it, Gil?"  Trang asked me.   
"Should we move to Seattle?" 
        "No,"  I replied.  "There should be a way to find a  
woman like that here.  Isn't there a rumor that Linda is a  
lesbian?"  Linda was the primo buffed aerobics instructor at  
the gym who drove all the guys crazy. 
        "That's the story.  But how do we know she is  
single?  Or that she even likes me?" 
        "Well, I've seen her eyeing your ass a few times.  I  
don't think you should worry about that." 
        "So, what am I supposed to do?  Walk up to her and  
say, 'Hey, let me fight you, fuck your socks off, and let my  
boyfriend fuck us both in the ass.' " 
        We both laughed.  "No, silly.  Do it much more  
subtly.  Take her aerobics class.  Start to talk to her afterward,  
get to know her.  Start working out together.  Then, you  
know, just tease her about who is stronger than who.   
Challenge her to an arm wrestling match.  Maybe another day  
comes along when you're alone together.  That's when you  
make your move and wrestle her, for the fun of it." 
        "And you think she'll go along with it?"  Trang  
asked me. 
        "Hell, I would." 
        Over the next few weeks, Trang did exactly what I  
had planned, filling me in on the blonde's responses every  
step of the way.  It all worked as we planned, except with one  
hitch that came up later. 
        The culmination came when Trang and Linda were working  
out together on a Sunday when the gym was closing early.   
Trang convinced Linda to let them stay and workout alone in  
the club.  When they were in the stretching room with mats  
laid out on the floor, Trang made her move. 
        Linda took the bait and wrestled Trang.  She won  
that first time, and made Trang submit to her.  But instead of  
coming to our place, as I had planned, Linda took Trang to  
her own apartment and fucked my lover all night there. 
        I was worried beyond belief until I saw Trang come  
through the door.  All kinds of crazy thoughts had occurred to  
me.  Trang told me every little detail of the story, getting me  
hot and bothered until I fucked her on the kitchen table.   It  
wasn't quite the same as it had been with Morgan. 
        I could see something new appearing in Trang's  
eyes.  She was so aglow with the catfire coursing through her  
body.  She told me she had never felt so alive as she had  
wrestling Linda.  I began to really worry then--worry that  
someone like Linda could sway Trang away from me, and  
lock her into a lesbian lifestyle. 
        "Try to get her over here,"  I said. 
        "I'll try,"  Trang sighed.  "I don't know how much  
she'll like it." 
        The following Wednesday, Trang invited Linda over  
to our apartment.  Linda was quite openly contemptuous of  
me and my relationship with Trang. 
        "You're a lesbian,"  Linda said firmly to Trang,  
right in front of me.  "You're not really bi.  I can tell when  
we're alone together.  You just put up with it because you  
think you won't be such a bad girl if your 50-50." 
        "I'll prove it to you,"  Trang said, whipping off her  
skirt.  "I win, you sleep with me and Gil.  You'll see how  
much I love the both of you.  But if you win, I'll sleep with  
you alone in my bed, without him." 
        "You're on,"  Linda said, taking off her own clothes.   
"Hope your hand isn't arthritic, Gil-fish." 
        The two fought each other in our living room, this  
time with more at stake, raising the Fever a bit higher.  Trang  
managed to win, by the skin of her teeth, so to speak.  We  
took Linda to bed, and fucked her in all kinds of positions.   
She yelled and cursed at me when my dick was inside of her,  
but the fury just seemed to make her orgasm all the better.   
Linda began to put up with it grudgingly, but she never kissed  
me on the mouth or offered much affection. 
        I knew we could never win Linda completely over to  
bi-sexuality permanently.  So, in preparation for those  
occasions when Trang might lose, I installed a hidden video  
camera in the bedroom.  Sure enough, during the following  
weekend, Trang lost to Linda, but I had some of Linda's  
domination of my lover on tape to watch later. 
        "Isn't this--"  Linda grunted one time, pumping a  
dildo into Trang's vagina with her hips, "so much better than  
God-awful Gil?" 
        "Yes, Mistress,"  Trang moaned, "it's you.  You're  
the...uhhh....best!" 
        There were some occasions when I did not get them  
on tape.  Some weekends, Trang never came home at all.  I  
knew she must have fought Linda somewhere and lost. 
        The stakes got higher and higher as time went on.  It  
started out with them fighting for slavery, for a night, then a  
day, then a weekend, and later on, a week.  Most of the time,  
Linda won over Trang, having had a little more wrestling  
experience, though I never did learn from where.  It never  
deterred Trang, since she felt herself just getting better and  
better at fighting, and her sex life with both of us improved,  
too. 
        The worst part was, I could tell Trang was having  
deep feelings of love for Linda.  After she lost a fight, Trang  
was gone for ten days without so much as a phone message.  I  
finally put my foot down. 
        "Who do you love more?"  I demanded.  "Me, or  
her?  You'll have to decide now." 
        "I don't want to fucking choose!"  she shouted back. 
        "You'll have to.  Because Linda is going to force  
you.  Next time you fight, it'll be for a month.  Then it will be  
a year.  Maybe even a whole lifetime.  And then I might lose  
you forever." 
        "You won't,"  Trang said firmly.  "I won't allow it to  
go that far." 
        But it did, the very next week.  Linda challenged  
Trang to make a choice once and for all, and Trang chose me.   
Linda went berserk and attacked Trang, after the gym was  
closed.  They fought a bloody and vicious cat fight that left  
them both severely mauled, but Trang walked out of the club  
victoriously.  They never fought or made love again.  Linda  
moved out of Austin soon afterward. The last we heard from  
mutual friends, she was living in Maui with a Japanese  
wrestler. 
        I thought the Fever had burned itself out then, after  
that last fight with Linda that almost cost Trang her life.  I  
thought after losing each other, we could swear off this sexual  
addiction and get back to normal.  I even threw out all my  
videotapes and magazines to purge it all from our minds. 
        But the Cat Scratch Fever ran too violently through  
our minds and bodies.  It receded below the surface, waiting  
for our spirits to recover.  And when Trang stepped barefoot  
into Helen's backyard one summer day, it all came rushing  
back, stronger than ever before. 
 
So, you may wonder, my fellow droogies, who share my  
particular sexual fetish, why have I taken such pains to write  
this account of my life?  You think that I write these words to  
share my lustful life with you, to excite you, to move you to  
experiment with your wives and girlfriends, to experience  
such pleasures that you have always dreamed about? 
        That is not the case. 
        I have written all of this, with one purpose only.  To  
share with you all of my acts of self-destruction.  For, like  
with any addict, there is a line that you must not cross.  A  
boundary, that once passed, means that your addiction now  
takes control of you, and owns you until you can kick it.   
Most people do not kick such an addiction until they hit  
bottom. 
        Unfortunately, I crossed this line the minute Morgan  
the whore stepped into my Austin home.  I began to lose  
everything I loved from that moment on.  First, it was Helen.   
Then, it was Trang.  Later, my job and my finely decorated  
apartment, when I became a fugitive from the law.  I lost my  
integrity and self-respect when I became Tara's slave.  And I  
was violated in the worst way after Ina and Buri ganged up on  
me one day when Mistress Tara was absent. 
        I suppose those feminists reading this story will  
sense a sweet justice in my predicament.  Seeking to watch  
my woman dominate or be dominated, total servitude to  
women is now my destiny.  Seeking to sodomize other  
women, I now find myself sodomized by Amazons wearing  
strap-on dildos.  Seeking lustful pleasure in watching women  
fight for their lives, they are now about to have me fight for  
my life against another man.  I do not believe I have the  
strength or skill to win.  But they will enjoy it anyway, in the  
same way that I used to take pleasure in Trang's losses. 
        So, I write these words to you, posting them on  
alt.sex.fetish.wrestling, with the little time granted to me  
before I lose my life.  I know I will eventually, when I stop  
being useful or amusing to Tara and her Dirty Pair.  I have  
tried to run away a few times, only to have them catch and  
beat me.  Now, even when I sleep, I am chained up to a  
bedpost.  I know that this is the bottom, that I can't fall any  
lower than this pit that I am in. 
        I pray to God nightly, crucified upon a bedpost, that  
Trang might be able to come to my rescue one day soon. 
 
 
 
You see, my droogies, the problems with the Dirty Pair went  
into overdrive right when I tried to outsmart them into having  
sex with me.  You may be familiar with the old saying, "Live  
by the sword, Die by the sword"?  It was such in my case. 
        Fucking Ina in the mat room during Tara's total  
domination of Buri only whetted my appetite for more sex  
with the Amazon.  Looking back on it, I should have made a  
break for it right after that happened.  The unholy trio of  
catfighters became obsessed with each other in the bedroom,  
spending all night licking, scratching, and caressing each  
other.  Their catcalls kept me awake even though I slept in  
another room.  Even though I wanted to join them, and Tara  
still loved my cock, I was having to complete with Ina and  
Buri for her attention.  Tara was so fucked out by her nightly  
silicone sandwich of femizonian flesh, that she wasn't very  
forceful when it came to ordering them to screw me.  Buri  
hated me even more than Ina had, and together, their will  
solidified their cunts closed to my cock.   
        When Tara wasn't around, Ina and Buri were  
inseparable, and had almost no use for me, other than to cook  
and clean for them.  I still handled the business end of things  
at this point, but Buri questioned my actions constantly, and  
started to take part of this responsibility away from me.   
        I still felt that I had some connection with Ina, after  
our last time together.  And she was another sexual fantasy  
fuck that had been actualized for me, only to be yanked away.   
More the anything, the quest of conquering her kept me in  
that house.  The blackmail was my own petty excuse to  
forgive my guilt over the thought of Trang in a Mexican  
prison.   
        I tried to analyze what it would take to make Ina feel  
lustful towards me once more.  As I watched them wrestle  
together in the downstairs room, as a prelude to their  
lovemaking, I received my inspiration.  Why not challenge  
her to a fight, the loser gets the other in bed?  Figuring this to  
be the only factor that might get Ina excited with a man, I  
gambled that I might be having sex, either win or lose.  I  
worked out diligently for two weeks before I approached the  
blonde. 
        "You must be joking!"  Ina exclaimed, laughing. 
        "Well, I do outweigh you by 50 pounds,"  I replied.   
"What's the matter?  You afraid?" 
        "Take him, Ina,"  Buri hissed, eyes glittering with  
contempt for me. 
        Oh, how foolish and na<ve I was.  And especially  
stupid to try it without Tara around. 
        I started out fighting her in my briefs, my cock  
expanding through the cloth.  One minute later, the hard-on  
was ebbing, as Ina had me totally pinned.   Showing mercy,  
she gave me a second chance.  I did the best that time--lasted  
for five whole blasted minutes before she made me submit.   
Buri goaded Ina on and on, to give me a third and a fourth  
try, each time bending my bones to the point of a break.   
        Finally, after 20 minutes of wrestling, I could take  
no more, and cried out to Ina:  "Please!  Mistress Ina, I totally  
surrender!  I am yours!" 
        Ina let me unravel against the mat.  The blue surface  
felt so cool against my body and face.  I never dreamed that  
wrestling her would be so tough.   
        The two hellcats erupted in laughter.  "Mistress Ina!   
I like the sound of that!" 
        "Let's fuck his brains out!"  Buri exclaimed, running  
out of the room. 
        Ina removed her underwear and my own, and dived  
on top of my naked body.  I remember getting instantly rigid  
as her firmly rounded breasts slid up my sweaty stomach. 
        "I've wanted to do this to you,"  Ina whispered, in- 
between soft kisses, "ever since Tara allowed you to take me  
in the ass!"  She pressed my hands tightly against the floor,  
even though I was weaker than a kitten, and could not have  
possibly fought back. 
        On the contrary.  I was loving it far too much.   
Especially when Ina started to rub her vagina against my cock  
and ordered me to kiss her big titties. 
        "Take me, mistress!"  I said, playing the gig for all it  
was worth. 
        "Oh, don't worry, big boy,"  Buri said, walking back  
into the room.  "She'll take you for all you've got.  Flip him  
over, baby." 
        Ina gripped my shoulders, and we rolled over  
together.  She fitted my cock into her vagina and soon I was  
pumping her, in the classic missionary position.  I heard Ina  
groan with pleasure and look over her shoulder. 
        This is it, bitch,  I thought.  I've finally outsmarted  
you. 
        Then I felt the pain in my ass and I yelled. 
        Buri was boring into my butt-hole with a strap-on  
dildo from behind. 
        I tried to get away, but Buri's claws dug into my  
back and pushed me down flat on top of Ina.  Ina gripped my  
arms and clamped her legs around my own.  Buri thrust the  
dildo inside me again, harder, and laughed. 
        "C'mon, lover!  Push it!" 
        Ina kissed me excitedly.  "Thrust, you dick-headed  
jerk!  Thrust!  Keep thrusting, or we'll make it even worse." 
        The pain was unbelievable.  They had used no  
lubrication whatsoever, not that it would have been more  
pleasurable even with that.  But my asshole became a red and  
bloody raw mess. 
        My erection did not die down.  I thrust into Ina,  
following the movement of Buri's hips. 
        "More!"  Buri commanded, gripping a headful of my  
hair.  She pulled my head back and bit my ear.  "Deeper,  
fuck-head!"  Her pelvis thrusted deep into my asshole, and  
my cock followed likewise into Ina.   
        I screamed, in agonizing pain.   
        Ina screamed, in orgasm. 
        Buri screamed and laughed, her humiliation of me  
complete.  Finished, the dark haired amazon threw me to the  
side, like a discarded tampax wrapper.  She lunged on top of  
Ina and the two started kissing and fondling. 
        My ass on fire, I laid on the mat, gulping in air, tears  
running down my face.  The pain.  How could Trang ever  
have stood so much pain? 
        I limped upstairs, to my room, and took a shower.   
The water seared my ass and stopped the bleeding a bit.   
Loading up my butt with salve, I popped 6 aspirins in my  
mouth, put on my clothes, and fled out the window. 
        Blackmail or no blackmail, it was time to leave these  
bitches.  I had the Fever fucked cold right out of me. 
 
 
At the bar of the Stardust Hotel, I slung alcohol down my  
throat in attempt to numb the pain out of my mind.  Pressing  
a cold, sweating glass against my forehead, I prayed to God  
and promised to be a good boy if I could just get out of the  
mess I was in. 
        "You don't look so good, pal,"  A man sat down next  
to me and touched my shoulder. 
        I ran my hand over my face and looked at him.  He  
was a chubby, balding guy in an expensive suit.  "I've had a  
rough day." 
        "Anything I can help you with?" 
        I laughed in my drink then.  What is it?  I wondered.   
You get fucked in the ass and suddenly all the fags want a  
piece of you.  "I don't think so." 
        "Dan Bonapart."  He stuck out his hand to me.   
"And you are..." 
        I looked at his hand for a moment and shook it.   
What the hell.  "I'm Gil Versace." 
        "Not related to the clothing store, I take it." 
        I couldn't laugh.  I had heard that one too many  
times.  "Look, I'm a bit bummed out right now." 
        "I can see that.  But I have been looking for you for a  
while now.  I'm a friend of Mr. Lustiricci's.  He asked me to  
give you this." 
        He pulled out a thin and tattered blue piece of paper  
and laid it down beside my glass.  I stared at it for a minute,  
blinking my eyes.  I held it in my hand and saw that it was an  
envelope-letter, the type you often receive from foreign  
countries.  It was addressed to me, in care of Mr. Lustiricci,  
on the front. 
        The handwriting belonged to Trang. 
        "I'm real sorry about what happened to your girl,  
pal.  Mr. Lustiricci sends his condolences, too.  I want to  
assure you that this letter was read by only two people--Mr.  
Lustiricci and myself.  We had a bit of trouble finding you at  
first.  We've been looking ever since one of our kickboxers  
was killed in New Orleans four months ago." 
        "I know what happened.  This monster Filipina  
called Tara killed her.  If you want her--" 
        "Oh, we know where she lives.  We know where all  
the great cats live."  Bonapart sipped a gin and tonic that had  
been placed in front of him.  "We'll take out Tara one day  
with one of our own.  When we can make a profit from it." 
        "A profit?"  I started to get angry.  "You're going to  
wait to kill this bitch until the--"  I stopped then.  "Trang.   
You're going to have Trang take her out.  In your own  
arena." 
        "Not quite.  I'm afraid I can't tell you what we have  
got planned."  He took something else out of his inner jacket  
pocket.  A videocassette.  "But this will show you something  
of what Trang has gone through recently.  Make sure you  
read the letter first." 
        He put his hand on my shoulder as he got up to  
leave, and stuck a business card in my shirt pocket. 
        "You might be seeing me again,"  Bonapart said,  
and left. 
        I ordered another drink and tore open the letter. 
 
 
Mr. Lustiricci-- 
 
Please help me to get this letter to Gil.  I have no idea where  
he and Tara have fled to.  If you can do me this favor,  
perhaps I can repay you with a fight somewhere down the  
road. 
 
Best, 
Trang 
 
 
Gil, 
 
You son of a bitch.  I am laying on a dingy cot in a Mexican  
prison right now--where the hell are you?  Fucking Tara in  
her fat ass and getting off on it?  You know how bad prison is  
down here, asshole?  Take about every prison movie you've  
ever seen and make it ten times worse.  I've had to fight for  
my life here from the very beginning.  I've woken up to find  
rats running around my bunk.  I've fought off male rapists.  I  
have lice in my hair and suffer from malnutrition. 
        You're probably living it up real cushy with Tara.   
You put me here.  I hate you. 
        I want you to know how bad it is.  I want you to  
suffer for what I am going through. 
        The Mexican police don't believe I killed Tara,  
funny enough.  But they think I was some kind of accomplice  
to the crime.  After a week in a Cancun prison, they  
transferred me to this larger women's penitentiary, where-- 
ha!--I am waiting for the trial.  Which might happen just  
after the year 2000. 
        I walked down the hall to my cell that first day,  
listening to all the catcalls in Spanish.  I don't have to speak  
the language to know they are all hungry for a fresh piece of  
meat.  Especially if it's foreign and exotic.  They put me in a  
cell with a dark-skinned brute named Xuxa.  Xuxa is about  
30, looks almost 40, only comes up to my chin, but outweighs  
me by about twenty-five pounds.  When I walked into her  
cell, she spouted a whole bunch of garbage in Spanish at me  
and just pointed to my bunk.  After that, she just sat down  
and glared at me the rest of the day. 
        When the lights went out at night, Xuxa made her  
move on me.  While I was washing my face, Xuxa thought  
this would be a good time to smash my head into the mirror.   
Except that I was ready for the bitch.  I had braced myself  
against the sink and kicked back with my foot, jabbing her  
hard in the ribs.  I could see what remained of her smile as I  
turned to face her in the dim cell.  Xuxa thought I might give  
her a good challenge. 
        I didn't fool around.  I smacked her hard in the  
mouth, to the left, and then the right, throwing her head back  
in-between the bars of the cell.  I reached through the bars,  
grabbed her hair, and rattled her head between the metal  
posts like a ping-pong ball.  I stepped back and watched her  
pull her head out of the cage dizzily. 
        "Submit, bitch!"  I commanded, my hands on my  
hips. 
        Xuxa roared and charged me.  I leapt upwards and  
encircled her throat with my thighs, and brought her crashing  
down to the hard floor.  Xuxa groaned as I heard her throat  
crush against the hard prison floor.  I boston-crabbed Xuxa's  
legs backward as I sat on her shoulders, until she learned the  
meaning of submission. 
        Then I fucked Xuxa real hard and kept her as my  
bitch from the point onward.  She became a pretty good  
watchdog for me.  Too good, in fact. 
        Following that, there were almost daily fights in the  
yard or the laundry room.  Most of them boring stuff, women  
I took out in three hard punches or less.  I developed a rep  
very fast, and some of the women began to admire and respect  
my talents. 
        I suppose that was when Mina got word that I was  
out for her turf.  Mina was a lighter-skinned Mexican, about  
5'3", medium sized breasts, toned legs, and wiry arms.   
Physically, she didn't look as tough as someone as I did, but  
when I locked onto her eyes, the exchange of catlust was  
immediate.  I knew this lady was tough and unpredictable.  I  
instantly wanted to fight and win her in my bed. 
        Mina shoved me in the line for dinner one night, and  
I fell onto the floor. 
        "I'm coming for you, chica!"  Mina whispered into  
my ear, and punched my kidney. "Tomorrow, bitch!"  She  
yelled as the guards pulled her off my body. 
        I assumed the attack was going to come in the yard  
the next day.  But it happened in the morning.  Xuxa watched  
my back, as I soaped myself clean in the shower.  Xuxa  
tapped my shoulder, and I turned around.  Mina stood across  
from me, naked, her erect nipples jutting out of her long, wet,  
brown hair.  Her eyes radiated catfury towards me.  An  
audience of a couple dozen naked prisoners lined the square  
shower room.  Someone must have bribed the guards, because  
I couldn't see any past the doorway.  They kept the showering  
heads running water so that it would block out the sounds of  
the fight. 
        I felt a chill go through my spine as I saw what was  
in Mina's hand.  A small switchblade, length of about three  
inches. 
        Remembering my Cat Cult training, I turned the  
passive fear into angry power.   I crouched, and began to  
circle Mina, with my forearms held out to protect myself. 
        "Gonna gut you, chink!"  Mina hissed.  She spoke  
English very well.  I knew she had to be a Mexican- 
American.  "Gonna cut that tigress tattoo right off your butt  
and hang it on my wall!"  Mina slashed the knife at me with  
her right hand, and I kept evading it as fast as I could.  "It's  
gonna be so sweet!" 
        Mina jabbed the knife at my throat and I blocked it  
with my left forearm.  I'll never, so long as I live, forget what  
happened next. 
        Mina jumped up and executed a flying spin kick.   
Her foot came whizzing a breath away from my nose, as I  
leaned backward just in time. 
        But there was a water trail from her foot.  The water  
smacked me hard in the eyes, blinding me for a few seconds. 
        It was the opening Mina must have waited for.   
Little, shower fighting bitch! 
        She hugged her left hand around my waist and  
squeezed my bun.  Then Mina jabbed the switchblade into the  
back of my left thigh, right below the ass.  I screamed like  
bloody hell. 
        Mina rubbed her cunt up against mine, and said:   
"Now you're mine, chica!"  And she bit my left tit like she  
was a lioness eating raw meat. 
        I stumbled forward, tripping, and I fell on top of  
Mina on the wet shower floor.  I reached backward to pull out  
the knife. 
        "No, chica!"  Mina shouted, shoving the knife down  
harder, and twisted it.  "You ain't going no where!" 
        The pain, Gil.  I thought I was going to die!  Or  
going to lose my leg forever.  I was so afraid at that moment,  
as I saw Mina's face laughing at me.  She thought I was  
finished.  But I let the pain she gave me drive me onward!  I  
roared, at her, at you, at Tara, at every fucking thought and  
person that led me to that shower, and grabbed Mina's wrist,  
wrenching the knife out of my ragged leg.  I wrenched Mina's  
hand so hard, the knife went spinning on the floor.  Xuxa  
dove for it and wrested it out of the grip of the other women. 
        My hands locked with Mina's as we wrestled for  
control on the shower floor.  Her body was so alive, so  
electric, fighting and wrapping itself around mine, as I  
struggled to use my weight against her.  You know how sick  
you made me, Gil?  Catlust was still uppermost on my mind  
as I grapple with Mina for my life!  She bit into my throat  
with her jaws.  It took me by surprise, allowing Mina to flip  
me over on my back.  Cold water from a shower head  
spattered against my forehead as she pressed my arms flat  
against the floor.  I could feel her teeth tearing into my skin  
and drawing blood.  My adrenaline roared again, as I quickly  
got on my hands and knees, and rammed Mina's back into  
the shower wall.  Three times, even knocking her head into  
the wall, and still that bitch refused to release her jaw!  I  
punched Mina's tits and her cunt, and she finally released her  
biting.  I quickly stood up and raised Mina's stunned body  
above my head.  I rammed the small of her back into my knee  
in a smooth back-breaker move.  I don't know how I managed  
it with my wound, but hearing Mina's silent cry as her spine  
hit my bone was almost enough payback for the wound. 
        The little mexican catfighter was then like a rag doll  
in my arms.  I wasn't going to let this moment pass by, Gil,  
not after so foolishly giving Tara an opportunity to beat me.  I  
am never, ever going to make that mistake in my life again!  I  
hauled Mina up over my shoulders again, and threw her with  
all my might down to the other side of the shower room.   
Mina's body smashed hard against the wall, and I could see  
her shivering from the impact as her body hit the tiled  
ground. 
        I started to walk over to Mina to make her formally  
submit, but my leg moved slowly.  I looked back and saw a  
slow river of blood leaking out.  Half the shower floor was  
now pink as my blood mixed with the water.  I sank to my  
knees, suddenly exhausted. 
        I heard a scream and looked up, fearing that Mina  
was attacking me again.  But it was not Mina.  It was Xuxa. 
        Xuxa leapt upon Mina's naked body, and jabbed the  
switchblade a half a dozen times.  Mina screamed also, her  
hands trying to stop Xuxa, but her blood kept flying out from  
her chest and smacking into Xuxa's face. 
        "Cheating whore..."  Mina whispered, right before  
she died. 
        Xuxa stood up and washed the blood off her body as  
her fellow inmates circled around Mina's body. 
        "Fucking chica!"  I yelled at Xuxa.  "Stupid, dumb,  
Mexican, bi--" 
        Her foot smashed my jaw and my body whipped  
around on the floor.  Xuxa stood over me and smashed my  
head again twice with her foot.  I passed out from the stress  
and the shock. 
        When I awoke in the prison infirmary, as poor as it  
was, somehow I was stitched up enough to stop the bleeding  
and given enough pain killers to make life bearable.  I slept  
for a day until the Warden came to see me.  He told me he  
would add Mina's murder to my sentence unless I became his  
mistress. 
        I told him that if I ever had his dick in my mouth, I  
would make him look like an gringo called Bobbitt.  The  
Warden smiled anyway. 
        They let me stay in the infirmary for two weeks.  I  
figured out that Xuxa must have set up the whole goddamned  
thing.  Xuxa had paid me back for my humiliation of her, had  
gotten her rival Mina out of the way, and had removed me as  
part of the same fight.  What a cunning and dishonorable  
little bitch!  I plan to her back for this one day. 
        At the end of my infirmary stay, the Warden came  
back to see me. 
        "I'm not ever fucking you,"  I warned him.  "So  
don't waste your breath." 
        The Warden laughed again.  "No tanks, I don't come  
for fack, senorita!  I came to tell you thees...I am gonna let  
you outta pree-son day after tomor-row!" 
        I couldn't believe he was serious.  "This is a fucking  
sick joke." 
        "No joke, chica.  You see, some very POWER-ful  
people have heard of your repu-shay-shion.  Heard about the  
Chinese cat-woman, the sexy chica who KEELded two  
women since she came to Mehico.  People come to Mehico  
Cee-tee, pay beeg money to see you, in bull-fight aree-na.    
Fight another bitch to death!" 
        "I won't fight anyone unless I get my freedom in  
return." 
        "Oh, senorita,"  the Warden said, laughing.  "You  
get freedom.  You win, go free.  Lose, doesn't matter, 'cause  
you'll be dead.  Thees bitch you're fighting, she has keelded  
many before." 
        My body started to tingle with the anticipation of  
such a fight.  Perhaps foolishly, since my leg is still tender  
and inflexible, even as I write this.  "And who is  
this...bitch?" 
        "Thees ees the best part,"  the Warden said, now the  
guards accompanying him were slapping their knees in  
laughter, too.  The Warden wiped away some tears from his  
face.  "The chica you killed.  Een the shower.  Her sister ees  
Who-lia Montoya!" 
        I shrugged.  "Never heard of her." 
        "Who-lia, Julia, Montoya ees better known een your  
kon-try as...El Matadora!" 
        A streak of fear ran through my heart, which hasn't  
even fully stopped now.  Julia Montoya is the Mexican fuck  
fighter that Helen had faced a few times.  Someone who had  
shit-kicked her can once, and would probably be a tough  
challenge for me, even when I am perfectly healthy. 
        "Rest up, senorita,"  the Warden said, laughing and  
pinching my cheek.  "I geeve you plenty of food and drink  
unteel the fight.  Gym ees yours for training.  Fight good!   
Because, eef you can last for fifteen minutes before Matadora  
slay you, I win beeeeeeeeeg!" 
        I don't know if I hate any man more than the  
Warden, Gil, except for you.  I am going to find him one day  
and shove his dick down his throat, followed by the money he  
wins on me. 
        So that's what has happened to me, Gil.  It's  
morning now, and I will fight El Matadora tonight at  
midnight.  I've trained in the puny room they call a gym,  
which couldn't even make Kathie Lee Gifford work up a  
sweat.  I've used it to discover my limitations.  My mobility is  
shot to hell.  I can stand on my wounded leg for a few good  
kicks, but better forget about running or leaping.  I can still  
squeeze with my thighs and choke the bitch if I am lucky  
enough to trap her.  I've still got my punching power, thank  
god.  Only the Cat Goddess knows if this is enough to help  
me withstand El Matadora's incredible fury.  She sounds like  
she's a mean bitch on a normal day.  Maybe I can convince  
her that I didn't kill her sister, Mina.  Yeah, and maybe Tara  
will understand the Theory of Relativity soon. 
        I don't know how I am going to get out of this, Gil.   
But I am going to get out of Mexico one way or another.  I am  
going to survive, because I am going to be thinking about you  
and Tara.  About how Tara's body is going to look when I  
break her back over my knee.  And then how you are going to  
look, once I catch you in my claws and show you my  
contempt for weakness and treachery.  I've had a lot of time  
here to think about you, Gil.  What a rat you are!  Do you  
know what Cats do to rats? 
        Was it worth it, Gil?  Bringing Morgan into our  
home?  Showing me how to seduce and fight Linda?   
Encouraging me to fight Helen?  Taking me to the  
Philippines and hoping that Tara would pound the shit of me  
for a fuck fetish?  Oh, it was part of my nature, you will say.   
You only brought to the surface what was already there, you  
will think, excusing yourself in your little fuck-pad with that  
Filipina bar-girl.  But there are ugly parts in everyone that are  
better left buried. 
        I want you to think about that.  Was it worth it?  Ask  
yourself that when you see me in person next. 
        When you see the Cat that you have let out of the  
bag. 
 
Trang 
 
 
I clenched Trang's letter in my hand in an effort to destroy it.   
But the strength had left my body upon reading her words.  It  
might has well have been a solid steel bar. 
        My heart felt like it had fallen to the floor.  Oh, God,  
what have I done to Trang?  I thought.  What did I do to the  
sweet, uncomplicated woman that I had met in the gym, who  
nothing more than to love me?  To love me without any kinky  
fetishes.  I should never have hired Morgan to claw the Fever  
into her body.  It had ruined the both of us. 
        It seemed like there was little hope of my seeing her  
again at that point.  She might not have survived the fight  
with Matadora.  Bonapart had given me no indication that  
she had.  He had given me nothing... 
        ...but the tape laying on the bar counter.  Of course,  
the tape had the recording of the fight in the arena in Mexico  
City! 
        My only dim hope of seeing Trang again lay in the  
promise of her pounding the shit out of that Mexican hellcat.   
I could only pray that with time, her feelings towards me  
would soften and change, as they had in the past after a  
terrible fight.  Plus, having Trang take out Tara would be the  
only way I could be finally free of the Filipina and her Dirty  
Pair. 
        Stuffing the tape and the letter in my jacket pocket, I  
left the bar at the Stardust.  Checking with the clerk in the  
lobby, I found no available rooms with VCRs in them.  I  
wandered out into downtown Vegas, searching for another  
cheap hotel room with a VCR, but came up short at the first  
three I tried. 
        I stopped at a market to grab some coffee.  I was  
losing energy from being butt-fucked and half-drunk.  I  
sipped the cheap coffee in the mini-mart, and my eyes  
wandered over the newspapers near the counter.  One of the  
headlines on the front page of the National Inquirer caught  
my eye:
 
HOLLYWOOD CATFIGHT ON MEDITERREANAN ISLAND!  See Page 22.
 
        The Fever hadn't left my brain entirely, I suppose.  I  
saw some blurb about Victoria Sensible fighting Raquel  
Walsh, and knew I had to have that issue.  No matter how  
faked it was.  I had to piss too bad to read the rag right then,  
so I threw a couple of dollars at the clerk and took off with  
the Enquirer in my hand.  I still wasn't sure if I wasn't just so  
worn out that I was seeing catfighters everywhere.  I walked  
dizzily down the street and waited for what seemed like  
forever for a stop light to turn green. 
        Just as it did, I felt my throat constricted by a pincer  
grip, complete with long day-glo pink fingernails. 
        "Gil, you stupid." 
        I didn't have to turn my head to know it was Tara.  I  
started to cry out for help, but she butted my head into the  
lamppost.  It was late at night and no other pedestrians were  
on the street.  My legs went limp as I held my head, but Tara  
lifted me off my feet with one hand. 
        "Fool!  You belong to Tara forever.  Think I let you  
go?"  The minivan we had bought a month ago screeched to a  
halt to the side of us.  Ina was driving.  The side door was  
already open, with Buri holding the handle.  "Now Tara must  
punish you, like dog!"  The Filipina thrust me into the van  
like a sack of potatoes. 
        I landed hard on the seat.  I heard the door slam  
shut, and saw the auburn haired butt fucker's smirking face in  
front of me. 
        "Lights out, lover-boy!"  Buri exclaimed, cocking  
back her right arm. 
        After her fist had broken my nose, I vomited onto the  
carpet, and fainted. 
 
That was how I came to be chained up to the bed in my room,  
for a week after Tara and the Dirty Pair had recaptured me.   
They had allowed me enough slack to reach my computer,  
where I was able to type up the first part of my story and send  
it to you, my fellow droogies, on alt.sex.fetish.wrestling.  But  
alas, in a world full of false identities and forged stories, I'm  
afraid none of you could take me seriously enough to get me  
help in time. 
        At night, my hands would be securely cuffed to the  
bed post.  My legs were anchored as well.  Crucified on  
the bed rails, I felt like Jesus with the Fever, sleeping that  
way for seven nights.   My neck  
developed a severe cramp when I was awake and unbound.   
Tara put me to work around the house, cleaning, cooking (I  
had to taste my own food in front of her to demonstrate it  
wasn't poisoned), and taking care of minor business affairs  
from my computer.  I was watched constantly, and always  
secured in my room whenever they were gone or making love  
in the master bedroom. 
        They had found everything I had on me from that  
night I tried to get away.  Tara had read the letter from Trang  
and accused me of plotting against her with Lustiricci's help.   
The Filipina pinched, slapped, and beat me to derive a  
confession.  She even loosed Buri the buttfucker on me.   
When no guilty confession was forthcoming, Tara gave up all  
of her tortures, save one. 
        Every night, Tara, Ina, and Buri would walk into my  
room and lay upon my bed, naked.  Then they would pop in  
that tape, that awful tape, where Trang fought Matadora. 
        "Lay naked upon my butt,"  Tara commanded.   
"Maybe this time, dick dance for Tara!" 
        "This tape makes me sooooooo horny,"  Buri hissed,  
hugging Ina's back against her stomach. 
        "I wanted to fight Trang one day,"  Ina moaned.  "I  
wanted to make her my slave!" 
        "You'll have to fight me for her first,"  Buri said,  
pinching Ina's nipples. 
        "I take Matadora.  Already beat Trang.  Hah!"  Tara  
laughed. 
        I tried to turn my head away from the tape as it  
started to play.  Ina grabbed my hair and pulled my head up. 
        "You watch, slave!"  Tara commanded, clawing at  
my butt. 
        And so every event on the tape became etched in my  
mind... 
 
The venue had changed to a bar in Mexico City.  The bar was  
two stories tall, with an upper balcony that surrounded the  
main dance floor.  Every space, on both floors, save for the  
dancing area, was occupied by men.  Mostly Mexican, there  
were a fair number of Americans, and some Asian  
businessmen as well.  Musky smoke permeated the  
atmosphere so much, you'd have thought Ridley Scott had  
made the video.  The men drank and shouted out bets at each  
other, while the two fighters circled each other. 
        Trang was dressed in a black one-piece swimsuit.   
Her long hair was tied up in a bun, and a bandage was  
wrapped around her left thigh were the knife wound had  
occurred.  She was in a crouched position, moving around the  
floor carefully in her bare feet, looking at her opponent.  The  
tigress tattoo on her butt was available for all the crooning  
men to see. 
        Matadora's eyes glared at Trang.  I could sense both  
a powerful mixture of catfury and catlust in her expression.   
A light blue bandanna covered her forehead, sweeping her  
long dark brown out of the way.  She circled barefoot around  
Trang in a red one-piece swimsuit, her trademark costume  
from her S.O.W. days.  A rose, smothered with thorns,  
appeared on her left forearm.  The Mexican's hands were  
protected by weightlifting gloves, the kind that allows the  
fingers to protrude.  She was three inches shorter than Trang,  
but every bit as sexy, muscular, and tough. 
        "I'll spread your ashes on my sister's grave, chica!"   
Matadora shouted, her face exploding with anger. 
        Trang looked at her grimly.  "I didn't kill your sister.   
But I'll kill you if I have to!" 
        "Lying bitch!"  Matadora screamed, and rushed  
forward at Trang. 
        The Mexican reached out for Trang's arm, but my  
lover darted away quickly.  Matadora fired off a volley of  
punches at Trang, none of them connecting.  Trang fired off  
some blows of her own, as the two catfighters gauged each  
other's abilities.  Matadora's speed was lightning fast, much  
faster than Trang, even when she was at her best.  After  
Matadora's fist finally connected with Trang's chest, the  
Mexican leapt up in the air and executed a flying spin kick.   
Saliva and sweat flew from Trang's head as she fell down on  
her back. 
        Trang wasn't stunned for long.  Her good leg swept  
the floor, and Matadora went crashing down on her own  
wallet.  Trang grabbed Matadora's ankles and sat on her  
chest.  Matadora was pinned beneath Trang, the Mexican's  
feet almost curled backward towards her own shoulders. 
        "Listen to me!"  Trang shouted, as Matadora  
struggled wildly beneath her.  "I didn't kill your sister!   
Xuxa--uuhhh!" 
        Matadora's fists were pummelling Trang's kidneys.   
"Shut the fuck up!  Liar!  Pig!"  Matadora's feet tore away  
from Trang's hands, and came crashing into Trang's ears.   
Matadora's feet slammed into Trang's earlobes  
simultaneously, three hard times in a row.  Then the Mexican  
wrapped her legs around Trang's shoulders, and slammed the  
Chinese femizon's face crashing down to the floor. 
        The Mexican hellcat quickly sat up and straddled  
Trang's back.  She grabbed hold of Trang's hair, pulling my  
lover's head upward.  "I'm gonna finish the job sis started!"   
Matadora yelled, and her hand squeezed Trang's bandaged  
thigh. 
        Trang screamed and the crowd went wild.  The men  
were jumping over each other for a better view.  They smelled  
a death coming. 
        The Chinese catfighter got up on her knees, crying  
through the pain.  She somersaulted forward,and Matadora  
went flying through the air.  The Mexican leapt to her feet  
like the great Cat her reputation had put forward.  Trang held  
her leg with her hand as the Mexican circled her again.   
Sensing an easy kill, Matadora raced forward once again.   
Trang stopped Matadora's attack with a great punch from her  
right fist.  She followed that with a left punch to Matadora's  
head.  Another blow followed, and I could see a mixture of  
saliva, snot, and blood erupt from Matadora's nose and  
mouth. 
        Then, probably by reflex, Trang pulled a dumb  
move.  Standing on her injured leg, Trang shifted her weight  
on it and kicked upward, fast and hard.  Matadora went flying  
backward and landed on her head.  It would have been a great  
time for Trang to move in for the kill.  But her leg buckled  
from under her, and Trang fell on the floor, gripping her  
thigh and crying out in pain. 
        If Trang was fully healthy, this could have been her  
easiest victory.  Matadora was laying on the ground, holding  
her head for a full thirty seconds.  But Trang spent the same  
amount of time massaging her leg.  By the time she got onto  
her knees and crawled over to Matadora, the Mexican was  
crawling on the ground as well. 
        Each woman was on their knees, as their hands  
locked in a battle of strength.  Trang pressed her weight  
against the Mexican, and the smaller woman's back arched  
backward.  The sweat glistened off their foreheads as they  
grimaced at each other. 
        "Your sister was killed by Xuxa!"  Trang shouted,  
pressing Matadora backward. 
        As the Mexican's back slumped down on the floor,  
her legs quickly wrapped around Trang's midsection and  
squeezed.  These were the legs, that Helen had once  
described, as being strong as a mule.  Trang groaned as her  
opponent squeezed and poured on the pressure.  Their hands  
were still grappling with each other. 
        "Liar!  Xuxa was her friend!  She has more honor  
than a chink bitch like you...uuuhhh...who kills over the hill  
catfighters in bed while they fuck!" 
        Helen!  Somehow, Matadora had heard about Helen.   
Well, hell, the police had to have told her. 
        Trang's legs flailed on the ground, trying to get her  
body away from the Mexican, but the little bitch had her all  
locked up.  I could see Trang's face grimace in pain as  
Matadora crushed her ribs.  I was sure they must have been  
bruised or cracked.  Worse, I could see Matadora's fingernails  
biting into the back of Trang's hands as the grappled, causing  
trickles of blood to pour down her arms.  Trang lost focus and  
Matadora pressed her hands flat against the floor. 
        Matadora's hand flashed backward, turned into a  
fist, and smashed Trang in the face, once, twice, again and  
again, till she had pummeled my lover's face with lightning  
blows a half a dozen times.  Blood was spattering all around. 
        The men in the audience were going crazy.   
Animals!  I hadn't been any better.  But as I watched the tape  
laying on top of Tara's mightly buttocks, that night, and  
every night we watched it, my dick remained flacid.  The  
Filipina moved her buns beneath me, already lathered up with  
lotion and ready for a butt-fuck.  Ina even touched by balls  
from behind in an attempt to stimulate my genitals.  But there  
was no movement. 
        On the tape, I watched Trang make her comeback.   
Her blood encrusted face screamed her trademark "psyche- 
myself-up-to-survive" catcall.  She grabbed Matadora's  
shoulders and pulled the Mexican's face closer to her body.   
Trang's jaws opened wide and bit deeply into Matadora's  
cheek.  Matadora let out a yell and her legs stopped crushing  
Trang's ribcage.  Trang's grip on her shoulders was not  
going to let the Mexican go away.  You could see blood  
dripping down from Matadora's face. 
        The Mexican's claws dug deeply into Trang's  
breasts through the swimsuit.  Trang stopped biting and  
hauled off a short punch at Matadora's face.  Not as powerful  
as before, but enough to whip the Mexican's body off of  
Trang. 
        Both women slowly got on their hands and knees,  
and then to their feet.  Trang's nose was broken and there  
was blood all over her teeth.  Her hands were braced for  
Matadora.  The little lithe cat quickly leapt up in the air,  
bringing her legs around Trang's neck, and my lover's face  
crashed down on the ground again. 
        Trang was now laying on her stomach, her neck  
encircled between Matadora's powerful thighs.  The Mexican  
squeezed her leg vice on Trang's neck, while gripping  
Trang's wrists to prevent her from clawing.  You could see  
the straining muscles ripple in Matadora's thighs and back,  
while the color in Trang's face started to darken. 
        "You're a tough fucking bitch!"  Matadora yelled.   
"But this is for Mina!" 
        I could see panic settle in on Trang's face.  Her legs  
were still free, and she got on her knees.  Standing up first on  
her good leg, Trang brought her body up, dragging  
Matadora's body along.  Grunting, she stood up on the  
wounded leg, and now Matadora dangled upside down, her  
thighs still constricting against Trang's neck.  Trang started  
to twirl around, obviously hoping to throw Matadora off her  
body.  But the Mexican was too smart for that.  She grabbed  
hold of Trang's ankles, and kept up her thigh choke.  She  
wasn't going anywhere that Trang wasn't going. 
        Trang realized this and stopped twirling around.   
She pulled at Matadora's thighs, but it was impossible.  Now  
Trang's face was red as a beet. 
        The Chinese fighter leapt up in the air, raising up  
her calves, and came landing on her knees.  Matadora's head  
slammed into the hard floor.  Trang's knees had landed on  
her upper arms, pinning them somewhat against the ground.   
Matadora had released the choke hold and her legs crashed to  
the floor along with the rest of her body. 
        While sucking air back into her lungs, Trang  
grabbed hold of Matadora's ankles and again bent them  
backward, in a wheelbarrow hold. 
        "Give it up, Matadora!"  Trang yelled, and then  
wheezed.  She looked exhausted.  "I did not kill your sister!" 
        Matadora struggled against Trang's pin.  The  
Mexican's pressed her legs and arms forward, but it was no  
use.  Her face inches was away from Trang's butt, but still not  
enough to close in for a bite.  Matadora closed her eyes and  
slammed her head on the floor, almost crying with dishonor  
as she appeared to be defeated. 
        Then her hand found Trang's wounded thigh.  Her  
claws dug in under the bandage and ripped into Trang's  
flesh.  Trang screamed and lost control of Matadora's legs. 
        The crowd in the bar erupted as Matadora turned the  
tide once again.  Trang fell to the side in an effort to get away  
from the hellcat.  But the deadly senorita maintained her claw  
grip on Trang's wound.  Trang kicked at Matadora's chest to  
make her stop.  This only enraged the Mexican even more.   
Her own sweet little leg raised itself into the air, smashing  
down on Trang's chest about three times, and then into the  
Chinese catfighter's bloody face another two times. 
        Trang stopped struggling. 
        Matadora stood up on her feet, raising Trang's left  
leg in the air.  Her hard whipped off the bandage covering  
Trang's wound.  Matadora's sharp nails sliced through all of  
Trang's stitches, reopening the wound. Trang screamed and  
writhed on the floor helplessly. 
        "NO! NO!  STOP!"  Trang yelled.  "I'LL BE YOUR  
SLAVE FOREVER!  I SUBMIT!" 
        "TELL ME!"  Matadora screamed.  Her head  
whipped her hair around, and sweat was wringing out from  
her body.  "CONFESS!  TELL ME YOU KILLED MY  
SISTER AND I'LL KILL YOU PAINLESSLY!" 
        "IT WASN'T ME!"  Trang sobbed.  Tears were  
streaming down her face.  "ON MY LIFE, MISTRESS  
JULIA!  IT WAS XUXA!  I SUBMIT TO YOU!" 
        Matadora let go of Trang's leg.  My former lover  
continued to cry and sob on the floor.  I knew then that Trang  
would despise me forever, even if she lived.  This was her  
ultimate humiliation.  The breaking of her spirit. 
        I could hear Ina moan with pleasure from behind.   
The Dirty Pair kissed each other hungrily, as the dominance  
of Trang made them so excited.  Tara gyrated her hips under  
me, and I could hear a moistness in her cunt.  But no  
movement stirred in my loins.  How could it, when Trang's  
loss meant for me, in effect, a life of total slavery with these  
bitches from hell? 
        And then there was the very last part of the tape.   
The part that got Ina so hot she could come as she watched it.   
The part where Matadora turned away from Trang, ready to  
walk away from her beaten and bloodied foe. 
        But the cretins in the bar couldn't have that.  They  
wanted death.  Many of them had paid to see a women perish  
in battle.  If both survived, they would feel cheated. 
        "Keel dat chica!"  one oaf shouted. 
        "Da bitch killed your sister!"  another thug yelled. 
        "I bet on you--don't fail me!" 
        Matadora looked at them and brushed some hair out  
of her face.  Her chest was heaving with excitement as she  
looked at her fans.  It was now a matter of saving face in front  
of them. 
        Matadora's face contorted, and she let out a fierce  
catcall that must have vibrated through the entire bar.  It did  
not stop, but rose, as she leapt upward into the air, and landed  
her feet on Trang's face. 
        Trang's body jerked under the impact, and  
immediately went limp.  The crowd erupted with pleasure.   
Matadora's catcall finished, and she looked up at the ceiling,  
as if to heaven, and made the sign of the cross on her chest. 
        "LA MATADORA!"  the men in the crowd yelled.   
"CONQUISTADORA!  OLE!  MATADORA!"  They were  
almost frothing with excitement and glee. 
        I stifled my tears as I watched Matadora walk into  
the crowd.  Two thugs grabbed hold of Trang's arms and  
pulled her body to the exit, dragging trails of blood along the  
path.  The first time I had seen it and cried, Tara had  
punched me in the mouth. 
 
Ina's foot jabbed my ass as she had her short orgasm, true to  
form.  I got up from Tara's back as the tape began to rewind.   
I knew what was coming next was no good for me. 
        "You useless,"  Tara said angrily, on her knees. 
        "Sorry, Mistress..."  I said apologetically.  "Let me  
pleasure you with my tongue..." 
        "Silence!"  The palm of Tara's hand smacked  
against my cheek.  "You cannot lie to Tara.  You not excited.   
You not love Tara.  Try to run away from Tara.  Tara run out  
of patience with you!" 
        I watched her thunderous thighs stalk out of the  
room, her head shaking her long silky dark hair back.  Ina  
and Buri exploded in laughter and guffaws. 
        "You blew it!"  Ina said, cuffing my hands to the  
bedpost.  "Gutless Gil!" 
        "So, you're impotent, huh?"  Buri asked, sticking her  
tongue in my ear, enjoying my entrapment.  "Well, guess  
what?  Your dick just blew it for you big time with Tara." 
        "What does that mean?"  I asked, but I already had  
my suspicions. 
        "It means,"  Ina said, securing my ankles in their  
ropes.  "That you are not coming with me and Tara on the  
plane to the Philippines tomorrow." 
        "You're leaving for Catsport already?  Aw, and  
you're leaving Buri behind to take care of me.  How  
thoughtful!"  Catsport.  The ultimate catfighting competition  
was held once a year in Tara's own hometown.  Until we saw  
that tape, my deepest hope had been that Trang would kill  
Tara in this year's Catsport, and win me back my freedom.   
Now all I could hope was that some other bitch would kill  
her, and I would be able to make a getaway in the transfer of  
slaves and property. 
        Buri's tongue moved down to my nipples.  She  
rubbed her breasts against my stomach.  "You want it!  You  
want it, big boy!  Hee-hee...but you can't get it up!" 
        "Nope.  Catsport is still four weeks away."  Ina  
massaged Buri's muscular back as she smirked at me.   
"There's an emergency back in the Philippines.  Tara's had  
no answer from her slaves back there for a few weeks now.   
We have to go and find out what happened to them.  But  
we'll stick around for the contest, since it's so close." 
        "Tell him the best part,"  Buri muttered, her tongue  
running down my stomach, on the trail to my crotch.   
"Strange thing, now that he's impotent, I wanna make it with  
him." 
        "OK,"  Ina began.  "We gotta leave tomorrow.  But  
we'll need lots of cash to place bets during the Catsport, as  
Tara plans to win big there.  Unfortunately, she made the big  
mistake of putting the money in your bank account."  The  
money that I had managed and invested for Tara.  Her  
winnings and the Dirty Pair's assets, all in one account for  
maximized profit.  "The banks are closed tomorrow."  Since  
it was Sunday.  "So, Buri's staying behind to take you to the  
bank on Monday.  You'll remove $50,000 in cash, which  
you'll place into a briefcase.  Buri will bring this over to us in  
Manila and you'll..." 
        I yelled as Buri's teeth bit into my limp penis. 
        "...you'll be free."  Ina finished. 
        "Forever!"  Buri exclaimed, grinning up at me from  
my crotch. 
        The two she-bitches laughed once again, and hugged  
each other with excitement.  Ina pressed Buri on her back and  
started licking her cunt.  I knew what the subtitles were  
reading.  I could see it in Buri's eyes, as she softly stared at  
me with those insane eyes, while Ina worked her up to a crescendo.   
After I got them their blood-money on Monday, Buri was going to kill  
me.  Perhaps she even planned to emasculate me with her bare  
claws.  That bitch was going to thoroughly enjoy every  
sick minute of it if it happened.  She probably imagined it in her  
mind at that moment, as Ina made love to her, hissing  
at me until her orgasm temporarily sated her catlust. 
 
 
 
 
SYNOPSIS:  Gil Versace's catfighting girlfriend, Trang Ho, 
has apparently perished in battle with Matadora.  Now useless 
to his new mistress, Tara the Monster Filipina fighter, Gil 
faces certain death once he makes a bank withdrawal, accompanied 
by Tara's slave Buri Bullock... 
 
 
I searched in vain for a way out of my predicament, for most  
of Sunday.  Buri mercifully left me alone and slept most of  
the day, since she had stayed up all night fucking Tara and  
Ina until they left for the airport.  I had so much time to map  
out a plan for my survival, but my anxiety and fear prevented  
me from thinking clearly. 
        My loose chain, which I wore during daytime hours,  
allowed me enough slack to go to the toilet.  When I sat in  
there one time, taking what I thought to be one of my final  
shits on Earth, I glanced at the National Inquirer the bitches  
had left on the sink.  The copy that I had purchased during  
my last attempted escape--the one with the "Hollywood  
Catfight on Mediterranean Island!" headline. 
        Grateful for the distraction, I grabbed the paper and  
started to rip it open.  On page twenty-two, I saw a small strip  
of three photographs featuring two women in bikinis  
wrestling on the beach.  The story read: 
        "VICTORIA SENSIBLE ATTACKS RAQUEL  
WALSH ON LUNA BEACH!  Former star of TV's nighttime  
soap, Houston, attacked ageless sex-queen Raquel for starting  
nasty rumors about Sensible's line of skin-care products, The  
Sensible Solution.  Apparently, Rocky had told friends the  
products would actually cause skin cancer and that the FDA  
was investigating Vicky's company.  The InSensible One  
found Rocky on the beach and let her have it!  These shots  
were taken by our reporter in a helicopter, who claims the  
fight was broken up shortly by two onlookers.  Reporter Jack  
Mongoose tried to find out later what had transpired, but  
could not enter the Luna island.  Luna is a privately owned,  
tightly secured island and resort spa, used by the most rich  
and famous women in the world as a retreat." 
        I could see one lady with auburn-red hair and  
silicone titties on top of another, older dark-haired woman,  
with a stockier body, and equally big breasts.  The  
photographs showed little more than sand-sprinkled bare  
backs and butts showing through g-string bikini bottoms.  I  
couldn't make out their faces at all, so it was tough to prove if  
this really was the famous Hollywood sex symbol of the 60s  
and 70s fighting the famous TV actress, from shows like  
Houston and countless lurid TV movies. 
        But it in the background, I could see two other  
women laying on the beach, watching the fight.  One  
Mexican lady, and a Chinese lady, both bronzed and buffed,  
wearing sunglasses. 
        It looked like Matadora and Trang.   
She had survived!  Was the fight on the tape faked?   
Or did Matadora's blow simply fail to kill Trang?  The tape  
was at least made four months ago, by my calculations, so it  
was entirely possible that Trang had survived and recovered.   
How did they wind up on island watching a catfight between  
these two Hollywood bimbos?  I couldn't answer all of these  
questions at that point, of course.  It didn't matter.  I was  
reeling with excitement.  I took inspiration from my lover's  
survival, even though I doubted she would be able to save me  
the following day.  If she could cheat such a death, certainly I  
should be able to outwit Buri. 
        I looked down at my penis.  It was getting hard.  I  
stroked myself there in the bathroom, picturing Vicky  
Sensible, Rocky Walsh, Matadora, and Trang, all together,  
fighting and fucking.  I jerked myself to an enormous climax. 
I breathed a huge sigh of relief, laying on the carpet  
and looking up at the ceiling.  Endorphins coursed through  
my brain, bringing along with them a scheme of survival. 
 
 
"Now, you must sign this form here, closing out your account;  
that form, authorizing us to have given you $50,666 in cash;  
the form here, confirming that our cash count, witnessed by  
you and your body guard, was correct." 
        Buri popped a bubble as she watched me sign the  
forms.  She wore dark glasses so that I could never tell where  
she was looking at.  The bitch had taken no chances in  
allowing me to escape.  She had handcuffed me in the car on  
the ride over.  A taser gun inside of her leather jacket was  
ready to zap me if dared to make a run for it. 
        Ms. Jones crossed her legs, exposing a length of her  
ample thigh through a slit in her skirt, as she collected the  
paper work and began to give me my copies.  I saw Buri  
glance at the bank clerk's body.  Even through the dark  
glasses, I could tell that Buri lusted after this woman. 
        "I didn't think she was your type,"  I whispered in  
Buri's ear.  "She's not that buff.  But she is a cutie, huh?" 
        Ms. Jones coughed a bit and shuffled her legs.  I  
think she had overheard me. 
        "Let's get out of here,"  Buri whispered back,  
sticking her tongue in my ear.  "If you're a good boy I'll fuck  
you when we get home, since I'm so horny.  And it won't be  
in the ass this time." 
        "Whoop-ee fuckin' do." 
        Ms. Jones definitely heard that one.  "Well now, Mr.  
Versace.  That's it!  You can take your money now.  We hope  
you'll do business here once again." 
        Buri and I stood up simultaneously.  I grabbed hold  
of the briefcase with my left hand before Buri could touch it. 
        "Oh, I hope to!"  I exclaimed, raising my voice.  I  
pretended to put my arm on Buri's shoulder, but secretly  
clamped down hard on her bulging neck.  Her own hand  
came up to grip my neck, but it was too late.  "I just want you  
to know, Ms. Jones, that you are not only very efficient in  
your job, but your one hell of a good lookin' lady!  You  
should have those gams insured for a million bucks!  My  
assistant here thinks so, too.  You see--"  I raised my voice  
even louder, bending Buri over Ms. Jones desk.  If I was  
going to die, I was at least going to make a scene first.  "-- 
Buri here is such a big fuckin' dyke, she makes Martina  
Navratalova look like Marilyn Monroe!  AND SHE WANTS  
TO TAKE A BIG BITE OUT OF YOUR FAT PUSSY  
RIGHT NOW!" 
        Ms. Jones gasped in horror.  The customers and  
tellers in the bank turned around to look at us.  Even Buri was  
surprised.  I smacked Buri's head down on Ms. Jones' desk,  
and threw her body over the desk at Ms. Jones.  It was quite  
an effort. 
        As I heard Ms. Jones scream as Buri fell on top of  
her, I was already racing for the front entrance.  I made it out  
the door just as Buri had gotten on her feet.  I had planned to  
get in a cab, but there were none around that I could see.  I  
only had three blocks to go to reach one of the big hotels, the  
MGM or the Hyatt, I don't remember which one.  I knew if I  
could get inside one of them, I might lose Buri.  I raced down  
the street and glanced backward.  She was running like a cat  
out of hell after me, the taser gun already in her hand.  There  
were a number of people on the street that afternoon, going to  
different casinos. 
        I put the other part of my plan into action.  Since the  
$50,000 amount in our account had earned some interest, I  
had put the extra $666 in my jacket pocket.  Odd bills of $1,  
$5, $10, $20 denominations.  "Chump change,"  I had said to  
Buri after I had made the request, "for your trip." 
        I quickly removed a wad of cash and threw it all up  
high in the air.  "Free money!  Free money!  I'm rich!  Ha- 
ha!"  I threw more bills as I continued to run. 
        The pedestrians converged on the flying cash in a  
feeding frenzy of greed, just as Buri fired the taser gun at me.   
It struck one man wearing a cowboy hat in the butt as he  
reached for a bill, but I kept going forward. 
        I darted across the street, throwing wads of cash,  
causing traffic to come to a standstill.  I dodged around cars,  
finally reaching the big hotel.  I glanced back and saw Buri  
running over the roofs of several automobiles, still coming  
right for me.  I ran through the lobby, looking for some kind  
of elevator.  The lobby was an open-air type.  Glass elevators  
surrounded a huge casino area.  I ran through a maze of  
blackjack tables and slot machines to reach one that was  
almost full.  As the doors closed behind me, I started to  
breathe a sign of relief until I looked outside. 
        "Shit!  Motherfucker!"  I exclaimed, much to the  
other passengers disgust.  Buri had climbed into another  
elevator, which was rising slowly beneath us.  I saw her face  
pressed against the window, fogging it up as she cursed me  
through the glass. 
        Her elevator stopped on the seventh floor, and I  
laughed gleefully at her as mine kept on going upward to the  
sixteenth.  My heart was racing as I shoved people aside to  
get out, seeking to throw Buri off course.  I found the  
stairwell and started running downward, planning to run  
down all the way to the lobby.  But as I approached the  
thirteenth floor, I heard Buri's footsteps clapping upward  
through the stairwell.  I hit the door to the hallway just as she  
was coming up.  Adrenaline raced through my body as I  
pumped my legs as fast as a jackrabbit towards the elevator.   
As I waited for the elevator to arrive, I could hear the  
stairway door fly open.  I hid behind the wall, waiting an  
eternity while sweat poured down my face.  I heard a chime,  
then darted inside the elevator door, slightly shocking the two  
older people waiting to go down. 
        I pounded the "door close" button a half dozen times,  
almost battering it off the wall.  Just as the doors were shut,  
Buri's left arm jammed inside.  As the doors started to open, I  
took the briefcase and hammered it on Buri's elbow.  The  
older lady behind me shrieked, and her husband pulled me  
back, allowing Buri to step inside. 
        "HELL!  Striking a lady, you lilly livered asswipe!"   
the Good Samaritan shouted. 
        Buri smirked at me as she rubbed her arm.  "What a  
surprise.  Didn't think you had it in you, you stupid son of a  
bitch!"  She cocked back her arm for a punch, while the older  
fella had my arms locked up.  I dodged my head and the blow  
hit Buri's savior in the nose, shattering it, and causing him to  
fall down.  His wife started screaming hysterically. 
        I slammed the briefcase into Buri's chin, knocking  
off her dark glasses, and throwing her back against the  
elevator door.  I hammered the edge of the case again, this  
time into Buri's nose, and I saw a trickle of blood appear,  
right before she shoved the briefcase away and landed a  
punch on my cheek.  I fell on my ass, on top of the other  
fellow. 
        "Shut the fuck up!"  Buri screamed at the hysterical  
older woman.  Buri stood over me and raised her heel over  
my face, to stab me with it. 
        I grabbed the briefcase, and used it to block her foot.   
The heel caught in the briefcase, and I shoved upwards,  
knocking Buri off her feet.  Just then, the elevator door  
opened on the first floor, and Buri tumbled backward into the  
casino.  I started to leap over her, but the she-bitch grabbed  
my foot, and I took a tumble on the floor. 
        "This is it, Gil-fish!"  Buri screamed, raising a claw  
above her head, ready to strike at my groin. 
        Then I saw a gun shoved up next to Buri's temple.   
"Hotel Security!  Put it down, sister!"  
 
 
I have to admit that I only believe in God when it's  
convenient, or in other words, when my life is in danger.  But  
at that point I was ready to firmly believe in the concept of a  
Cat Goddess, because every time it looked like I was home  
free, it just turned out that I was trapped worse than before.   
That Bitch was playing with me like I was a fucking cat toy. 
        You see, droogies, it was Hotel Security that saved  
us.  I had planned on spilling all the beans too, all the  
murders and blackmail, even the stuff that would incriminate  
me, just to get my own ass away from Buri.  But they weren't  
interested in hearing of it, as they worked for Bonapart. 
        The door opened in the little security room, and I  
gathered myself together for my big confession.  My mouth  
dropped open as Mr. Lustiricci followed Dan Bonapart inside,  
dragging Buri along with them. 
        "Good chase, my friend,"  Lustiricci said, smiling.   
"You gave this bitch a run for her money!"  He laughed as  
Bonapart slammed Buri's ass down into a chair.  She wasn't  
happy to be here. 
        "I want to get out of here!"  Buri shouted.  "What  
right do you have to hold me?" 
        "Listen, sweetheart,"  Lustiricci said, grabbing her  
chin.  "The people who own this joint are part of my family.   
You just shot a man in the ass with enough juice to light up  
the neon sign at Caesar's.  You assaulted one of our  
customers in the elevator.  And you attempted to steal  
$50,000 from Mr. Versace.  You ain't got nothin'!  But if you  
stay quiet and cooperate, we'll let you settle all this...with  
one fight." 
        "I told you that we would see each other soon,"   
Bonapart said to me.  "We've had your house staked out for a  
couple of months.  We even planted bugs inside so we could  
listen to you.  We were going to get you today, but you, ha-ha,  
made our workload a little easier by coming to us." 
        "Then why the fuck didn't you come and get me out  
of there weeks ago?"  I asked. 
        "Because we weren't ready yet,"  Lustiricci said.   
"We wanted our fighter to take out these women, one by one,  
in an arena where we could make a profit.  But she wasn't  
ready until now..." 
        A knock occurred on the door. 
        "...and here she is!"  Lustiricci exclaimed. 
        A tall, muscular Chinese woman, dressed in black  
tight biker shorts and athletic bra, walked into the room. 
        "Trang!"  I shouted.  "You did survive!  I knew it  
was you on Luna--" 
        I stopped then, remembering her letter to me.  How  
she wrote about her hatred for me.  I noted her appearance.   
Her shoulders, arms, chest, and legs, were bulkier than  
before.  She had gotten more into the body building...and her  
long dark hair was now cut.  Trang now wore a shorter  
French cut, and her hair had been dyed a dark reddish brown  
color with streaks of blonde showing through. 
        Trang didn't smile, but walked over and grabbed my  
hair, pulling my head back.  Her mouth dove into mine,  
kissing me, playing with my tongue.  I started to feel relief, as  
if her feelings had softened over time the way I had  
hoped...until she caught my tongue in her teeth and bit down  
hard. 
        I squirmed and panicked.  Before the bite got really  
bad, Trang let go of me, and laughed.  "That's only the  
beginning, my dear.  It'll have to wait, since I have a bitch to  
kill first." 
        Her eyes locked onto Buri's, who hissed at her. 
        "You won't have to pay me to fight her,"  Buri said.   
"Just get a mop ready for all the blood.  Get ready to lick my  
cunt, Trang." 
        "I won't be fighting for slavery,"  Trang said.  "But  
you will have a financial incentive.  Gil is going to place all  
of the money in this briefcase on our fight." 
        "I am?"  I asked.  "I don't suppose I can go home  
and watch this fight on pay-cable?" 
        Lustiricci and Bonapart laughed. 
        "I'll allow you to pick who you think will win,"   
Trang told me. 
        "The odds are against Trang,"  Bonapart said.   
"Buri's got a big rep, even before she came here.  But hardly  
anyone in this town knows who the fuck Trang is." 
        "If you lose that money on Trang,"  Buri warned,  
waving her index finger at me.  "I'll have to bring Tara your  
head and genitals in the briefcase when I go to Manila.  If I  
win, I'll let you go free...and lie to Tara about your death." 
        I gulped, as the buttfucker confirmed my suspicions.   
The odds to me seemed about 50-50 between Trang and Buri,  
but only if all of Trang's injuries were healed completely.   
Still, no matter what my uncertainty was over Trang's  
feelings for me...I couldn't trust Buri further than I could  
throw her, which was over a desk.  "All my money's on  
Trang." 
        "Fool!"  Buri yelled, pounding the table with her fist. 
        "Let's go,"  Lustiricci said.  "We've already got a  
high-roller crowd waiting." 
 
 
Part II of II 
 
SYNOPSIS:  Gil Versace's life has gone from worse to 
infinitely worse in a couple of hours.  Two bitches are 
fighting to the death over him, the mob has forced him to 
bet $50,000 on the match, and he must be the slave of 
whoever wins the fight... 
 
 
The cage was located in basement underneath the hotel.  I  
had heard about it, but never got Tara's crew booked into any  
fights here before.  The walls of the cage were lined with  
solid, clear, unbreakable glass.  Cameras and microphones  
were hung up above the ceilings of the cage, ready to tape a  
video that Lustiricci could market on a global scale.  Outside  
the cage, various types of men, about six dozen, circled the  
cage, watching the two catfighters disrobe.  It wasn't all men  
who were watching--there were some women there, too,  
accompanying their men, which surprised the hell out of.   
The cage was illuminated brightly by lights, but the outside  
was kept darker.  A few men and women served drinks to the  
crowd, loosening up their wallets, as they placed their final  
bets, watching Trang and Buri do their stretching exercises.   
Both women were naked inside the cage. 
        This was big-money catfighting.  Everything else we  
had experienced up to this point was small potatoes.  As  
Bonapart had mentioned, most people were betting on Buri-- 
especially when they saw that she was four inches taller than  
Trang. 
        I was a mixture of emotions, anxiety, fear, a desire to  
see the fight, a terrible urge to run out of the building.   
Bonapart's man stuck close to me, allowing me no chance to  
run for my life.  So I slammed down a couple of boilermakers  
into my gut and started praying, like I do when I'm neck-deep  
in shit, that Trang would kill the bitch and I could make it up  
with her.  She avoided making eye contact with me, but my  
eyes poured over the sexy new muscles rippling up her butt  
and back.  Every once in a while I would glance at Buri and  
she would hiss at me. 
        "Ladies and Gentlemen,"  Lustiricci's voice rang out  
through a microphone.  "Place your final bets." 
        A soft chime rang, and two women stood up.  They  
danced on bare feet, teasing and coming closer to each other.   
Their fists were bunched up as they circled each other.  They  
instinctively began this first part as a boxing match.  Buri had  
been practicing her boxing every day since Tara had kicked  
her tail to shreds.  She smiled and jabbed at Trang's head,  
who dodged the blows quickly.  Trang fired off a few jabs at  
Buri's tits and head, which failed to connect as well.  I wasn't  
sure that boxing was Trang's best skill. 
        Buri's thumb wiped away a bit of sweat from her  
nose and she sniffed.  "I don't think you're so tough.  You  
just got lucky 'cause you cheated Tara." 
        Trang's response was a fierce, flying, snap kick to  
Buri's head.  Spittle sprayed the glass, and her body flew  
backward.  I watched the tall amazon's breasts shake as her  
back collided against the glass.  Trang's fists smashed into  
those tits as her opponent was momentarily stunned. 
        Buri shook her head, and drove an uppercut into  
Trang's chin, knocking my lover off her feet.  Buri leaped on  
top of Trang, claws aiming for her face.  Trang's legs dove  
into Buri's gut and flipped the brunette over.  Trang got on  
her hands and knees to get up, but Buri rolled over and  
hugged her breasts from behind. 
        "You ain't goin' nowhere now,"  Buri hissed, biting  
Trang's ear.  She executed a full nelson around the Chinese  
woman's shoulder's, attempting to smash her head into the  
ground.  Trang's arms prevented this from happening.  Buri  
exerted more weight and pressure against Trang's back.  I  
watched the two of them grow sweaty, and saw Buri get more  
excited over the prospect of dominating Trang.  They grunted  
and strained, but Buri saw that the nelson wasn't going to  
deliver the goods.  Maintaining the grip, she rolled on her  
back, ensnaring Trang's legs with her own. 
        Buri spread both her legs apart, making Trang's  
stretch wider, too.  Trang's cunt was spread wide open for the  
spectators to see, as she struggled under Buri's grip. 
        "This is good, baby,"  Buri said.  Her teeth nibbled  
on Trang's earlobe.  I could tell Buri was getting hot and  
horny the way Trang's bare ass was rubbing against Buri's  
cunt. 
        "Hmmmm,"  a cheap looking woman said, who  
stood next to me watching the fight.  "This is sexy." 
        Trang's face, full of frustration, yelled her psych-me- 
up scream, and she rolled over on to her stomach.  Buri  
merely rolled on top of her, pressing her ass hard on Trang's  
butt to keep her down.  The leg lock on Trang was now gone.   
The Chinese Cat got up on her knees, somersaulting forward.   
It did not throw off Buri, as the brunette kept a hold of Trang,  
forcing her once again to land on Buri's front side.  Trang  
wrenched her arms out of Buri's grip, and her elbow pounded  
Buri's right breast.  Trang tried to get away, but Buri caught  
hold of her short hair, and threw her down to the ground. 
        Buri lifted her legs and they encircled Trang's chest.   
Her powerful vice tighted around Trang's ribs and we heard  
Trang squeal. 
        "This, honey,"  Buri said, panting, holding Trang's  
head by the hair, "is gonna be a hell of a lot worse than that  
little spic Matadora."  The brunette poured on the pressure  
with her massive legs, and laughed as Trang's feet pounded  
the ground as the pain began to penetrate. 
        Trang's sharp claw darted out and bit into one of  
Buri's huge breasts, drawing blood. 
        "Bitch!"  Buri yelled, and slammed Trang's head  
into the floor. 
        The brunette's hand came at Trang's face to claw it,  
but Trang caught it with her free hand, maintaining the breast  
claw.  She bent Buri's hand and twisted it, bringing it behind  
the amazon's back.  Trang sat up quickly, bring the hand  
further backward, and broke Buri's leg vice. 
        Now Buri was on her stomach, and Trang clamped  
her thighs around Buri's to lock her down.  Trang's other  
hand raked down Buri's back, drawing trails of blood from  
the nape of her neck to her lower ass cheek, while Buri  
screamed bloody murder. 
        "Oh my god!"  the same woman next to me  
exclaimed, hugging her date.  "This is all real!" 
        "She didn't get that tigress tattoo on her butt from a  
box of Cheerios, lady!"  I replied, shutting her up. 
        Buri's free hand reached backward and grabbed  
Trang's hair.  She pulled and rolled forward, flipping Trang  
off her body.  Trang quickly rolled over on to her feet, at the  
same time that Buri stood up. 
        "Come and get cut up some more,"  Trang hissed at  
Buri, waving her claws around. 
        A roar erupted from Buri's lungs as she charged  
Trang.  Trang's claw rang out again, raking Buri's cheek,  
barely missing an eye.  Another claw drew blood off of Buri's  
untouched breast.  Trang was giving out little catcalls as she  
struck the bigger woman.  But Buri charged through the  
attack, ignoring the cuts, grabbed a fistful of Trang's hair,  
and slammed the Chinese catfighter's head down on her  
knee.  Buri's arms wrapped around Trang's back, and shoved  
Trang's head in-between Buri's thighs.  Still standing, Buri  
clamped down tight on Trang's neck.  Buri's powerful hands  
gripped Trang's waist firmly. Her claws bit into part of  
Trang's buns.  She lifted, and jerked Trang's lower body in  
the air.  Buri caught Trang's thighs in her hands, and pulled  
Trang's feet above Buri's head.  It was an upside down  
wheelbarrow hold. 
        An awful grunt erupted from Trang as her body was  
bent, upside-down, in front of Buri's powerful standing body.   
I was afraid Trang's neck was going to snap any minute in  
the leg vice.  Buri's claws dug into Trang's thighs and bent  
them apart wider.  I swear I heard a pop from her leg joint, as  
Trang groaned louder. 
        "This is it, sugar pop,"  I heard a Texan gambler  
behind me say.  "Let's bring home the bacon!  Whoa!" 
        "Submit!"  Buri shouted, spitting on the floor.  "And  
you can be breakfast in bed tomorrow!"  Her claws inched  
closer to Trang's cunt... 
        ...then Buri screamed as Trang's sharp thumbnails  
dug into Buri's clitoris. 
        The shock caused Buri to lose focus for a few  
moments, but it was all that Trang needed.  Her legs broke  
away from Buri's grip, and encircled the brunette's neck for a  
choke hold.  Trang's head popped out of Buri's leg vice.  She  
grabbed Buri's arms, pulling herself upright.  Trang now sat  
up on Buri's shoulders as the amazon wobbled around the  
floor, trying to pull apart Trang's legs from her neck.   
Trang's claws started raking Buri's head, shoulders, and  
arms rapidly.  You could see blood and spittle from Buri  
bouncing around as Trang continued her savage attack.  I had  
never seen anything like it, before or after.  Trang had  
become like a wild animal. 
        Buri gripped Trang's shoulder's and started to fall  
forward on her stomach.  It appeared to be the only thing that  
could take Trang off of her.  Before the fall was complete,  
Trang had leapt off her opponent's back.  Buri's chin hit the  
ground, and the rest of her face scraped the floor when  
Trang's beautiful, barely touched buns slammed into the back  
of her head. 
        "Nice cushion!"  Trang said, cackling, raking her  
claws down the Buri's back once again, then leaping to her  
feet.  Her expression was now so resplendently evil, taking so  
much joy in the humilation of Tara's slave. 
        Trang skipped over to the corner of the cage, looking  
for a moment like a grade school girl.  She put her hands on  
her hips, and tapped her toe against floor, waiting for Buri to  
stand up. 
        "This is the only chance..."  Trang stated, as Buri  
faced her.  "...you will have to submit to me. Renounce Tara,  
and acknowledge me as your mistress, forever!" 
        Buri's feet started dancing the boxer's dance.  Her  
face was a bloody mess, almost unrecognizable now, but you  
could see the catfury and yes, even catlust, in her eyes as she  
glared at Trang.  Blood dripped off her sculpted buns of steel  
onto the floor as her feet moved around.  She spit more blood  
and snot, this time at Trang.  It landed on her chest. 
        "Fuck you, chink!"  Buri yelled, putting up her fists  
once more.  "TONIGHT YOU'LL EAT MY SHIT FOR  
DINNER!" 
        Trang started her own boxer's dance, but it was  
different from Buri's.  Her feet ran all over the floor, circling  
Buri, jabbing her kidneys, punching Buri's tits.  She was  
trying to disorient Buri. 
        Buri's leg struck out, the first kickboxing move I had  
seen her pull all night.  Trang dodged it easily.  I guess that  
was the big opening she had waited for. 
        The opportunity for Trang to demonstrate her new  
snapdragon punch. 
        It whipped Buri's head to the left, and the expression  
on her face turned instantly sour.  Her body flew back to the  
glass wall of the cage.  Trang's catcall filled the air as she  
rushed Buri.  The amazon's body bounced off the wall, and  
she might have fallen down, if Trang's standing leg kick  
hadn't lashed upward, smacking her jaw.  Buri's back  
bounced into the glass again, and back toward Trang once  
more.  I'm sure it wasn't Buri's will at that point.  Her limp,  
rag-doll body just reacted to force and inertia.  Trang fired off  
another snapdragon punch, whipping Buri's head to the right,  
cracking open Buri's skull. 
        Buri's blood and brains splattered all over the glass.   
The glass wall vibrated from the final impact of Buri's  
carcass hitting it for at least three minutes afterward. 
        Trang continued her catcall scream, this time in  
victory.  It was enough to freeze the piss in every man's  
bladder.  The women in the room, including the waitresses,  
started running to the exits and restrooms.  I saw one lady  
upchucking into a handkerchief. 
        "Taaaarrrrraaaaa!"  Trang screamed, pointing at a  
video camera. 
        Relieved that Buri the buttfucker was out of my life,  
I started to shudder at what Trang's victory would now cost  
me. 
 
 
"This is for the big killing that we all made today," Bonapart  
said, ushering us into the lavish suite at the top of the hotel.   
"Please make yourself at home." 
        He spoke to Trang, who was now dressed in her  
atheltic gear once again.  Bonapart and his goon had made  
sure that I had waited for my winnings and followed Trang  
up here. 
        "My man can stand watch here by the door, if you  
like,"  Bonapart said. 
        "No thanks,"  Trang laughed.  "I think I can handle  
him."  She squeezed my neck like a vice and bent my chest  
over my feet.  I dropped the briefcase with it's original  
contents, along a Versace shopping bag, containing almost  
$200,000 in tax-free cash, on the carpet. 
        "Yes, I see that you can!  If you need anything, it's  
all on the house."  Bonapart and the goon opened the door,  
but before they left, he said:  "Mr. Lustiricci would like to talk  
to you tomorrow about the Catsport." 
        "Of course,"  Trang replied, flipping me over the  
sofa.  "I will be delighted to." 
        "And don't forget our special room and...cleaning  
service, should any accidents ever arise."  Bonapart's goon  
laughed as he closed the door. 
        Trang leapt on top of me, knocking me off the sofa,  
flat on the floor.  She pressed my arms on the carpet and  
kissed me, biting my tongue lightly once again.  Her mouth  
gripped my cheek and bit down hard, drawing blood.  I  
struggled against her, trying to get up, but she was now so  
much stronger than I was. 
        "Stop it, you fucking bitch!"  I yelled. 
        "Oh, Gil,"  Trang laughed.  "Bonapart's man told  
me he had overheard that you were impotent...but I see that  
isn't true!" 
        My hard-on was back, indeed.  The Fever still raged  
in my heart, though somewhat cooled by my own threatened  
safety.  I watched Trang's sexy legs wrap around mine and  
longed to kiss her. 
        "Let me up, Trang,"  I asked her.  "I'll make love to  
you.  It'll be so good..." 
        "Oh, yes, Gil,"  Trang replied, sticking her tongue in  
my ear.  She knew I couldn't stand that.  "It'll be so good-- 
for you.  You'll have your Chinese slave back, and you'll be  
in control of her again, won't you?" 
        "No, it's not like that, Trang, I just want--" 
        "SHUT UP!"  Trang screamed, and hit me hard  
across my face with the flat of her hand.  It knocked the  
breathe out of my nose for a bit.  "I KNOW EXACTLY WHO  
YOU ARE, GIL VERSACE!"  She slapped me again a  
number of times.  "BUT YOU DON'T HAVE A FUCKING  
CLUE WHO I AM OR WHAT I WANT!" 
        The last blow drew blood from my nose and lips.   
Trang stood up, grabbed my hair, and dragged me yelling  
into the bedroom. 
        "You think Buri tortured you, Gil?"  she said,  
throwing me on top of a king-sized four poster bed.  My head  
smacked against the bedframe.  "Compared to what I've been  
through, it's nothing.  NOTHING!"   
Trang whipped a pair of handcuffs out of her Nike  
windbreaker.  She attached one end of the cuff to my left  
wrist, the other end to the bedpost.  Her right claw rose in the  
air to strike me.  I closed my eyes, afraid she was going for  
my genitals.  Instead, her fingernails ripped through my  
chest, tearing off part of my shirt in the process. 
        I screamed as she straddled my waist and leaned  
over my chest. 
        "You can't imagine how bad the switchblade felt,"   
Trang said, eyes of hate staring into mine.  "It took a month  
for my thigh to heal completely.  Fortunately, Matadora is not  
so bad all the time.  At her hacienda, she is a quite a  
benevolent Mistress.  Her intuition told her that I was telling  
the truth about Xuxa.  She allowed me to fight for my  
freedom.  I've won slaves and lots of money for her, in the  
three months I've been back fighting.  I only have one more  
battle in servitude after this, and I will be a free woman."  Her  
nails pinched my nipples, and I squirmed.  "Then I'm going  
after Tara in the Catsport!" 
        "I wish it never happened!"  I yelled back.  "If I  
could take it all back, I would.  But I can't!  I just want to get  
out of this stupid, catfighting nightmare!" 
        "You want to get out?  OUT!  You think I can get  
out, Gil?  You think Matadora, Tara, or Lustiricci will leave  
me alone now?  No!  Did you want me to get out when  
Morgan was whipping me in our bed?  Did you want me out  
of it when Helen had a dog lick my cunt?  Or when I almost  
lost my life in Cozumel?"   
        She roared and began knawing on my earlobe.  I  
struggled to get away, to pull her head off me with my free  
hand, but it was no use. 
        Trang pressed my right hand to the mattress.  "It's  
too rough for you, Gil?  Poor baby.  I am not going to let you  
leave now.  You'll come with me to Cabo San Lucas.  You'll  
really belong to Matadora, of course, but maybe after I'm free,  
it'll be just us.  In a few weeks, you'll be reunited with  
Tara...hah!...briefly!" 
        My once-kind lover rolled off my body and stood up.   
I breathed a sigh of relief as she took off the windbreaker,  
atheletic bra, and biker shorts. 
        "Don't worry, Gil,"  Trang said, smiling.  She  
enjoyed the power of control she had over me, I could tell, the  
bitch!   Standing their naked, I could see that her nipples  
were erect.  "It won't all be so bad...if you can get it up hard  
enough to give me and Matadora a little workout.  We will be  
better Mistress' to you than Buri.  After all, I already talked  
Matadora into invading Tara's Manila home in order to  
destroy those photographs." 
        "You mean...there's no more blackmail?" 
        "Nope!  It's all been destroyed.  Along with one of  
Tara's slaves.  Matadora took in one as part of her  
Catpack." Trang turned to go into the bathroom. 
        "So that was you and Matadora on Luna.  What did  
you two do there, put on a faked fight like the one that was on  
that tape you sent us?" 
        Trang turned around and faced me grimly.  "The  
fight on the tape wasn't faked.  I came very close to losing my  
own life.  Matadora's final blow was designed to knock me  
unconscious, rather than snap my neck.  Matadora told me  
later that she had lusted after my ass too much to kill me  
without a taste of my pussy first.  The day after the fight, my  
new Mistress to the prison and exacted her vengence on Xuxa  
with her bare hands." 
        A chill ran up my spine as I heard Trang laugh this  
off.  "What about those Hollywood bimbos on Luna?" 
        She slapped her thighs and laughed.  "I can't believe  
you spotted us!  That stupid photographer in the helicopter!   
We were paid some pretty big money to go there and wrestle  
some Hollywood starlets.  If you're a good slave, I'll tell you  
all about my fight with Demi Less...what a boob job she  
has!"  Trang stroked her pussy and closed the door. 
        I collapsed against the mattress as I heard the water  
start pouring.  It was worse than I feared, I thought to myself.   
A fucking nightmare. 
        My lover had become a total animal.  A cat who took  
what she lusted after, striking without care or mercy.  And I  
had made her that way.  Trang seemed to soften a bit, after  
her ritual of raking me over the coals, but I couldn't take the  
chance on when her mood would change.  Or what Matadora  
or her slaves might do to me in their little dungeon if I ever  
got out of line.   
        I am a particular brand of fetishist, my droogies.   
You think I enjoy being dominated or butt fucked by women?   
No.  I prefer the passive act of watching women fight and  
fucking them at my whim. 
        Laying upon the bed, my chest ragged and bloody, I  
had no time to suffer guilt or recriminations.  I desperately  
sought for a way to escape Trang before she emerged from the  
shower.  I tugged at the bedpost with my cuff, trying to  
wrench it off the frame.  But I was weak from all the events  
that had occurred earlier that day.  I gave up on it soon. 
I had almost resigned myself to a new life of slavery  
with Mistress Trang and Mistress Matadora when...I  
remembered that Trang had pulled the handcuffs out of a  
windbreaker.  Yes!  And that is where the keys might be. 
The windbreaker lay to the side of the bed.  I reached  
for it with my right hand, but it was too far to grab.  I strained  
my leg, dipped my foot down, and caught the hood of the  
jacket with my big toe.  I dragged it with foot over to my  
hand, and laid it next to me on the bed. 
        The keys were in the pocket.     
        After uncuffing my wrist, I stood up from the bed,  
uncertain of what to do next.  Part of me was tempted to go  
into the shower and tie up Trang with the handcuffs.  I  
pictured my own brains becoming tapioca pudding on the  
walls and the sudden need for Bonapart's special "cleaning  
service."  The graphic thought in my head quickly discarded  
that idea.  The best idea was to split while my lovely hellcat  
was taking a long victory shower. 
        Since my own shirt was tattered, I pulled Trang's  
Nike windbreaker over my chest.  I latched on to the briefcase  
containing the $50,000 cash on the way out the door.  I  
almost pissed in my pants before the elevator arrived.  I rode  
it down to the second floor, where I switched to the stairs, and  
made it out of the hotel through a side exit.  My heart was  
beating so fast by the time I reached a cab, I barely had  
strength to yell out the words, "Airport!" 
        I took the first flight of Las Vegas.  It took about  
eight of those small bottles of whisky to stop my hands from  
shaking from all the trauma I had been through.  When I  
sobered up a month later, I prayed to God to make sure that I  
would never, ever, see Trang or Tara again.  In return, I  
promised both Him and myself that I would never date or  
fuck another female wrestler or catfighter again for the rest of  
my stupid life. 
        From that moment onward, I swore, true believers,  
that I was finished with the Cat Scratch Fever! 
 
SYNOPSIS:  Gil Versace's addiction, the Cat Scratch Fever, 
has cost him plenty.  Now he has resolved to fight this 
problem... 
 
 
One year later, I believed I had made a near total recovery  
from my "sexual catfighting addiction."  I was living in Santa  
Cruz, working for a high tech company near Silicon Valley,  
and had joined a twelve step program for sexaholics.  I had no  
contact or word from any catfighter in that time.  I believed  
that they were out of my life, permanently. 
        My first few months in California were spent in a  
daze, as I recovered from my ordeals by mostly sleeping and  
going to the beach everyday.  I decided my sexual addiction to  
catfighting and wrestling was the cause of my ruined life.   
        One day, I picked up a Christian pamphlet disguised as a  
sexual self-help document, where a pastor explained that such  
sexual obsessions could be cured by an organization called  
Sexaholics Anonymous.  I know it sounds ludicrous, but I was  
so anxious for my paranoia to end.  I was living in fear of  
seeing Trang or Tara every time an Asian woman with long  
hair turned around.  After weeks of living in fear, I had to do  
something.  My drinking had escalated, and that was not  
making my anxiety or sexual dreams go away.  I gave in and  
went to an S.A. meeting.  I was somewhat surprised to find  
out that I had to give up all sexual activity for the first year.   
After I read their literature, there was a sweet, sick, logic to  
it.  Oh, it was rocky, boy!  I had a couple days of celibacy,  
then I would see some TV show featuring Victoria Sensible.   
I would start thinking of Hollywood catfights on Luna, and  
begin jerking my yin-yang to ecstasy.  After I got rid of the  
TV, stopped going to movies, and discontinued all my  
magazine subscriptions, my periods of celibacy got longer.   
        Soon, I had three months of near-total celibacy, along with  
the new job, and a house that I had made a downpayment on  
with the money from Vegas.  But most importantly--I finally  
had a quiet, peaceful, contented state of mind. 
        Shit!  I thought to myself one day.  I got this Fever  
licked.  I'm a fucking-free man! 
        So, what did I finally do with this blissful state of  
mine?  I met a megababe and threw all that S.A. shit out the  
window. 
        Joanne Duncan was a manager for another division  
in my company.  She was untypical of the women I used to  
date, or so I thought.  She wasn't Asian, for one thing.  A  
California blonde, though smarter than the stereotype, who  
was ambitious and smart.  I met Joanne in the company  
health club.  Sense a pattern here?  So did my S.A, sponsor,  
but I stopped returning his calls.   
        I took one look at Joanne's aerobicized butt and  
started making small talk.  Her body was slightly buffed and  
toned, as she did a little weight training, too.  She gave me  
interesting signals right from the start, and we began dating. 
        One afternoon, we wound up in bed together.   
Joanne kneeled in front of me and I thrusted my penis into  
her in the doggie position.  She rocked her hips back and  
forth and moaned as I stroked her.  It was so good to be back  
having normal sex!  And I had done so without without  
thinking about women's wrestling or catfighting!  Still more  
proof I was cured. 
        We dated exclusively for a few months, and then  
Joanne moved in to live with me.  It was pretty much a  
foregone conclusion at that point we would be married,  
probably in the next year.  She was ready to settle down, and  
me, I was more than ready to be stable and be committed to  
one person for the rest of my life.  I felt like I had experienced  
all the variety that I could stand!  Hell, I was just about ready  
to vote Republican and sign on for the Jimmy Swaggert  
crusade. 
        I never told Joanne anything about Trang or the Cat  
Scratch Fever.  I had confessed all that I had needed to in my  
SA meetings (even though my stories alone made several  
attendees go "off the wagon").  In my view, Joanne was just  
about as perfect as a white woman could be.  She was sweet,  
smart, caring, outgoing, energetic, and thoughtful.  In  
addition, Joanne had a ravenous libido that seemed to be in  
tune with my own sexual energy.  She even seemed to like it  
when I plunged a thumb up her butt, or pinched her heavy  
breasts.  Still possessing a desire to be somewhat  
conservative, I didn't want our lovemaking to get too out of  
hand, so I didn't press it. 
        After we had been a couple for six months, our  
fucking started to get a little dull and repetitious.  Unbidden  
thoughts crept back into my mind.  One night, while Joanne  
rode me on top, I fantasized about her wrestling Linda, our  
sexy admin assistant.  Little, lovely, brown-haired Linda, with  
those strong thighs and arms.  I saw her standing next to  
Joanne in aerobics class, and for an instant, her hand had  
touched Joanne's butt.  That was it!  The thought of Linda  
pouncing on top of little Joanne in her leotard drove me nuts!   
When I orgasmed that night, it had very little to do with the  
sensations Linda was giving me.  That made me feel guilt  
afterward. 
        I tried to stop these thoughts.  But they would strike  
me when I was the most unprepared.  At work, seeing the  
pantyhose that Linda was wearing.  In the gym, watching a  
nice pair of buns walk by after I finished a set or repetitions.   
Or, in any given location, unexpectedly.  Late one afternoon  
in a 7-Eleven, a Filipina clerk, strutting  
around in black tights while she handed out Lottery tickets.  It  
drove me crazy.  I went home and fantasized about HER  
stomping Joanne's ass. 
        The Fever had me in its grip once again, my  
droogies.  But I still tried to fight it. 
        "Gil, honey, what's wrong?"  Joanne asked me one  
night, after I had come.  "You seem so...angry." 
        "It's nothing.  I'm just a little stressed out from  
work." 
        I arranged to take a business trip to Washington,  
DC.  I planned to get my head straight there, clean it up with  
God talk, and get my fantasizing about female fighting back  
under lock and key! 
 
 
"I stopped at home for lunch.  This package came for you in  
the mail,"  Joanne said, dropping off a large manila envelope  
on my desk.   
        I was so rushed to get to the airport, I didn't even  
look it.  I stuffed it into my briefcase and kissed Joanne on the  
cheek.   "Gotta go!  I'll call you tonight, OK?"   I saw a funny  
look on her face. 
        "Just kinda tired.  Drive careful, all right?" 
        I didn't see that the package contained a videotape  
until the plane was somewhere over Nevada.  The postmark  
on the manila envelope indicated that it had come from Cabo  
San Lucas in Mexico.  I ordered a few of those microscopic  
bottles of booze after I saw the label on the tape. 
        Catsport 92. 
        Oh my God, I thought, as the booze slid down into  
my gut.  The Cats have found me again! 
        Just when I had determined to be a good little boy,  
the old questions wandered back into my mind.  Trang.  Ina.   
Tara.  Who had won?  Who had proven themselves to be the  
toughest and smartest cat?  More importantly, who had sent  
the tape...and who might be stalking me? 
        I couldn't stop worrying and wondering about it.  I  
even went off into the bathroom to jerk off, just so that I could  
calm down and keep my sanity for the rest of the flight.  I  
wanted to yell at everyone who obstructed my way to getting  
into the hotel room with a VCR so that I could find out what  
had happened.  Joanne, my job, my SA oaths--they all went  
by the wayside. 
        I jammed the tape into the VCR in my room even  
before I put away the luggage.  I took off my shorts and  
started rubbing myself, so horny even before it started.  The  
titles rolled off the screen... 
        "Lustiricci Worldwide Video presents:" 
        "Catsport 92:  Catfight Competition Highlights."   
        There were snippets of the previous matches leading  
up to this one.  Brief five or ten second flashes of incredibly  
vicious fights.  Snippets of unknown women wrestling and  
boxing each other, all naked, some using deadly, razor sharp  
heel highs, as weapons.  And then the women that I knew.  A  
scene of Ina bear hugging Trang from behind, squeezing her  
ribs, lifting my ex-lover off her feet.  Trang screaming and  
looking utterly helpless.  Cut to a scene of Tara fighting an  
African woman.  The Filipina suffered a powerful two- 
handed blow to her spine and fell down.  Cut to another scene  
of a Thai kickboxer, big breasts on her tiny frame, making  
Matadora suckle them as she submits.  Cut back to Trang  
standing over Ina, breaking the blonde's arm, and winning a  
submission.  Cut to Tara laying on top of her African  
opponent's back, wrapping her body around the African's like  
a copper cobra, and choking the life out of her enemy.  Cut to  
Trang getting pummelled by the Thai kickboxer, who smiles  
gleefully as each blow connects, like it's real personal  
between them.  Cut to Tara breaking a white woman's back  
over her knee.  Cut back to Trang slashing and smashing at  
the Thai Cat until she is unconsciousness. 
        Then the full credits appeared:   
        "Catsport 92:  Championship Catfight". 
        "Tara versus Trang." 
        The arena they fought in was a circular cage, ringed  
by a stand where the audience sat in and watched.  An  
enormous statue of a golden tigress glittered with the  
reflection of the stage lights in the background.  There were  
various other cat emblems around the stage, which I learned  
later, are part of the religion that the Cat Cult practices. 
Trang and Tara entered the cage from opposite ends,  
and stood glaring at each other.  For a minute they almost  
looked like a yin-yang symbol, the way the shadows fell upon  
the stage.  They were both naked and each of them stood in  
the stiletto heels that were as sharp as knives.  Tara's arms  
were crossed in front of her breasts, and the smile on her face  
teased Trang as if to say:  I have crushed you once before, and  
I will love to do it to you again.   
        Trang never let her face look away from Tara's eyes.   
Her arms flexed and dangled at the side of her body. 
        The hag who was the head of the Cat Cult, who  
looked to be a Thai woman in her late forties, addressed the  
assembly, advising the gamblers (whose money, after all,  
profitted her Cult enormously) to place their final bets, and  
announcing the winnings for the Champion Catfighter of the  
year.  There was, of course, a financial prize, totalling  
$100,000 in US cash.  And another spoil of victory, death or  
slavery for the loser, and ownership of her slaves to the victor. 
        After the bell chimed, the two catfighters moved in  
closer to each other.  There was great cheering going on for  
both of them from the audience.  I could hardly hear any  
dialog between the two fighters because of the constant roar. 
        Trang exploded into action, taking a series of  
standing somersaults to reach Tara quickly, the heel of her  
foot arcing across the Filipina's shoulder, drawing blood.  It  
had just narrowly missed the juglar.  Tara launched a  
snapdragon punch immediately, which just grazed Trang's  
breast as she dodged it. 
        Tara's hand flashed out and grabbed Trang's head  
by the hair.  The Filipina's left foot smashed into Trang's  
cheek repeatedly, rattling the Chinese femizon's head.  Tara's  
supporters in the audience roared with delight. 
        Trang grabbed the kicking leg and twisted it,  
throwing Tara to the ground.  The Filipina landed on her  
tummy.  Trang took off the Filipina's stiletto heel from her  
left foot, and continued to twist it.  Tara slapped the floor  
with her hands in agony.  My ex-lover sat on the Filipina's  
back, wrenching Tara's left leg in her hand as she did so. 
        Tara screamed and her nails scraped the concrete  
floor.  Her free right foot slammed into Trang's back, the  
point of the stiletto heel puncturing Trang's back, just below  
the rib cage.  Trang rolled away before her enemy could drive  
it deeper, and got to her feet. 
        The Filipina hellcat also got to her feet in a hurry,  
but this time you could see that she was limping on her left  
leg.  Trang moved in quickly and performed a flying spin  
kick that connected with Tara's chin.  A sluice of blood  
followed as the heel of Trang's shoe raked across.  Tara fired  
a snapdragon punch once more, but Trang dropped to her  
knees, below Tara's waist.  She fired off her own snapdragon  
punch... 
        ...and broke Tara's kneecap!  The crowd went  
bannanas. 
        The fighting Filipina howled as she crumpled to the  
ground.  She fell on top of Trang, more of in a heap of agony,  
than as a direct attack.  Tara's body pressed Trang's back flat  
on the floor, and the Filipina must have channelled her pain  
into aggression.  Her claws raked Trang's forehead,  
splattering blood all over the Chinese Cat's eyes.  Pressing  
Trang's head down on the ground with one claw, Tara lifted  
up her chest off of Trang, and fired a series of punches at  
Trang's breasts.  Not quite lethal snapdragon-level blows, but  
enough to make Trang's body quake under the impact. 
        Trang's legs wrapped around Tara's thighs, and her  
deadly stiletto heels punctured the back of Tara's calf  
muscles.  Tara howled again and stopped her punching.   
Trang's claws raked down her back, and settled in on Tara's  
meaty buns, ripping and digging into bloody flesh.  Tara bit  
Trang's neck in return, and the two hellcats started rolling on  
the floor, biting and clawing each other's skin to pieces for at  
least a minute. 
        The lethal catroll ended when Trang grabbed hold of  
Tara's head and slammed it against the ground.  She rolled  
away, and got on all fours, in an attempt to stand up.  Tara's  
stiletto heel stabbed into her right thigh.  This time, Trang's  
catcall of pain echoed throughout the cage.  The audience in  
the stands were going berserk once again. 
        With great effort, Trang removed Tara's knife-like  
heel from her bleeding leg and tossed it to the other side of  
the cage.  By that time, Tara had leapt on top of her back.   
She smashed Trang's head into the ground twice before the  
Chinese femizon had her arms braced to stop it.  Tara's legs  
locked around Trang's.  The Filipina's beefy arms wrapped  
around Trang's shoulders, executing a nelson.  Tara's hands  
cupped Trang's head, one on the chin, the other on the top of  
her skull. 
        She spoke to Trang, and even through the roar of the  
crowd, I could hear what she said.  I was the only one in the  
world who could have known what she had said, as well as  
Trang. 
        "You die now, Trang,"  Tara must have hissed.   
"Just like Helen!" 
        The Filipina wrenched Trang's head to the right,  
trying to snap it.  But her nelson around Trang's shoulders  
didn't allow her the right kind of leverage.  She wrenched  
again, but it failed to snap Trang's neck.  Again.  A look of  
deathly pain from Trang's mouth as she grimaced, but no  
death, as she fought Tara with all her strength. 
        The crowd, sensing a death, were all on their feet,  
yelling like crazy. 
        Frustrated, Tara roared and rolled over on her back,  
dragging Trang on top of her.  She was trying to shift Trang  
around in order to get more leverage.  Trang's legs wrestled  
away from Tara's, and her stiletto heels jammed down again,  
hoping to puncture Tara's feet.  But the Filipina quickly  
moved her legs out of the way, and the heels shattered on the  
concrete floor.  Trang quickly kicked them off and continued  
to leg wrestle Tara. 
        Tara's claws were biting into Trang's breasts. Trang  
yelled her desperation scream, and hurled her head back into  
my "ex-wife's" nose.  The move stunned Tara enough for  
Trang to sit up.  The Chinese femizon sat on her knees, rivers  
of sweat and blood running off her bare back, down her  
beautiful buns, on to the ground.  The tigress tattoo on her  
butt seemed like it was leaping off her skin, when you saw the  
rhythm of Trang's pulse when she was in this kind of battle.   
        She was getting ready to punch Tara's cunt... 
        ...when Tara's body jerked upward and launched a  
snapdragon punch upward at Trang's face.  Trang fell  
backward, hoping to dodge it.  But the blow hit her smack in  
the breastbone.  She went rolling away from Tara like she had  
been hit by a bus. 
        Tara laughed and the crowd was nuts again.  The  
Filipina stood up and quickly limped over to where the  
Chinese fuck fighter rested, on her knees.  Trang's face was  
smashed against the floor and she appeared to be in great  
pain.  I saw Tara's lips mouth her trademark: "Hah!"  She  
grabbed hold of Trang's hair and cocked back her arm for a  
"Thai-killer" punch that was aimed for Trang's neck. 
        Trang's head dodged the death blow at the last  
moment.  Her own arm flashed backward... 
        ...and Trang's own style of snapdragon punch hit  
Tara right in her cunt!  You could see the breath vomiting  
from her lungs as Tara doubled over in pain.  It hurt her too  
much even to scream.  Trang's snapdragon flashed upward  
again, smashing into the Filipina's cheek, twisting Tara's  
head savagely to the side.  This time it was the Filipina's  
body that flew upward, to land in a heap on the concrete  
ground. The Filipina shuddered as she lost the greatest fight  
of her life and went to serve the ultimate Cat Mistress.  Her  
eyes fixated on Trang an instant the instant of her death, and  
rolled lifelessly to the side seconds later. 
        "That,"  I saw Trang whisper, standing over the  
body of her greatest foe, "was for Helen and Gil."  Trang's  
entire body was covered in blood, though not all of it was her  
own.  She wiped away what she could from her face, as she  
left Tara behind, and walked towards the gate exit of the  
arena. 
        The crowd on the tape orgasmed as Trang walked  
out victoriously.  So did I, as I watched the tape on the bed.  It  
felt like an enormous weight, that I had carried around for a  
year, the threat of Tara coming back to enslave me, was now  
off my back forever. 
        I continued watching the tape until the end.  I saw  
Matadora, and the Thai girl with big breasts who Trang had  
dominated in the highlights portion, each come over to kiss  
and hug Trang excitedly.  I saw another alluring woman, who  
I did not recognize, of Japanese descent, come over and  
congratulate Trang with equal enthusiasm. 
        Completely forgetting about my SA oath to forget  
about the Fever, I rejoiced in the news the tape had brought.   
It had to have been sent by Trang!  It was her way of letting  
me know she was alive and all right.  Maybe she had waited  
for a year to let all of wounds, both physical and emotional,  
heal over.  But why was there no letter or note?  Was she still  
so catcrazy as she was the last year in Vegas? 
        Somehow, I managed to work during the next few  
days at our client's site, just stepping through the paces like a  
robot.  There were too many unanswered questions about  
Trang provoking anxiety within me.  The images on the tape  
replayed constantly in my mind, even when I was not  
watching it. The Fever raged in my eyes, sucking in any  
shapely female form and converted it into a catfighting  
fantasy.  My dick stayed semi-hard in my pants all day, until I  
could come back to the hotel at night and watch the tape.   
Two or three times a night, jerking myself off until I could go  
to sleep.  When my dick became too raw to touch, I drank  
myself unconscious.  
        Three days later, I remembered that I had forgotten  
to call Joanne. 
        I rang her up immediately at work the afternoon I  
realized it.  She didn't return my voice-mail message.  I  
called her when I got back to the hotel, but she was not home.   
I left two messages that night, with no return call.  The next  
day I called work and they told me that Joanne hadn't been in  
to work since Monday.  That's when I realized what must  
have happened.  The envelope containing the tape had  
already been opened when I had pulled the tape out of it on  
the plane. 
        Joanne had seen the tape.  Maybe there had been a  
letter inside from Trang, and she had read it. 
        I was convinced the Fever had destroyed my chance  
for a happy life once again. 
 
 
SYNOPSIS:  Gil Versace's addiction, the Cat Scratch Fever, 
resurfaced when someone mysteriously sent him a videotape 
containing the best fights of Catsport 92.  His straight 
girlfriend, Joanne, has seen the tape, and stopped talking 
to Gil while he was back in the Fever's claws in Washington 
D.C.  His life once again shattered, Gil rushes home in an 
attempt to put it back together again. 
 
 
I arrived in San Jose the next day and raced my car to the  
limit along the dark and curvy highway 17 towards Santa  
Cruz.  I pushed the accelerator up to 80 on that dangerous  
mountain.  At times I wanted to just swerve over into the lane  
of oncoming traffic and end all the misery right there.  But  
my curiosity would not allow me to commit suicide.  I nearly  
thrashed my car to pieces, until I had reached my house near  
the beach.   
        I entered the front door and the entire house was  
dark.  A creaky silence of hinges and murmurs filled the  
living room as I walked through it. 
        "Joanne? Joanne!"  I cried out, but there was no  
answer. 
        I went into the master bedroom.  The window was  
open and allowing the seabreeze to puff back the curtains.   
Light from the large moon of the spring equinox fell on the  
naked shoulders of a young Asian woman.  Joanne lay  
underneath her, licking her cunt ravenously. 
        "What the hell is this?"  I blurted out.  "Jesus!" 
        The Asian woman pushed Joanne's head down on  
the pillow, and climbed out of the bed to face me.  She was  
obviously of Japanese descent, and possesed a very short and  
stocky build.  I had seen her hug Trang at the end of the  
Catsport tape.  She put her hands on hips, as if to challenge  
me. 
        "I am Kamiko,"  she stated firmly.  "Your woman  
belongs to me." 
        "Oh, my fucking God!"  A feeling of dread crept up  
my spine.  A Cat had invaded my home and assaulted my  
wife! 
        "Gil, you suck fuck,"  Joanne moaned, pulling the  
bed sheets over her body.  "You sick, sick, dumb-ass  
fuckhead.  Why didn't you ever warn me about your past?" 
        "I believe you know how this works, Gil,"  Kamiko  
stated.  "I challenged Joanne to a fight.  We wrestled, and the  
prize was slavery for a week.  I won your bitch.  There's  
nothing you can do about it.  Except talk to my Mistress."   
She nodded behind my back. 
        "Deja Vu, eh, darling?"  A familiar voice said from  
behind. 
        I turned around.  In the now dimly lit hallway, stood  
Trang.  Her appearance had changed a bit since the Catsport.   
Her body was less bulky.  Her arms and legs had shrunk  
somewhat in muscle size.  She was still buffed and sexy, and  
had let her hair grow down to her neck.  Trang leaned cooly  
against the doorway, wearing a pair of cut-off jeans and tank- 
top t-shirt.  Her arm was draped around a smaller woman's  
shoulders.  The light of the moon danced in Trang's eyes, but  
the expression on her face was a mystery to me. 
        "Whatever you want from me,"  I said breathlessly,  
"leave Joanne out of it." 
        "It's already too late,"  Trang said softly.  She took a  
step out of the shadows.  Her face was faintly smiling at me. 
        "I had kept the tape a secret from you for a week,"   
Joanne said.  Her voice sounded strange.  "I didn't want you  
to know that Trang and her friends were coming here.  I  
wanted to meet them alone, and settle this." 
        Trang's other friend stepped into the light.  She was  
of Hawaiian descent, I could tell by her eyes and skin tone.  
Her body was subtly powerful and graceful as she walked  
slowly towards me in a pair of shorts.  Her breasts were  
protruding outward through her white t-shirt.   I had no doubt  
she was also a catfighter.  It seemed like I had seen her from  
some place before, but I could not remember where. 
        I had flickerings of arousal, but I was also extremely  
alarmed.  I knew we were in a bad spot, surrounded by four  
extremely deadly catfighters. 
        "Don't come any closer,"  I ordered at the Hawaiian.   
She stopped, and removed her shirt.  Two breasts, oh  
so big and perfectly shaped.  I repressed the urge to reach out  
and suckle them that instant. 
        "Don't be alarmed, Gil,"  Trang's soft voice replied.   
"If I had wanted to hurt you, I could have done so a long time  
ago.  And I wouldn't need to use Kianu." 
        Kianu!  Of course.  The star of the famous cable-tv  
fitness program.  A tit, leg, and ass show legitimized under  
the guise of weight lifting and cross training.  My favorite  
program, until I joined Sexaholics Anonymous. 
        "THE Kianu?"  I was so stunned that I momentarily  
forgot my fear. 
        "I knew you lusted after her.   I did, too.  I sought  
her out in Malibu and challenged her.  Now she belongs to  
my Catpack."  Trang replied, walking over to the bed.  She  
unbuckled her pants.  They fell away into the shadows,  
exposing her bare cunt. 
        Kianu stepped out of her shorts, and started walking  
towards me again. 
        I started to step backward, but Kamiko's hand gently  
touched my spine.  
        "There's nothing left to lose, Gil,"  Joanne said,  
pulling Trang's tank top off her head.  "I'm part of their  
Catpack now." 
        Anger and righteous resentment exploded within me.   
"So, you decided to come here and claw the Fever into  
Joanne's mind!  I guess this is payback time for my sins, huh?   
For what I did to you with Morgan?" 
        "No, Gil!"  Joanne said, sitting up naked on her  
knees, still in the bed.  "It's not like that.  I've had this,  
Fever, you call it, for most of my life!  It was a secret that I  
kept from you all this time.  Didn't you notice all those  
scratches and bruises on my leg that kept popping up?  It  
wasn't mountain biking, honey.  It was little Linda at the  
office!" 
        Jesus!  My fucking fantasy had been a reality all this  
time, right under my nose.  I started to feel foolish. 
"There's more than one breed of cat,"  Kianu's  
honey-sweet voice, a mixture of Hawaiian and cool  
Californian, spoke as she padded over next to me.  "Up here  
in the business world, they practice a ritual of Corporate  
Catfighting." 
        The Hawaiian megababe held my hand and caressed  
my arm.  She slowly pulled down my chin and kissed me.   
My brain felt a rush, a rush of my blood and endorphins  
racing from my heart to my brain and down to my penis.  I  
felt Kianu's nipples harden as my fingers brushed against her  
breasts. 
        "You chose exactly the same type of woman, as you  
did before, Gil,"  Trang cooed, as Kianu unbuttoned my shirt.   
Kamiko's hands reached around my waist and unbuckled my  
pants.  "You'll always do the same.  You can't escape the  
Fever.  It's in your blood.  I'm certain that we were born that  
way."   
        Kianu and Kamiko pulled off my clothes.   They  
smothered my body with their gentle hands and kisses,  
melting away the shame I had kept for a year.  Trang watched  
us from the bed while Joanne licked her breasts.  I wanted to  
faint from delirious, lustful happiness, but strong little  
Kamiko kept propping me up.  All my reluctance faded from  
my mind, my erection began to grow, and I gave way to all  
the silly, artificial barriers I had planted in my mind over the  
past year. 
        Trang's command was soft:  "Joanne.  You will  
wrestle Kianu.  While we watch you in bed." 
        "I was hoping you would say that!"  Joanne  
exclaimed, giving Trang a kiss before she hopped off the  
mattress. 
        Kamiko pushed me over on the bed.  The orgy of my  
life commenced as Joanne's hands locked against Kianu's,  
and I marveled at their breasts touching as they struggled  
against each other.  I couldn't choose whether I wanted to  
watch them or kiss Trang, so I did both.  My hands fondled  
her beautiful back and hair, and I swear her skin had never  
tasted so good.  She laid down on top of Kamiko, and as  
Kianu straddled over Joanne on the floor, I got reaquainted  
with my old lover.  Trang let me pump her slick ass, while  
she rode Kamiko.  We grew to a shuddering climax, as Kianu  
slowly crushed all the resistance out of my Joanne. 
        I was back in the saddle once again, my droogies,  
and starting to feel proud of it.  I fucked my dick raw inside  
all of them that night.  Every time I stopped they continued,  
licking and loving each other.  The lemon-vanilla cookie  
sandwich of Joanne getting fucked in-between Kianu and  
Kamiko alone kept me going for another hour.  I had just  
about dozed off to sleep, when I awoke to see Kamiko  
pumping Trang's cunt with a strap-dildo, giving her Mistress  
an orgasm in the missionary position.  How could anyone go  
to sleep in this circumstances, my droogies?  I got all hot and  
bothered once more, and dipped my wick into Kamiko's  
sweet little lathered butt.   This stunning catorgy continued  
until the light of dawn, and then it was only through sheer  
exhaustion. 
 
 
"I was really crazy the last time I saw you,"  Trang said to  
me, as we walked alone together along the beach.  The other  
four women had stayed at home to give us some privacy.   
"The stress of fighting for my life was making me as  
animalistic as Buri was.  After you ran out of the room, I felt  
really bad.  I had driven you away, and I had only meant to  
play with you.  After that, I spent some time figuring out what  
my goals were, beyond mere survival." 
        "And what were they?"  I said, looking at her  
through my sun glasses. 
        "There was no way for me to just give it all up.   
Matadora or Tara would have hunted me down somehow.   
My first goal was to save myself.   I had to be a true Cat for a  
while.  It was the only way to win my freedom from  
Matadora,"  Trang replied.  "To win the Catsport and end not  
only Tara's threat to us, but an end to my fighting for my life  
in every match.  After that, my goal was to become a firm, but  
also kind, Mistress of a great Catpack.  A Catpack full of  
beautiful, reknowned women, who would bring me great love,  
sex, property, and wealth." 
        "I'm glad you saw that the savagery was getting out  
of hand.  You don't blame me anymore?  I feel kind of  
responsible for it.  If you had died..." 
        Trang put her hand on my shoulder as we walked.   
She had become gentle, as she had said.  "No, I can't blame  
you anymore.  You gave me the Fever and turned me inside- 
out.  Maybe I would have had a simpler life if I had broken up  
with you after Morgan.  But I can't go back and be Suzy  
Homemaker now.  I am wealthier than I ever thought I would  
be.  My physical and mental abilities are at their peak, and I  
am developing new ones.  I have so much love and sex and  
fulfillment.  You couldn't imagine how much.  And with you,  
that's saying quite a lot!" 
        I laughed.  "But you still do fight...and you don't  
worry about death or permanent slavery? 
        Trang laughed and threw a trail of water at me.   
"Slavery?  You mean to tell me that you are free, living the  
fucking American dream, with your $55,000 a year job and  
$300,000 mortgage!  Ha-ha!  But no, I don't fight for slavery  
or death much anymore.  I'm like Kristi Yamaguchi after she  
won the fucking Olympics!  My career's gone backward to  
pure wrestling.  Hollywood babe-a-lons, who know me from  
Luna, want to sharpen their skills or prove their mettle  
against a real wrestler.  We get in the ring and wrestle for  
submission, the two of us de-clawed, but still full of catfury.   
In those types of matches, I can't even throw a punch, for fear  
of ruining a nose job.  But the money is fantastic!  Once in a  
while, I might lose, and have to play "maid" for a week or  
two.  Don't let those bimbos fool you--they can be pretty  
tough. They've had to claw through so many actresses for the  
better roles.  Some of the rich and famous women of the  
world can be pretty rough, too.  My favorite ones to challenge  
me are those exercise bimbos on TV who want to be real  
athletes!  Anyway, death isn't such a worry anymore.  Every  
once in a while, I risk it when I have to, but not that often." 
        "Your Catpack, you live with them...you must have  
a home?" 
        "Yeah!  We live in Cabo." 
        "You stayed in Matadora's home town, eh?" 
        "I am staying in Matadora's hacienda!" 
        "She's part of your Catpack, too?" 
        "Yep!"  She kicked water up at me, and I chased her  
along the beach. 
        I caught up to Trang, even though she was laughing  
and not trying very hard.  I threw her down gently on the  
sand.  "Why are you here?" 
        Trang pulled my head down and kissed me.  "I  
wanted to clear the air between us.  I didn't want to leave our  
relationship ending...the way that it did.  And..." 
        I kissed her deeply on the mouth, over and over.  "I  
can't help myself, Trang.  I still love you.  I loved you, even  
when you hurt me!"  I quickly shut up then.  I had said too  
much. 
        Trang ran her fingers through my hair and looked  
softly in my eyes. 
        "Come with us,"  Trang said,  "Come and live with  
me and the Catpack in Cabo.  Joanne can come along, too.   
She already said that she will go, if you do." 
        I was stunned and totally unprepared for her offer.   
"What?  And leave all this?" 
        "What?"  Trang asked.  "A shitty job and a beach  
that's too fucking cold to take a piss in without a wetsuit!" 
        "The last time I lived with a Catpack, if you recall, it  
didn't turn out too good for me.  Especially when the majority  
of them were so butch, they'd just as soon cut off my penis as  
take it in their cunts!" 
        Trang laughed and giggled.  She rolled on the sand  
and clutched her side.  "What do you think, Gil, after last  
night?  Matadora is little more lizzie than Kamiko and Kianu.   
But even she will take a nice hard cock once in a while!" 
        I started giggling as well.  "Ok, no problem there!   
What about a job, for chrissake?  Laying on the beach  
everyday is going to get old after a month!" 
        "Gil.  I've got so much money now.  But so little  
time to really put it to use wisely.  I need someone to invest it  
for me, to prepare for the day that I cannot fight any more.   
Someone who will use it to start up small businesses, buy  
stocks and real estate.  I don't have the time!  You're the only  
one with half a brain that I can trust!" 
        Wow.  It started to sound very irresistible, my  
droogies!  "Ok.  Ok.  Ok."  Trang was giggling again.  "What  
if you lose a match to a slutty bitch who hates men, and she  
winds up inherits your property?  I am screwed for the rest of  
my life!" 
        "I don't work it that way anymore.  No matter what  
any other bitch demands, I fight only for myself, and myself  
alone.  My property or slaves are not part of the deal.  I'll  
even guarantee that some of the assets are in your name, for  
your own protection.  And..."  Trang hugged my chest and  
whispered in my ear.  "...you are not my slave, Gil.  Just as I  
am not your slave.  You are my lover." 
        My mind was reeling.  It was all too good to be true.   
Joanne was a catfighter.  Trang, the most exciting woman in  
my life, had returned to her senses and loved me.  I could live  
in a sunny vacation spot in Mexico and fuck five sexy  
megababes.  A period would never be an excuse for a night  
without sex.  I could see women wrestle each other in training  
matches almost everyday until I got tired of it.  I certainly  
wasn't that partial to my job, even though I didn't hate it.   
There had to be a flaw!  I kept searching for one. 
        "C'mon, Gil!  Say yes!  I know you want to." 
        Was it really such a healthy idea to return to the  
Fever?  Which seemed even hotter than before?  I almost lost  
my life and sanity the last time.  The fear welled up inside me  
as I considered my answer... 
 
"...and so all of the women, Trang, her slaves Kamiko and  
Kianu, as well as my fiancee Joanne, all left for Cabo this  
morning.  I stayed behind.  Now I'm full of so much anxiety,  
I think I'll burst!  I have fallen so far off the wagon.  I don't  
think I will ever get back on!" 
        The men in the Sexaholics Anonymous meeting sat  
on wooden chairs, in a circle, facing me.  Bullets of sweat  
dribbled down the foreheads as I concluded my story. 
        "You are one tough motherfucker!"  Joe H.  said. 
        "I don't think I'm that strong."  Bob A. commented. 
        "You did the right thing,"  Sammy S., who I called  
Sammy Shit, my SA sponsor, replied.  "You remembered the  
first step of SA, which, quite correctly, in your case, says, 'I  
admitted that I am completely powerless over female  
wrestling and catfighting--that my life had become  
unmanagable because of it.'  You are ready for step two!" 
        "You must GIRD yourself!"  Karl M., an elder in the  
local church, said.  "The devil, in the guise of these women,  
will come for you once again.  Memorize Romans 15:1-7.  It  
will bring the Holy Spirit inside your heart to protect you!" 
        "Fellas!"  I exclaimed, smiling broadly at all of  
them.  "I think you have gotten the wrong idea.  You see,  
when I said I had fallen off the wagon, it wasn't a confession.   
It was a statement!" 
        Karl the elder gasped, realizing my intent. 
        "You won't be seeing me in Silicon Valley  
anymore,"  I continued, "because while you are stuck in this  
musty old church basement, moaning about guilty you feel  
about playin' with your joystick over some Pamela Sue  
Anderson pics on the Internet, I'm going to be living the high  
life in Cabo San Lucas!  I'm gonna be fuckin' these  
megababes every night, two at a time, in the mouth, in the  
cunt, in the ass, then I'm gonna watch 'em fuck each other!   
And if I got energy left, I'll have Trang call in a couple more  
of those bitches to do the same!" 
        A stunned silence permeated the basement as the  
men in the group picked their jaws up off the ground. 
        "Gil, don't do this,"  Sammy S. pleaded.  "You don't  
really want to.  You came here because you want help..." 
        "Naw!"  I responded.  "I came here because I wanted  
to give you guys these."  I pulled some photographs out of my  
wallet and passed them around.  Photos of Trang and her  
Catpack in some tantalizing bikinis.  "You see, after you guys  
fall of the wagon, which we'll probably be as soon as you get  
home..."  I continued passing out the photos, giving the one  
where Kianu fucked Kamiko's ass with a strap-on dildo, to  
Elder Karl.  "...you might realize what a bucket load of  
foolishness this program really is.  And I want to recommend  
a therapy to cure you, to relieve your guilt over your sexual  
lusts, that really works wonders.  Come down to Cabo and see  
two of these megababes wrestle each other in their bikinis!   
I'll cut you a fantastic deal!  No sexual intercourse with  
them--that's reserved for yours truly--but I should be able to  
hook you up with some local specialists in the area!" 
        "Aw, fuckit,"  Bob A. muttered.  "There goes my 60- 
day coin of sexual sobriety!" 
        "Satan!"  Karl spurted, throwing the picture away.   
"Get thee away from me!"  He closed his eyes and started  
praying. 
        "OK, one of you lucky sons of bitches gets another  
free picture!"  I replied, stepping outside the circle.  "My new  
phone number is written on the back of each photo, in case  
you should need my services.  Now, while the rest of you are  
at the post-meeting party at Denny's, slugging back coffee  
sludge and patting yourselves on the back for not firing your  
penis pistol, I'm gonna be at the Irish Lantern, tying one on!   
All of you guys who are on the AA plan are welcome to join  
me!" 
        I opened the door, taking a step outside into the cool  
night air.  I could already hear the catcalls from down south,  
even though the SAers could not.  Tomorrow I would begin  
my car trip down there, to the catfighting heaven of Cabo.   
But I couldn't resist one last jab at the mind-control group  
that had almost robbed me of my new harem. 
        "Hasta La Vista, mi amigos!" 
 
 
 
/\/\ The Raven /\/\ 
May 1995 - April 1996 
 
 
 
.