Belle and Rina: The Catfight by BCW8

The car turned and dove into a private underground car park, gliding through the subterranean darkness to the lift doors. It pulled away with the same anonymous efficiency as the threesome disembarked. Jay pressed the call button and opened his mouth as if to speak but Rina didn’t allow him the chance.

The whore’s head whipped sideways, her hair across her face as the wife viciously slapped her.

The evening had been a slow waltz of hate between the two women. Their evening of licentious competition had brought them to multiple orgasms and utter loathing of each other. Sex wasn’t enough alone now. They needed more. The lift arrived as Belle touched her flaming cheek. Physically, it would take them up, a private ride to a penthouse flat. Symbolically, it was a dark transformation, Charon’s ferry across River Acheron, a Dante-esque descent.

Belle slapped Rina in return, her arm like a bullwhip. The wife’s small sound of pain would have made Belle wet if her pussy hadn’t been a fragrant hothouse all evening.

“Let’s go in, shall we?” said Jay. “And once the door closes…..”

He stood in a back corner as they ignited.

They tore at each other’s elegant cocktail dresses as they careened across the small space, ripping open necklines to get at the flesh beneath. Bared breasts spilled free, still coated with his cum, as their bodices bunched at their waists. Rina slammed Belle into a wall and raked a claw along the outer curve of her breast, dragging it up and into its sister, turning her at the waist. Belle shrieked as Rina’s nails caught on her nipple, and the savage sound reverberated. She slapped both hands into Rina’s upper chest and slashed down, buckling her forward at the waist as five furrows sprang to life, livid lines of longitude down her breasts.

The barrier of their hips was harder to overcome, but the fabric of their dresses was weaker than their burning bloodlust, their desperate desire to strip each other. The lift bore them upward as they cursed, and spat, and tore at each other. Almost forgotten, Jay watched them from only a yard away. He thought of the conversation he and Rina had on the night before.

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“You know what I want,” Rina had purred as she arched beneath him. “At the Bacchanalia.” He nodded, slowly stroking into her. He loved her when she was like this; when she indulged herself, her inner cat.

“Last year, though. Too easy,” he said.

She bit her lip at that. The sleek black woman she had chosen had not been her equal. He had watched Rina fuck her into a sobbing submissive wreck without much resistance. There was little pleasure to be found in subjugating the weak. Rina nodded.

“A challenge,” she gasped as he went deep into her at the word.

“Someone capable of beating you,” he pushed, even deeper. Her head went back at the thought. Her nipples bulged.

“Someone who’ll fight,” she moaned.

********************************************************

Jay had noticed Belle within minutes of arriving at the Bacchanalia. He watched her from a distance as she seductively sucked off a famous member of the Arsenal squad. She was beautiful, and she carried herself with supreme confidence. He was immediately enamored with her. He guided his wife to her; Rina fondled him possessively as she studied Belle, and at last nodded. It was an instant rivalry between the two women. Their sexual clash was intense and orgasmic, but ultimately unsatisfying.

It primed them, though. It made them into dry tinder. It created a pool of simmering violence like spilled petrol awaiting a match.

Belle ripped Rina’s dress through from the bottom of its zipper and shoved it down the brunette’s slender legs, forcing her hand between her thighs. In the club she had roughly finger-fucked Rina to two savage orgasms but now her intent was pain and only pain. She raked her nails along Rina’s pussy then gripped her labia and twisted. Rina screamed and surged into Belle, the two of them catapulting across the lift car to crash into the opposite wall. She jammed her hands into the undercurves of Belle’s breasts, lifting them and embedding her nails. For a long agonizing moment, they were frozen there, nose-to-nose, both panting in pain. Jay watched in fascination as the remnants of Belle’s dress slowly slid down her legs.

Belle twisted her grip on Rina’s pussy again, her other hand embedded in her scalp. They turned together along the wall, nearly stumbling as their feet tangled in Belle’s discarded dress. Rina was pinned to the lift door now, her face contorted in pain. She had Belle’s breasts but Belle had her pussy and the blonde bore in.

“Can’t take it?” Belle hissed through clenched teeth. “We’re not even to your fucking flat yet.”

Prophetic words. The lift opened and they spilled out, going to the floor, their holds broken. Jay followed, undressing himself now, as the two women, nude but for their heels and jewelry, clashed again, their bodies colliding like magnets within each other’s field. Locked together like this, legs intertwined, breasts crushed together, their backs became artists’ canvases for their manicured nails. Livid scratches sprang up like stigmata, criss-crossing. Rina clawed savagely at Belle’s ass. Her nails were knives.

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“How?” Jay led Rina deeper into her fantasy as he slow-fucked her. She writhed under him, her pussy squeezing him hungrily.

“You want to see claw marks,” her voice was husky and harsh. “I’ll stripe her.”

He thought of the riding whip in her closet, but held his tongue. She was close to climaxing.

“A catfight,” he said. “Nude. She’ll go for your tits.” He deliberately chose crude, blunt words. He purposefully thrust hard into her at the final word so that her breasts jolted from the force of it. Her moan was a sound of pure erotic lust.

“I’ll go for hers.”

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They broke apart, and clashed together; broke apart, and clashed. Despite his previous orgasms, Jay was hard as stone. The beautiful courtesan that he had chosen screamed as his wife did indeed go for her tits. But oh, she was a match for Rina! She gave back all she got. Both of them gleamed with sweat in the half-light of the flat. Their torsos were covered with claw-marks now, some deep enough to weep blood. Both were panting for air, their breasts and bellies heaving. Neither woman showed any sign of fear or retreat or even caution.

No. They were fully aroused. Their eyes glowed. Their pussies were visibly wet and aromatic in the still air. They fought to their feet only to crash wildly into furniture, into walls, into anything. Their stiletto heels caught on rugs, and clacked on hardwood as they staggered in crazed circles.

Belle buried a hand in Rina’s short dark hair, and rained slaps into her, the side of her face, her ear, her side, her breasts. Oh, especially her breasts. She bent Rina forward and slapped up into them. Her own breasts bounced wildly with the force of her swings. Her palm left livid marks on Rina’s skin. Rina clawed at Belle’s arm. She raked her body. But doubled over, she did less damage. Her sobs began to mix with the cruel sound of Belle’s vicious blows.

“You think you’re fucking better than me?” Belle snarled at her. “Fucking alpha wife? Fucking trophy bitch?” She sank both hands into Rina’s scalp and dragged her stumbling forward into the kitchen. Belle had known girls and women like Rina her entire life. Hateful snobs who paraded the diamonds that their men gave them as gifts while simultaneously paying for the sex they really wanted instead of the charade of married life. She banged Rina’s skull into the refrigerator door. She twisted her and pushed her tits-first into it, now wrenching one of her arms behind her back.

“I’m better than you,” she hissed into Rina’s ear. “At least my life isn’t a lie.” Still twisting Rina’s arm, she released her hair and sank that claw into her taut ass cheek, digging into the muscle. “How many of your friends at the tennis club do you think he’s fucking? How many whores like me is he buying?”

Rina jerked, and screamed, as Belle stabbed a finger between her cheeks and through her star, forcing it into her. “Your man is watching me take your ass,” Belle purred. “And he’s so fucking hard!” She pulled her finger free and threw her shoulder into the center of Rina’s back, squashing her breasts against the refrigerator. Their marks of sweat and body oil were smeared on the stainless steel veneer when Belle spun her away and bent her forward over the kitchen island. This time, her hand stabbed deep into Rina’s pussy. “Your ass is much tighter, bitch.” Belle taunted as her nails gouged and Rina shrieked.

Jay stood at the open entryway as his wife was savagely womanhandled. He had bent her over in the same spot many times, and often roughly. But what Belle was doing to her was no comparison. The front of Rina’s hips slammed into the unyielding island. Her breasts dragged on its top. Her face was a twisted mask of pain. She lifted one foot, and Belle bore deeper into her with cruel glee, until Rina slammed the same foot down into the top of her foot like spearing a knife into a cut of meat. Belle pitched backwards with a banshee scream, her back now smearing the refrigerator door. Rina pivoted, her arm already in motion, and whipped a backhand across Belle’s mouth that turned the blonde sideways. A second backhand twisted her the opposite way. She hung there, dazed, as Rina slashed her nails over her breasts again.

The shock of yet another mauling seemed to galvanize Belle. She slapped Rina’s breast, a looping uppercut into its underside. She lunged forward into the brunette, shoulders thrown back, simply punching her breasts into Rina’s, staggering her back against the island again. Rina rebounded with her own tit-smash, crushing Belle’s breasts under hers, driving her reeling back into the living room.

Rina had both hands in Belle’s hair when they hit the back of the heavy sofa, and she used the leverage to bend the blonde back over it. It was a stunning tableau – Belle arched in dramatic display, her head dragged back to the limit. Her throat was fully exposed, veins and tendons rigid. Her breasts were thrust up and out, gravity tugging them to the side. A particularly nasty nail-slash bisected one areola. Her belly was drawn tight, her back arched over the fulcrum of the sofa’s top edge. Her feet barely touched the floor.

“Now, bitch,” Rina snarled. She was stretched like a cat herself, bent over Belle, one leg up on the sofa’s back, holding the blonde’s head wrenched back with one hand now. She curled her free hand into a raptor’s talon, and exacted cruel revenge for how Belle had humiliated her at the club, in the limo, in the lift, in the kitchen. Belle beat at her tormentor blindly and largely impotently, screaming as the brunette raked her breasts, cross-hatching them, digging at her nipples. She shuddered in pain as a claw sank into her belly, fingers plowing deep into her strained abs. Jay moved closer, choosing his spot carefully at their heads, his erection thick in their peripheral vision.

“You want my husband’s cock? Fuck you, bitch.” Rina spat words in furious frenzy. Belle choked on sobs as her foe’s nails slashed at her pussy. “I’ll maim your moneymaker, whore. I’ll fucking bankrupt you.”

In desperation, Belle lifted her legs, drawing her knees up above her hips. The shift in her center of gravity was just enough to tip them both over the sofa’s back onto its seat, then to tumble to the floor. Belle landed hard on her stomach and Rina crashed across the blonde’s back.

Rina was relentless now. She had tasted Belle as helpless and she wanted more. Laying perpendicular across Belle’s back, she scissored the blonde’s left arm between her legs and then locked her hands across her upper face. Belle moaned as Rina dragged her head back. Her free hand scrabbled uselessly at the carpet as her spine arched, her breasts lifting just free of the floor.

“So proud of your tits, aren’t you,” Rina’s breath was harsh and panting. “Got his cum all over them in the car. Want to brag now?” She pulled back another inch and Belle whimpered in pain. Rina almost moaned herself. Dominating Belle was incredibly arousing. She looked at Jay and he came to them, kneeling at Belle’s strained shoulder. “Touch me,” Rina purred, “and describe her tits to me.”

Jay slipped his hand between Rina’s thighs above Belle’s trapped arm. Rina pulled Belle’s head back another inch as his fingers circled her clit.

“Her breasts,” Jay said, and Belle sobbed at the sound of his voice. “They are red ….. covered with slashes ……. her nipples are swollen and cut ……. she looks like she’s been punished …… mauled by a better cat.”

Belle heard Rina’s gasp and the wet sound of Jay’s hand working. She felt Rina writhing on her, the jerking that rippled through the brunette to her grip across her face. She suffered with helpless humiliation as Rina climaxed atop her.

She burned with hate.

“Ask her, Jay,” Rina said, her voice still unsteady from the violence of her orgasm. “Ask her if she’s had enough. Tell her that all she has to do is submit.”

“Fuck you,” Belle forced the words through clenched teeth.

“Oh,” Rina said. “I was hoping that you wanted more.”

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Rina always came when they made love, but it was times like this, when they savagely fucked, that she climaxed hardest. And now, tonight, as he urged her, she came so many times that it blurred in her mind.

“Will you make her submit?”

God, Yes. But not quickly. Oh no. Not a quick shattering. A slow suffering. That way she truly knows.

“You will prove you are better than she is.”

The thought of him watching that. God.

“What if you can’t? What if she won’t submit? What if ….. She’s better.” Again he drove deepest into her as he made her look into that tortured mirror.

No no no no no

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Rina rolled, keeping Belle’s arm trapped between her legs. As she pulled the blonde across her, reversing their positions, she captured her other arm, wrapping it under her own. Belle was on her back now, her head and shoulders across Rina’s body. Rina flexed her hip to force the blonde’s chest up from below as she pulled her arms down to the floor, a rough crucifixion. Belle’s head lolled back, her hair fanned around her like a halo, her breasts pulled tight. Another tableau; another display.

“How much?” Rina asked her. “How much do you think you can bear?” She dragged her nails lightly over Belle’s jutting nipple. Belle closed her eyes, telling herself not to scream.

But scream she did, as Rina’s fingers dug cruelly in.

The wife’s words lashed her too. Whore. Slut. Words designed to make her Less. To tell her that humiliation and contempt were her lot in life. That she was not the woman that Rina was.

Belle refused to accept this. She clung to the fraying threads of her pride. She vowed to herself that she would not submit.

No matter what? her mind asked in response, in Rina’s voice.

Jay watched Rina’s frustration mount as Belle shuddered in her control but refused to submit to her. She released the blonde’s breast, her fingers cramping, then gripped it again. Belle jerked, and moaned. But she took it, and she refused to quit.

“Rina,” he said. “Enough.”

Belle shook her head even before Rina did. “No,” she gasped. Rina’s reaction was pure fury. She slapped Belle’s breast, a vicious shot that spread it across the blonde’s ribcage. She turned her hip even more beneath Belle, whose head hung fully back now, the very top of her skull brushing the carpet. Rina slapped her breast again, and again.

“SHE has to say it!” Rina shrieked. “NOT YOU!”

The only sounds as her words faded were the rasping breath of the two women.

Rina released Belle, kicking at her as she rolled to her side. Belle laid curled, cradling her battered breast. Rina slowly stood. Jay tried to gather her to his chest but she pushed him away. “You wanted me to prove it,” she said to him. “It’s only proven if she says it.”

She bent and twisted her fingers in Belle’s hair, pulling her to her hands and knees. “You picked her because you want to fuck her,” she said, without looking at Jay. “And you still want to fuck her.” She dragged the blonde with her, a shambling knee-walk, to his discarded slacks left across a chair. She forced Belle’s face into the seat cushion and pinned her there with a knee on her hair, as she salvaged his belt and looped it around Belle’s throat, pulling it tight into a choke-collar and leash.

“Jesus, Rina,” Jay breathed as she dragged Belle across the room, the blonde desperately unable to crawl fast enough, the collar pulled high up under her jawline, the leather biting deep into her throat. He followed them into the bedroom to find Belle stretched across the bed on her back, her head thrown back off the edge, displayed yet again. Rina knelt by her head, pulling the belt tight.

“You came on her tits in the car, Jay.” Rina’s voice was deadly. “More than mine. Why don’t you cum on her tits now? She won’t mind.”

Jay started forward, but without knowing what he would do.

In that moment, Belle reached up, and raked her nails across Rina’s eyes.

Rina spun away with a chilling cry of shock and pain. Belle threw herself the other way, pulling at the belt around her neck, sucking in air. They lay apart on the bedroom floor, the bed between them, the sudden silence ticking like a bomb.

“You cunt,” Belle rasped, her voice raw. “You fucking cunt.” She threw the belt across the floor toward Jay. “I hope I fucking blinded you!”

Rina laughed in response, a soft mad humorless laugh. Her eyes were red, and blurry, but she could see. She could see the future.

“Meet me on the bed, whore,” she said. “Let’s finish this.”

Their nails dug into the duvet as they mounted it. The headboard banged against the wall as they flung themselves together. Belle bore Rina down, spreading her legs with her own. Their clits clashed violently, and both women’s minds flashed back to their earlier sexfight at the club. It seemed almost a game now. Rina twisted savagely, throwing Belle off, to the edge of the bed, then clawing her back into a fresh clinch.

Belle went for her eyes again. Rina wrenched her face away, but not before the blonde’s thumbnail sliced her cheekbone. This small involuntary retreat gave Belle an opening, and she bulled Rina backwards into the headboard. Rina was sprawled under her in a half-sitting position, her mouth open in shock, as Belle’s fingers cut off her air. Belle locked out her arms as she choked the brunette, leaning forward, her knees braced wide, her ass tilted up.

“Come fuck me now, Jay,” Belle half-purred, half-snarled. “I want you inside me when she goes unconscious.”

********************************************************

“If she does … if she is better ….. will you go to her?”

They lay together in bed, lingering in the musky aftermath. Rina kissed his stomach, and took him softly in her mouth. Even now, after she had milked him, he thickened.

“Shouldn’t I?”

If I won’t go to her, have you even risked anything? If humiliation is at stake, isn’t it only fair?

Rina nodded.

********************************************************

Rina watched him dully as he mounted the bed. Over Belle’s shoulder, she saw his erection as he drew it between Belle’s sweat-slick ass cheeks. She saw the blonde’s face change, her eyes close, her lip pulled between her teeth. Rina felt it; the added pressure on her throat, as Jay entered Belle. His abs against her ass.

She couldn’t breathe.

Belle’s eyes opened. Rina saw triumph in them.

“No longer yours,” Belle purred. Not because she wanted him; just because she wanted to take from Rina. Rina felt every thrust, like crunching footsteps in broken glass. She couldn’t break Belle’s choke. She couldn’t reach her face.

She could reach her swaying breasts. She could still make the whore scream.

Even through the airless roaring in her ears, she heard the whore scream.

Jay gripped Belle’s waist just above her hips. The triangle of her back was so perfect, criss-crossed with nail marks, muscles rigid, her hair across her tensed shoulders. Her pussy was incredible, hot tight wet silk. He felt her shudder when Rina’s fingers sank yet again into her breasts. He felt her tighten on him as her body clenched.

Breathless. Pain. Pleasure.

A fragile triangle. A bubble that has to burst.

Her strength fading, Rina shoved up and out, her thumbs embedded in Belle’s nipples.

Belle broke. It was too much, the pain. She released her choke, gripping Rina’s wrists, desperate for it to end.

Jay slipped out of Belle, as Rina drew a great shuddering breath and threw the blonde aside.

For an eternity, the two women lay still, side-by-side. At last Rina reached for Belle’s hair.

“Please no,” Belle sobbed, a broken whisper. “Enough. No more. Please.”

“It’s too late for that,” Rina whispered back. She pulled Belle to her, onto her chest. Her legs circled the blonde woman’s waist. Her arm wrapped around her throat.

Belle’s lips moved again, but her plea was silent, the formed words airless. Rina squeezed, and squeezed, until finally Belle went limp in her vise.

Rina continued to squeeze. Hate is difficult to spend in its entirety. “Rina,” said Jay at last. “Enough. You won. Stop.”

Rina shoved the unconscious whore to the floor and pulled her husband to her. It hurt to have him inside her, but she nonetheless convulsed with climax as he thrust into her, as she claimed his cum.

********************************************************

“Then I won’t lose,” Rina said. “I won’t.”

********************************************************

When Belle came to, the belt was around her neck again. Rina tugged, and Belle crawled at her command to heel, on all fours, her hair across her face, her eyes down. Rina led her submissively to the rainforest shower. The blonde stretched across the Italian marble tiles as the warm water washed over her. Still holding her leash, Rina knelt across Belle’s face. Now the rejuvenating water streamed over her and she tilted her face up to it.

“Fuck me with your mouth, whore,” she purred, and Belle obeyed her new mistress.

*******************************************************

She took time to heal. At first, she ignored his texts, because the humiliation was too fresh. When she relented, it was because her curiosity had grown and her pain had shrunk to a hard knot in her heart. He came to her and then became a regular client, eventually visiting once a week.

She fucked him with a heat like no one else she serviced, because of course it wasn’t really about him, was it? It was her small revenge.

The first step of it, at least.

Belle and Rina: The Catfight by BCW8