It had always been my fantasy to have a harem of Catfighters. While my conscience vomited at staying with Tara, my lust wanted me to stay to see this fantasy come to life.
The Filipina lusted for an American Catpack of her own, too. She desired blondes and atheletic American women with big breasts, attributes that were admired but hard to find in Asia. But for Tara, they had to be strong and tough as well as sexy. The first few American women that she fought in Vegas did meet her criteria.
We had moved into a two-level house, with four bedrooms, a living room and den, and a two-car garage. Tara’s first assignment for me was to stock the garage 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 set up another room 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. We were doing a brisk business there, as my fellow droogies 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.
Tara had me furnish the other two rooms with beds and accessories. “For Catpack,” she mentioned. “Now you find great women, who can fight Tara, and not die.”
I began to search for a fighter who could take out Tara. During the hours of watching video tapes ordered from all over North America, from the Ozark wrestling league to the Canucks Kickfighting club, I realized that this could be my way out of this mess.
If I chose the right Amazon, who could make Tara submit to her in battle, she could order Tara to release me. Tara’s slaves would automatically become the property of the new Mistress, and she could order them to return the blackmail photos or destroy them.
When I first saw the tape of Ina, I thought I might have found the right woman.
Ina was a bodybuilder from Seattle. She starred in many tapes from this one company, tapes of wrestling and boxing matches between her and other megababes, which did not look staged. A Cory Everson wanna-be, Ina was a tall statuesque beauty, with blonde hair, broad muscular shoulders, and big tits that had to be the result of a boob job. She was tough as hell and seemed to love a challenge on the mat or in the ring. I could tell from the grin on her face in the tapes that Ina derived a kinky sexual pleasure out of winning her fights.
Just Tara’s type. And mine, too.
“Get her over here,” Tara said, after we had watched the tape. “I want this blonde.” She was so horny just watching the tape, I had to fuck her right afterwards.
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 the Filipina. “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, and blood spurted 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.”
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 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. “Tara handle this.”
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.
Buri’s heavy breasts swayed in the air as she advanced towards Tara, hands stretched below her waist, 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 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 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.