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. **(see note at bottom)
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.”
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 the other 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!