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Catscratch Fever: Prelude and Chapter 1 by The Raven

Prelude

Have you ever tried to give up an addiction to Catfighting, my droogies?

I’ve gone three months without watching bikini clad megababes grapple and fight for my viewing pleasure. I’ve tried to refrain from thinking, remembering, or fantasizing about it. I’ve even gone six days without masturbating. The brothers in my Sexaholics Anonymous group say this is the only way. But in my dreams, I recall the past, and often wake up to find my dick pointing at the cottage cheese ceiling. On those days, when I am lucky, I can just manage to jump into the cold shower and smother the flames of the Fever, temporarily.

Oh, I have had my doubts about the Cat Scratch Fever. That lustful desire to see two women fight each other madly for the pleasure of men. Is it an addiction, as my S.A. sponsor, Bob A, claims? Or does the A in his name simply represent Asshole? If so, then there may be little that I can do, if indeed I was born with the Fever in my blood.

He claims that I will see the light if I just begin the first step of the program: to document the progression of my illness. To show myself and others the symptoms of my self-destruction. To confess everything that has happened.

I have procrastinated this step as long as I could, droogies. I told Mr. Anonymous Asshole that I was sick for a couple of weeks. Then work had me chasing my tail for a while. Finally, I stopped taking Bob’s calls and decided to quit going to S.A.

That seemed wise, until one day I was walking along the Boardwalk and I thought I saw HER.

I could tell she was an Asian woman from the rear. Not that Asian’s have a particular butt-type. No, it’s the hair that’s a dead giveaway. The sleek, silky, black hair that shines with the reflection of the sun.

This particular woman had that, and a muscular build. I could tell she worked out quite a bit. The way her sexy body walked down the planks seemed familiar to me. I just knew it was her. She was alive, and had tracked me down at last.

“Trang!” I shouted, grabbing the woman’s arm, and whipping her body around to face me.

An unknown face looked at me in astonishment. “Ow! What the hell are you doing?”

“Sorry. Thought you were…” I couldn’t finish. Ashamed, I had to run away, back to my car. My heart was threatening to burst out of my chest after I had started the ignition.

I knew I couldn’t go on like this, living in fear. I had to give Bob’s way a try. What the hell did I have to lose?

As you will soon learn from reading my story, I am an egomanical bastard. I can’t just write my story for myself, or for Bob. He’s a repressed homosexual, you see. Embarrassed about taking it up his bum in Castro bathrooms. I doubt he will fully appreciate the nature of my predicament. Nor will the others in the S.A. group. But you, droogies, my sweet wonderful droogies, many of you will be able to relate. You share all of my faults to the letter. So I will share my story with you, on sites like  alt.sex.fetish.wrestling, alt.sex.stories, alt.sex.fetish.orientals, and alt.amazon-women.admirers. You, my faceless but wonderful masses, fans of female combat. Lovers of idyll lust. Wishing for a bit of power and control in your depraved sex lives. You’re just like me.

With one important exception. I made my sexual fantasy come true.

I wanted to see it in person, you see. Watching videos wasn’t enough. Reading cheap magazines, tucked inside a copy of Business Week at Tower Books, was utterly demeaning to my own sense of pride. The stories on the Internet were all fake. I had to witness it in front of my eyes. I was driven by my own lust to make this happen. Even though I was a successful engineer, had a lovely girlfriend, and a promising future, I tossed this all to the side in order for my dream to become a reality.

Bob has advised me not to do it this way. He wants me to keep this confession a private matter. I’ve appeased him somewhat by using a pseudonym for my autobiography. That, along with his need to spread the word of the S.A. gospel, which is, after all, the twelfth step of the program, has convinced him to let me publish my story electronically. Not that he could stop me if he felt otherwise!

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 these two prehistoric babes in wolfskin bikinis are wrestling before an slobbering gathering of cro-magnons. 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. 

Russ Meyer movies such as “Faster, Pussycat, Kill, Kill!” 

The television program, Superwomen of Wrestling (S.O.W.). 

Various cheap magazines like Battling Bimbos. 

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? 

How much time did my employers lose from my fetish? How much money did I cheat myself out of, while I stared at my monitor, pretending to analyze a technical problem, while instead picturing our admin assistant fight the aerobics instructor at my health club?

One fetish alone was not enough for me, my droogies, as you can tell by my wide Internet distribution. By my adult years, I had 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 different from my fantasy life. It was a compromise that 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 had met Trang.

Chapter 1

When the Fever was about to burst into reality, I had no idea real Catfighters actually existed. I just knew that I had to cultivate my own little kitten, when the perfect opportunity had presented itself.

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 blonde about her same height. 

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 such a beautiful physical specimen. 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 hesitation 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 of man. 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 house 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 I backed away to view her reaction.

Trang simply smiled at me. “About time you did that. Jesus, Gil, you’re the slowest man alive!” She grabbed my waist and pulled my body against hers once more.

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.

Six months after our first fuck, we were living together. Over the course of the next few months, our lovemaking became routine. Both of our lives got busier. A promotion at my work required more of my time and attention. Which was fine, as Trang had started her own landscaping service in the suburbs of Austin. We started getting too busy and tired to have sex every night, and soon it dwindled down to once or twice a week. By the time the Fever really did strike us, we were ripe for excitement, both in the bedroom and out of it.

But back at that time, I was just discovering that Trang was the perfect candidate for my little plan. 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. 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 videos that depicted or hinted at lesbian sex, Trang would also get very hot and moist. I knew she had definite BI-sexual hungerings that were repressed by her upbringing.

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 grappling with each other. She chastised me for having such a weird fantasy! But I noted Trang had to watch the video until the match was completed. 

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 to your will and brought her to our bed for us both to ravish?”

Trang moaned as I continued to weave my fantasy in her ear. I saw the Fever’s effect on her for the first time. Trang grinded her hips around my cock and got even more excited. After we came, I tried talking to her about it again.

“Maybe it could really happen. Just get to know Linda a little better and–“

“Don’t be silly,” she said, turning over on her side to sleep. “Things like that don’t happen in real life.”

We continued watching female wrestling and fighting videos together. Our lovemaking became more intense for a while, then leveled off again. 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.

One day as I was driving to work, replaying our fantasies through my mind, I realized that I was so close to igniting the Fever inside of Trang. I had all the ingredients. Repressed BI-sexual desires. A sexual urge to wrestle and fight others. A type-A personality that loved competition and had to win, at any cost. If only I could break through the societal barriers implanted in her mind, there would be an explosion of fury and catlust. 

I needed someone to do this for me. 

A catalyst. 

Some vicious, unscrupulous bitch who would claw the Cat Scratch Fever into my darling Trang!

When I got to work, I immediately made arrangements to fly 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 was summoned 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 Morgan through the agency she worked for, and spelled out my plan. I offered her $5,000 for one weekend’s work, and an extra one grand bonus if she actually got Trang to fuck and wrestle her.

“I’m always up for a challenge,” Morgan said wryly.

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.

“So, how many times have you fucked her?” Trang asked, after Morgan had gone to the restroom.

“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? For God’s sake, 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.

Back in our house, I made some tea for the ladies. 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, droogies!  I told her to dose them lightly, as we couldn’t have Trang going to sleep too soon. I tried not to hold my breath while my darling played with it on her plate. 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 before I went out the door. I saw the look on Trang’s face in response, and my dick started to get hard.

I knew the script that Morgan was about to play out. What little guilt I felt was quelled by the brownie that I had just eaten. I still felt some anxiety as I passed the time in a bar downtown, swigging down beers. Trying not to be afraid of it all blowing up in my face. What if Trang got seriously hurt? Or Morgan? There was the possibility all along that Trang would simply just leave me. But I had to take the risk, droogies. The Fever was running my life at that point. 

When I left the bar, my body was trembling with anticipation.

The house was eerily dark and quiet. I walked hurriedly back to the master bedroom.

The light from the bathroom illuminated the naked women in my bed. Trang was asleep, her head resting on top of Morgan’s belly. The auburn-haired whore was sitting up in bed, smoking a cigarette. The light reflected 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. She slid Trang’s body tenderly off her own, and flipped my lover onto her back gently. As if Trang were a child.

“You did it,” I whispered, unbuttoning my shirt.

“Yesssssss.” Morgan purred, throwing the sheets off her body. She stretched her legs wide and beckoned me to join her.  I tore off my pants, and my hard-on flopped out.

“Let me tell you how I tamed your kitten…” Morgan whispered, touching my hard-on.

“Later,” I whispered back, and started thrusting my hard penis into Morgan. I positioned my body where I could see Trang’s chest, heaving softly as she slept. The thought of her ass getting kicked made me go wild and crazy.  After I had my orgasm, Morgan and I went into the second bedroom. There, she told me the story of what happened while I was gone. Both women had retired to separate bedrooms to undress and get ready for bed. Trang had stripped off her clothes and put on a extra large T-shirt, which came down just below her waist. She had gone into the kitchen, seeking some snacks, as the munchies had attacked her suddenly. Trang was smearing some cool water on her flushed face when Morgan padded into the room.

Morgan was wearing only a white bra and panties. Trang stared at her chest.

“Jesus, your breasts are big!” Trang exclaimed. “I gotta ask you-are they real?”

“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’re a lying little stupid bitch! Gil’s got a fetish for Asian women. He could never–” Trang put down her glass, balling up her fists. “-go for such a cheap white slut!”

“And a chinky slut like you is so great, huh?” 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. It had taken my darling by surprise. Trang tried to pull back, but her feet slipped on the kitchen floor. Morgan dragged Trang 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 in front of her head 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.

“Yippee kai-yay, little Sheba!” Trang’s body was catapulted upward again, her legs crashing into the door frame. “Giddy-yup!” Another somersault forward, and they were in the master bedroom. Morgan released her leg lock on Trang’s neck and pulled the T-shirt off her chest. She left Trang on the floor, naked and panting heavily, while Morgan went into the second bedroom.

Trang was standing up dizzily, when Morgan re-entered the bedroom and deposited her bag of tricks on the night-stand.

“You have one last chance,” Morgan said, holding up her finger. “Submit to me now. 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 clamped both of her wrists in a pair of handcuffs, laced through the bedframe.  Morgan kissed Trang full on the lips. “Relax. Submit to your Mistress.” 

The whore kept kissing and kissing Trang, until her tongue started playing with Morgan’s freely in return.  By the time Morgan had mouthed Trang to a climax, my darling’s hands were unbound and freely stroking the whore’s cunt in return.

“Do you think she left for good?” I asked Morgan after we had eaten brunch the next day. We had fallen asleep after she had told me the story and had fucked excitedly once again.. When we had awoken around noon, Trang was not at home. “God, maybe she’s just freaked out. Maybe she hates me for setting her up!”

“No, I don’t think so,” 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. Discovering that you have BI-sexual tendencies is not easy for some people. Trang’s always thought of herself as being a good and moral person.”

“You think she can deal with it?”

“Oh, she will. After phase two.” She cleared more things out of the center of the living room.

I admired Morgan’s certainty. It had a calming effect. “Wow. You seem to be so sure how Trang is going to react!”

“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 manipulative bastard to seduce them into doing it!”

I started to fondle Morgan once again. My hands played with breasts and massaged her buttocks. I was sitting in my underwear, my hard-on protruding through the thin layer of cotton, making out with Morgan, when the door opened.

Trang stepped into the house. She glared 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, standing up, “that you are history. Pack your bags, Sheba!”

“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. 

Oh, my pretense at shock and dismay did not go far.

My hard-on stiffened and I shifted my weight on the sofa to observe the big event. The fight I had worked so hard to bring about. I stifled a grin as Morgan crouched and circled Trang. I saw the first signs of catlust in Trang’s eyes as she watched Morgan move around the living room.

That’s when the fur started to fly, my droogies. My dream came true at that moment. The first time is always so sweet.  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. Before Trang could take further advantage, Morgan’s legs had 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. 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.

As Trang turned to face Morgan, the whore slapped Trang hard, on the cheek, wrenching my darling’s head to the side. That slap was 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. She appeared to be close to tears. Morgan’s hands grabbed Trang’s hair, and yanked my megababe’s head downward. Trang’s chin crashed into Morgan’s kneecap. Trang let go of Morgan and the two ladies stepped back from each other.

They each took a moment to catch their breaths. I saw the hint of a smile on Trang’s face as she stared at Morgan. Yes! My lover was enjoying this little kinky contest. Maybe I wouldn’t lose her after this was over. I could stroke my penis without guilt!  Trang charged into Morgan. The whore got her with the arm-bar flip maneuver once 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 it up, Trang,” Morgan said. “Or you’ll never walk normally again!”

Trang grimaced and writhed on the floor. She turned her torso slightly. 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.

Morgan was on her hands and knees, trying to stand up. Her neck was smashed 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. The smile now erupting on her face. 

Needless to say, I couldn’t wait to fuck her brains out.

“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 shouted. The smile suddenly evaporated. “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 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 juicy cunt. 

It was a short fuck. The catfighting had been our separate foreplay. 

“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.” 

And for the first time, my droogies, I experienced the thrill of the menage-a-trois. Trang was dominating Morgan, although she hadn’t really known how to do it properly yet. Just a little spanking and pinching. I greedily pumped my cock into both of them, scarcely believing my own good fortune!

My pleasure was nothing, compared to the catcalls I heard emanating from Trang’s lips.

I still had to pinch myself in the morning, though not my cock, my droogies, which was red and raw from the cat orgy. 

“How much did you pay her?” Trang asked me after breakfast. Morgan was in the shower.

“Five grand.” I mumbled.

“What?” Her foot stabbed mine under the table. “You paid too fucking much! I bet she would have done this for half!”

“What was I supposed to do, consult you about hiring a whore? Have you bargain with her on the phone? You never would have gone for it!” Trang was always more financially sensible than me.

“Gil, Gil, Gil. Aieee-yah! Now we have to ride around in your old car for another year. Was it worth it?”

“Judging from the multiple orgasms you had last night, honey, I could almost justify it! Don’t tell me you weren’t super-fucking turned on by what happened.”

She sighed and looked down at her bare legs. “Well, we better get your money’s worth, then.” She stripped off her nightshirt and walked naked 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.

I thought I had enough catfighting from the day before, droogies. I thought it had burnt itself out of me, finally seeing it come to life. But the fire was spreading into my loins again.

That wasn’t a big surprise. 

The real stunner was that Trang liked catfighting so much that she wanted to do it again.

Morgan was barely toweled off when I gave her the challenge. Still damp, she launched her nude body into the living room and started grappling with Trang. Morgan was mad as hell about the previous day. She was used to being the dominatrix. Submitting to another was very uncommon for her. She wasn’t going to pull any punches this time.

This third match went much longer than the first two. Trang lasted about twenty minutes. I could tell she was hungry to experience the conquering of her rival once again. Towards the end of the bout, she had Morgan pinned flat on her back. Sweat was dripping off Trang’s face, onto Morgan’s eyes, stinging them.

“Submit, you little bitch!” Trang commanded, rejoicing in her triumph.

Morgan screamed, and wrenched her legs around Trang’s neck. Her little thighs locked a deadly vice around my lover’s neck and pulled downward. Trang’s body crashed to the carpet, and Morgan quickly grabbed Trang’s arms to immobilize them. The whore’s legs trembled as she increased her pressure on Trang’s neck.

“You’re the one who is going to submit,” Morgan said, whipping her hair out of her face, “totally.”

Trang squirmed and tried to stand up, but Morgan kept wrenching her neck. The leverage was all in Morgan’s favor. Trang started to cough and wheeze. The color in her face turned a burnt pink.

“Give up before you choke to death.”

Trang choked and squirmed again, but it was hopeless. She barely managed to mutter the words, “I submit,” with the last bit of air she had left.

“Who’s your mistress?” Morgan asked, releasing the thigh lock a bit.

“You…are,” Trang wheezed, “Mistress Morgan.”

“Good. Good slave.” Morgan unwrapped her thighs completely, and stood up, massaging her leg muscles. She looked over at me. “Get her a drink of water and towel her off. I’ll be right back!”

I did as she commanded. Trang inhaled the glass of water I gave her in one gulp and asked for another.

“Damn,” she whispered. “I almost had her. I was so close.”

“It’s all right. It’s over now.” I kissed her cheek and ran the towel along her wet back, sopping up the sweat.

“No it isn’t. Gil, it’s just…” Trang wheezed again. “…starting.”

“Has my little pussycat caught her breath?” Morgan asked. She was back in the living room, wearing a few new accessories. She was walking towards Trang with stiletto heels. A huge dildo was strapped to her waist, flopping against her thighs as she walked. “Good. Now, slave: get on your hands and knees and face the hallway.”

Trang did as Morgan requested. I became even more excited than I was before. But I was also a little queasy about what was going to happen next.

Morgan kneeled down over Trang’s body and gripped her waist. The whore, who had now become the dominatrix, jammed the thick dildo into Trang’s ass.

“Oww!” Trang yelped. Her back spasmed. Morgan grabbed her hair and raised Trang’s head backward.

“Hey, stop,” I said to Morgan, grabbing her shoulder. “This is going too far.”

Morgan grabbed my wrist and bent it painfully backward. “What do you think this is, Gil? A simple wham-bam-thank-you-mam fuck job? You paid me to turn your little repressed BI-dyke here into a catfighter. Well, this is what catfighting is all about. You might think we fight for money, for pride, or for our men. That’s your fucking fantasy, but you’re wrong! We’re always fighting for domination over the other bitch!”

“Let her go, Gil!” Trang wailed. “I can take anything this bitch dishes out.”

Morgan yanked back on Trang’s hair again. “You can take anything who dishes out?”

“Anything my mistress dishes out!” Trang cried.

I felt like Satan must have given me my heart’s desire right then. I didn’t have to feel any guilt. Because the domination was still a part of the competition in Trang’s mind. If she could take all of the punishment, she wasn’t a wimp. I didn’t care if I was going to hell in a handbasket. I just continued to stroke my throbbing penis and enjoy the show.

“Good, slave.” Morgan thrusted the dildo back into Trang’s ass. Her tiny legs wrapped around Trang’s bigger thighs, and the stiletto heels bit into Trang’s skin. “Now start crawling to the bedroom.”

Trang started to crawl down the hallway, with Morgan riding her back, pumping the dildo into her butt. 

“Giddyup, Sheba!” Morgan laughed.

Morgan the Mistress rode Trang all the way into the bedroom, her heels biting like spurs. My lover was chained to the bed, where Morgan showed her what it meant to have power and control over another woman. She brought out all her tricks, dildos, vibrators, chains, and whips. She dished out a mixture of pleasure and pain on my darling’s body like a master chef. Morgan would whip Trang’s back lightly one minute, and tongue her cunt the next. She would never inflict any permanent damage on Trang’s body. Only a tiny amount of blood was shed-a drop here and there. The biggest torture was the teasing of Trang’s orgasm. 

The dominatrix would allow my darling to come close, riding my cock or Morgan’s dildo, until she was close to the point of orgasm. Then she would pull out the device or have me withdraw, and start pinching Trang’s tits. Of course, the orgasm prohibition didn’t apply to myself or Morgan. We fucked each other silly over Trang’s body. My dick became so sore, it hurt when it brushed against the bedsheets.

Morgan continued playing and lightly torturing Trang for a period of three hours. She stopped only because she had to get ready for the plane back to Seattle. The dominatrix stroked Trang’s pussy with her hand. My darling was laying on her stomach, her hands cuffed to the bedrail. Trang gripped the brass rails as her climax drew nearer. The orgasm made my darling rattle the bars of the bedpost so violently that I thought she would wrench it from the bedframe.

When the handcuffs were taken off, Trang was exhausted. Her hands fell limply downward on the soft pillow. Her eyes were dazed and half open. Beads of sweat dribbled down her cheek, as 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.”

As I drove Morgan to the airport, a realization about the nature of the Cat Scratch Fever occurred to me, my droogies. I must confess, it made me feel a little sick about myself, if only for a few minutes.

The sex was so much better after the second catfight, you see. It seemed to be so much more intense when my darling Chinese femizon got her lovely ass kicked to hell.

Once was enough, I thought. Let it go. Replay the tape and the memories forever in your mind.

“I don’t think we’ll do this again,” I told Morgan in the car. “This experience got it out of our systems.”

Morgan finished putting on her makeup. “I don’t think so. It’ll happen again. You’ve just had a taste of it. You’ll soon want more.”

“You’re wrong!” A wave of Puritanism came over me for a few seconds. “Lots of people do wild things when they’re young. Then they sow their wild oats and live normal lives.”

“Maybe you can stop,” Morgan replied, “but I don’t think Trang will. She’s a born catfighter. I bet if she had some more training, she could be really good. Maybe even a pro.” She paused and thought for a minute. “There’s nothing normal about either of you. So you better forget about trying to live that way!”

I didn’t hear the last part. I was concentrating on what she said just before that. “So…just for the sake of argument, let’s say you’re right. How does a babe like Trang get more training?”

Morgan laughed. “Well, there ain’t no better teacher than experience. Have her go to a gym where women train to fight. Have her pick up a butch type babe and fight her. Or, put up one of those personal ads in the ‘Alternate Lifestyles’ section. There is one place that specializes in catfighter training. But you have to travel really far to get there!”

“Where is it?”

“It’s called the Catfighters Palace. You’d have to go all the way to the Philippines, but they’ll take anyone who pays in U.S. cash. They train a lot of women to fight in different combat situations, so that they can make money in different arenas around the world. It’s really a tough program. They teach wrestling, catfighting, martial arts, and domination. I heard from a friend who tried it, they don’t pull any punches there. You have to be a real tough bitch to survive.”

“You think Trang is that tough?” I was practically salivating at the thought of Trang fighting with Filipinas.

“Not yet,” Morgan shook her head. “Have her fight some more women first. You’ll have to see if she could really go the distance.”

We pulled up to the airport, and I pulled out an envelope containing the $1,000 bonus and gave it to Morgan.  “Thanks for a job extremely well done.”

She kissed my cheek and squeezed my nipple. “Call me when you two are in Seattle. I’m serious about the rematch!”

My feeble attempt to cast the Fever in the light of a one-weekend stand had been crushed by this wise whore.   On the drive back home, I started figuring out how to seduce Trang into challenging Linda from the health club.

This Story is Continued in Chapter 2, Which You Can Read by Clicking Here!

Thank you for reading! For more of The Raven’s Stories: Click Here!

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