Ewa S. vs. Red Hot Scarlet from FCF
“Sonnet…. Ms. Sonnet…” The voice coming off the speakers alerts me as I am pulled out of my thoughts…. My hands squeezing my purse, that I have laid on my crotch, and I glance up… Looking up, confused, and into the brown eyes of the brunette in front of me…. And I see nothing but a look of contempt in her eyes….. I hear few ‘fucks’ and ‘shits’ tossed around the room, as the voice repeats; “Ewa Sonnet. Ms. Ewa Sonnet.” And I spring up to my feet… My feet squeezed into my black 3″ pumps…. I smile awkwardly looking down and I try to ignore the dozens of angry, furious, outright jealous eyes watching me as I pace across he large hall, my 5’4″ 109lbs frame pacing in my black knee-length skirt and white frilly blouse. My heart s pounding hard…. When the voice announced few minutes ago that they are short-listing the candidates, I thought it was over. There were some 30 or so girls outside in the main hall, and now, with my name being the last, they are all going home, and I am the subject of their wrath and jealousy.
I open the door and see the next room. My hazel-green eyes blink in surprise. It’s a very similar one in layout to the first, but it’s smaller…. Around a fourth in size, and I see 11 girls sitting in there. I smile shyly, and see a mixture of encouraging sympathetic smiles, and fiery glares coming at me. I hesitate for a second, then glance up at one of the few that gave me a kind look. A cute… No.. pretty… No… STUNNING redhead sitting on a chair against the wall and I walk up and with a shy smile I slide next to her… My right hand picking up my skirt from behind to make sure it doesn’t crumble. My elbow softly bumps into hers (yours), and I mumble.. “Oh I’m sorry…” Looking up to you and I whisper; “Good luck!!”
I know I said the words, but deep inside me, I don’t mean it…. This… this program is exactly what I need. I have been out of a job for three months now. My savings running low, and my rent coming up soon. Finding the other conspicious ad made me almost jump from my seat when I saw the money. What I did not expect, is what we were told. That there will be a long series of filtering, and that at the end, they will pick only one. I take a deep breath. As we sit in the room. And I glance up again, nervously noticing them…. The cameras posted in every corner. If I try real hard I can listen to their motors whirring under the glass domes. They are watching us. Surveying us. But why?
Long minutes pass…. And I can hear the warm sighs.. The clicking of heels. The popping of gum. No cell phones are allowed in so I can’t even tell how much time passed. But finally, the voice comes off the speakers; “Ms Scarlet….” And my heart sinks….. I feel a shudder next to me and the pretty redhead springs to her feet, a wide smile on her face, walking up to the door.. And I find myself giving her that jealous gaze I had before…. Why.. Why did they pick her.. What does he have over me?? I find myself thinking as my heart turns dark with jealousy when; “Ms Ewa….” And my heart almost skips a beat!!! My jaw dropping, and I rise up.. My purse sliding, falling to the floor, and I mutter, bending down to pick it up, my butt hitting the arm of the chair!! “Aww!!” So clumsy!! I hope they don’t change their mind but I try to cover it up as I head to the door, a big smile on my face, but before I reach it I can hear; “Thank you for your time everybody. We appreciate your participation.” I hear few curses and hisses but I don’t even wait to haer someone cussing me out… I just twist the handle and push the door, entering the next room, seeing you standing there… and… what the…. hell??
This chair is uncomfortable, the room is too hot, and every inch of this building smells like perfume, desperation, and sadness, and yet — it is all a heaven compared to the hell I live at home. My boyfriend and I, in a none-bedroom flat. He used to be a firefighter. A good one. Fit, muscular, brave — until he was prescribed pain pills for a lumbar injury. Pills he took as directed, until he didn’t. Pills that helped him, until they hurt. We tried to tell the labor board that the addiction was part of the injury, but the argument fell on deaf ears, especially coming from Mr. boyfriend, Jake’s lawyer, his brother. Now, he just sits at home. Complaining. Watching Fox News. Screaming about Colin Kaepernick and Hillary Clinton. All while I work. Two jobs, even though that still isn’t enough. And so, I’m her, sitting and waiting, next to the only empty chair left in this overlit madhouse. So many heels. So many skirts, ranging from too short, to too long, and nothing in between. I might laugh at the looks the girls share, if it all wasn’t so depressing — so fucking embarrassing that it has come to this. $10,000.00 for a motivated girl. What does that even mean? Who would need such a thing!? Bill Cosby or that Weinstein guy…? Certainly not Kevin Spacey, I guess…. Such questions, as flippant as they are, find themselves silenced as I see you walk into the room.
A beautiful girl, with dark brunette hair, a huge bust, perfect legs, and absolutely shaming to me, save for my thighs, hips, and ass, which I immediately point out as my only strengths compared to all of yours. Such an inspection I have done in seconds, though I could have waited, as soon you will be sitting next to me, in the last chair. A seat you take, and a second inspection I fail to make, as you scoot it, bumping my elbow with yours.
When such contact occurs, we smile at each other, and say something under our breaths, but I barely hear it — completely distracted by everything else happening here and elsewhere. But as I drift back into my own personal fog of regret and rage, I hear my name called. When it is, I smile wide, and nod happily. Yes! Food! Rent! Electricity! Gas and everything else we need! As I celebrate internally, they call another girl’s name, and it’s you. And so together, we stand, walk amongst and then past the curses and judgement of our fellow applicants, all until we have entered the next room. Unlike the last, this is no office. No waiting room. No, it is wall-to-wall gray cement, with a loveseat, a large bed, a series of large metal boxes, and blue mats on the floor between them.
Almost immediately I want to turn around and run. I need the money — so very bad. But what the fuck is this? Was I right about Cosby…? I ask myself, as a single flood light on the roof turns to us, and then turns on, setting us awash with a bright, probing beam of light. “Ms. Scarlet, Ms. Ewa: welcome.” Speaks a woman’s voice through a PA system, as the doors seal behind us, and then ominously lock shut.
I step inside, and my heart immediately sinks. You’re standing in the room, but your back is not turned to me as it should, no. You’re facing me, and your face is a mask of panic and horror as you lunge forwards. I gasp and side-step, mistaking that you’re going for me, but in reality, you’re going for the door. My body blocks you and the door slide shut, and you freeze Inches from me. Breathing hard. I blink hard, and I tilt my head to the side, craning it over your shoulder trying to peek into what… exactly.. terrorized you that much and I see the interior… My eyes go wide and my heart sinks…. What the…. It looks like the perfect blend between a Porn Movie set and the basement of a Doomsayer. I blink hard, and I turn my eyes to your wide pretty ones, and my lips part, I want to ask what the FUCK is going on, when I hear that electric ZZZZZZZZZZZZZ sound of the door locking behind us….. I spin, now understanding your previous reaction and my hand reaches up to the door knob when I realize…. There is NONE on this side!! There is no fucking handle… NOTHING…..
And that’s when the voice comes through the PA system. Calling our names, our first names, again… I did find it a bit weird when they did in the previous room, but in my excitement I didn’t really pay mind. But now I do find it awfully strange, I turn my eyes to you and I whisper; “What the… fuck… is going on?” My eyes starting to warm up… That feeling I haven’t had since mid-school when I was cornered in the girlsroom with the three seniors. That sensation before evil befalls you and your eyes are announcing their readiness to stream. The voice echoes on the PA again; “Please. Step forwards. To the blue line on the ground, and place your feet on the markers.”
I blink and look again past you, and see it, the blue mat is centering the room, framed by three sides by the love seat, the bed, and the mysterious, ominous looking crates…. But on the fourth side, the one we’re standing on, I see it, the thin blue line printed on the ground, and like in the TSA checkpoints on the airport, two footprints printed on the ground. I walk up, shaking and I stand on the one on the left. The feet are positioned to a bit further than shoulder length. Both straining my skirt, and making me feel that I’m spreading far too much. But at this moment, I better act normal, and do as I’m asked.
All of this is wrong. Every single second of it. I feel it in my bones. And so I turn. And so I burst, into a sprint and a sweat, and a…. Blocked…. Cornered…. Trapped….
I find myself, as you enter and door shuts. No! I think to myself, even though you have only just begun to notice all that is wrong with the room. Suddenly, this brunette from the waiting room, who was nothing more than a beautiful girl who will give me self-confidence issues for the next 12 lattes, is my only hope.
As the question lingers, echoing off the gray walls of this cage, my shoulder slump, my eyes close, and I realize. Whatever is about to happen. Whatever horrors lay in store for me, and you, I do, in fact, need the money. And so again I turn. And again I move, this time to the line like a good girl — taking my place next to you.
As soon as my toes touch the horizontal stripe, the voice continues. “Good…. Now, Ewa….” A long pause follows, almost as if the voice is letting us have a moment — a moment in which our dread might build. “Tell me, what do you think of Scarlet. Her body. Her hair. Her face. How does she compare, to you?”
As the question is asked, or the command, I look to you, my eyes scanning your face for a reaction in the silence. As I watch them, I see your eyes move to my body, first my thin, black, spaghetti strap top; then to my ass, which strains against my short white skirt; down my black pantyhose-covered legs, and then finally down to my 3” black heels.
My head is hanging down… I’m shaking… I’m not proud… But I’m scared…. I’ve watched enough horror films… Not the triple-A ones, but rather the B-rated, nightmare scenario type, where the real monsters are humans, with wicked intent and minds, to know that the best course of action right now is to comply…. To lower my head…. And not try to do anything foolish… I’d rather let you do the screaming and pounding, the running around this concrete box of a room like a rat, and take the brunt of what’s to happen… Certainly ashamed of myself, but…. Survival is stronger than pride….
And like a tree leaf in a tempest I shake, as the voice turns to you, and you begin to… walk… The click of your heels moving, and you take your place next to me… I swallow and glance down, seeing how your own legs are spread too far, just like mine…. But then the voice turns to me and I glance up…. My head still lowered, but I move my eyes, gazing in horror at the cameras…. But as the question is posed…. My jaw drops… What.?? What the fuck… Is this….. Fuck.. Is this REALLY what this is about?? My mind going back to the ad; ‘Social Experiment’… Is this all.. some kind of conditioning?? To put us under pressure and stress??
My in clings tothat hope, and I swallow… Part of me beginning to feel how fucking SILLY it was of me to overact…. But… As in my natural habit of shifting blame, I put it all on YOU.. It’s all because of that look you gave me, the way you rushed to the door.. Damn stupid ginger!! I almost seethe….. And I turn my head, my face calmer now… A little sniffle, and I see you staring at me… My hazel-green eyes going up and down….. Your body…And for a second, my mind wonders… Is there a right answer?? Do they EXPECT me to say something in particular?? To act a certain way??? I look at how your black top constrasts with your creamy soft flesh.. And I part my lips and I say in a calm voice, my Eastern European accent quite obvious on it…
“Pretty…. She’s quite pretty…. Her body is… Eh… I’d say… a six??” .. I purr the words, as my mind decides to lie…. Not for any reason but that my mood towards you have darkened with me shifting the blame on you….. And maybe that’s what they want… For me to speak my mind on the moment, that setting they put us in; “She could do with a cup-size… Maybe two…. And maybe a pick up jogging….. Thosethighs are…. eh… too close to each other…” I purr, slowly feeling my cattiness overtake, and it feels… good…. Almost therapeutic…. “And her hair… Well…. It’s…… pretty…. I’ve always liked redheads, so I’ll give it a…. nine….” I purr, dangling a little carrot to you, then moving my eyes to you, “Her face… ehh… It’s.. It’s…” My cheeks suddenly flush in jealousy…. The longer I look, the closer I look.. I can’t find a fucking flaw…. My cheeks flush as I almost stutter….
The voice, suddenly coming off, the tone trailing with a hint of a amusement; “That’s enough Ewa. Thank you. — Scarlet. Turn, and look at Ewa. Same question to you.”
My eyes dart back and forth across the room, as you prepare to give an answer. Cameras everywhere — covering every angle. Are they moving? Aiming at us? What will they use this footage for? WHAT KIND OF SICK GAME IS THIS!?
I begin to rage against our captor, until suddenly, your words break through my averted focus, and drain the rosy color from my cheeks. A six? Thighs too close together? A cup size or two!? Oh my god, I’m going to kill this bitch! I swear to myself, barely able to keep my toes on the line. Wanting to face you.
To attack you. To make you apologize and admit you want me. To squeeze the words out of your pretty little foreign lips. On and on you tell this unknown woman, this controlling voice of my body’s failings, until finally you reach my face. Then I wait for it. A comment about my skin tone, or my makeup.
My lips needing chapstick. My freckles. But instead you freeze, stutter, and flail, until the voice stops you. I know exactly why you couldn’t speak. Why you froze when the time came to tell this woman I wasn’t beautiful.
“… Scarlet. Turn, and look at Ewa. Same question to you.” As soon as she says it, I turn as if on a lever, looking at you with smoldering, angry eyes. Suddenly, you are the villain, and I have forgotten all about the woman giving the commands.
I could hear in your voice how much you loved trashing me. How you your words stretched, and your volume lowered into a sensual hush. Wanting to give every last cent of that back to you, my glare turns into a deep, examination, with my eyes running from your feet to your head, and back again.
“First, her hair is ratty, and rife with split ends. Second, asking a brunette about my hair? Ha! Talk about unqualified to give an opinion on hair….” As I speak, bitchy and rude, I watch your face. Your eyes. Wanting to see your pain as I twist the knife.
“Her face is nice in that, lives in a hostel, oppressed by Russia, escaped the sex slave life sort of way.” With every word I deliver, I have to restrain myself from stepping forward, wanting at you more and more as the tension grows between us.
“What about her breasts, Scarlet…?” Asks the voice when I seem to have reached the summation of my shit talking. “How do her breasts compare to yours?” At the prompting, I spread my lips, lower my skirt, and prepare to speak.
“They’re….” I search for words. For something catty to say. Some way of not giving you a compliment, but I fail. “Mmmm hmmm….” Comments the voice, in the way one does when they find something interesting to take note of.
You turn to me, and I see the FURY in your eyes… My gawd… Did I just make a huge mistake… I gulp, as I see you giving me that… LONG… up’n’down glare, then you begin to speak… There is nothing but CONTEMPT in your voice….. You wail on my hair…. And my eyes narrow… What… alittle.. shitty… liar….. My teeth clench, as my hands ball up into fists…. Gazing at you… As you move to my face, calling it ‘nice’, but then, as any cocky, privileged American TART you have to toss in some racist stereotype… As if Eastern Europe is only Russia. My lips part and I almost bark something back at you.. But I am reminded to remain calm, hissing at you…..
But as you reach and lift your thighs, suddenly shifting from talking about me but retaliating, I look up and I I say in a sharp voice; “Is she supposed to say that? I thought the question was about what she thought of ME!!” — “Ms. Sonnet, remain quiet!!” The voice commands, and I purse my lips, glaring at you… I see your eyes smirk as you lay the challenge, and then she asks about my breasts, and you… You give the same response I gave about your face… You’re lost for words….
And while that should make me feel good.. It actually INFURIATES me…. You’re just… another one… Another one of those who just see me as a pair of tits on legs….. Heck, you don’t even acknowledge my legs… Not my face… not my hair… Just.. fucking… TITS…. And my lips curl back in a sneer…. My blood pumping… I’m used to being objectified like this… From everyone, but it never stops hurting…. It never stops me from going to bed in tears as I feel like I’m nothing else… Entirely characterized by that…..
The voice comes out again; “Before moving to the next question. Let’s take a moment and dwell on the…. challenge.. Scarlet laid out to you. Would you take her up on such challenge?” — “Any… fucking… day….” I hiss… without hesitation…
A pause comes from the PA… Making me wonder if she’s pondering what to do… If she’s discussing this with others… or heck…. adjusting the cameras to zoom on us….. “Very well. Please move to the boxes on the side.” The voice commands us and I tense… Turning I walk towards one of the boxes and I sit on the edge….
And you’re smart.. Smart enough to know what she’s about to ask you to do before you say it, and you slide your body, wiggling it in the space between my box and the closest one, and you slide down….. “Please… Hike up your skirts…”
I gaze at you, my eyes narrowed with rage… You showed NO hesitation pulling your skir tup before… And this time I reach and pull mine up, high enough that a hint of my black lacey thong is exposed….. “Please, slides your legs with one knee inside the other. And… test each others strength….. Use your abductors for one leg, and your adductors for the other pair.”
I take in a deep breath, glaring at you. My hands reaching down and I grab the edge of the crate… I slide my left leg outside your right, and I press my leg inwards on yours, feeling you push your right thigh outwards… And at the same time, my right leg slides to the inside of your left, me pushing out, and you pushing in……. “… Begin!!!!”
It took one question, to turn us from hesitant, near kidnappees, to two women at war with one another. One question, and this woman, and her voice became not our tormentor, but our guide — through a spontaneously combusting rivalry.
Not one forced on us. Not one we were pressured into. But one we are both covet and desire. Such wanton want you can see as I almost leap into position on the box in front of yours. There is just something in your eyes. In the way you move. The way you speak with that irritatingly sexy accent. I hate it.
I hate you. Even though we have only known each other for moments. Almost as if we are rivals defined by fate, and we have found each other in this new life — found each other to hurt one another again.
But such grandiose thoughts do not occur to me, as I am busy. Busy pulling up my skirt, and aligning my legs with yours. Busy guiding your eyes with mine down to my panties. I want you to see them, and how good they look.
I want them to drive you wild, even after you have announced to the world how unattractive you find my body. And though that is my intention for showing, I betray that when I spoke such words, they were no more truthful, as in the center of my white panties, you can see a tiny wet spot beginning to form.
Oblivious to that, and feeling fully confident that you like what you see, I begin to press my legs both out and in against yours, and you do the same in opposite directions.
There, sitting in front of each other, our muscles flex and bodies train, each of us trying to overpower, and break the will of the other. And yet, despite our force, we immediately reach an impasse.
Neither of us moving the others legs, instead only trying. Grunting. Expecting quick victory, but finding only a languishing stalemate. Seconds, pass, then 10 of them, then more, until the voice comes again.
“Mmmm, interesting: a tie so far. Girls, lean in and rest your heads on each others shoulders.” Despite the effort I pour forth, I look to you for a moment, locking eyes, to see how you will take such a command.
Then after I see you look to me for the same, I reach around you with both arms, pull my upper body closer, and then rest my head on your shoulder, turning my face towards your neck, and then whisper: “I feel you shaking, bitch….” A comment I make as both of us begin to quake with equal severity.
I fucking… hate you… That’s.. taht’s what’s happening here… I don’t.. I don’t fucking understand… How my emotions can flip so quickly, so rapidly.. From fear and panic, to this total feral sensation of pure, deep entrenched competition…… We sit opposite the other, our hands hike our skirts, and even that seems like a competition as we try to bare even MORE skin to the other…. My white thong exposed to yours…. And as you gaze at me with such… BITCHY… intent… I feel… ughh… no… FUCK… I feel my kitty spasming a bit.. and… a tiny bit of honey oozes out…. softly wetting and discoloring the center of my thong.. FUCK please let it not be too obvious…..
And my main line of defense is… GLARING at you back… To keepyour eyes on me…. Sat on the edge of the metal crates, our legs tense up…. It’s like that stupid machine at the gym, always taken by those 40+ year olds, where you swingyour thighs open or squeeze them shut… I rarely even need to use it, not with legs toned up like my own….. And yet I feel the tension… Your legs…. are… STRONG…… I grit on my teeth…. And I stare at your pretty eyes…. You purse your lips…. My finges SQUEEZE the edges of the box….. You lean forwards…. I lean a bit back… Shifting… uncomfortably.. Fighting…. Our legs trembling…
“Ohhhhh….” A soft groan of pain leaves my lips, and almost on cue, another finally escapes your throat “nnnghhhh”….. The struggle continuing until…. The voice comes out and calls it a tie…. And instructs us further…. I breathe hard and.. obey… I lean in…. and you stare at me… I pause….. And then you lean in, embracing me and whispering your words…… I grit on my teeth….. And I tilt my head, resting my left cheek on your right shoulder, my lips almost pressing at the base of your neck, I murmur back, not wanting my voice to reach the speakers; “Nice try….. I’ve seen the cellulite on your thighs… Want me to keep going easy on you, or should I just break your fucking hips in one go?” My arms sliding around your upper back, my left hand gripping my right wrist and I PULL in tighter….
The voice comes on the PA… “Now… Resume….” And as if we needed that we begin to grimace… to grind, to push and pull… spread and tighten……. Few seconds pass as the voice comes “Ewa….. Bite Scarlet’s shoulder… If you choose to…..” I feel you tremble at the words, and you really should… Because before the crackle of the PA ends my jaw gapes wide and I BURROW my teeth into your exposed shoulder flesh… A BAD day to wear a tank top, you pasty CUNT!
Our struggling thighs press and push, and every day I have spent cursing the thickness of my own thighs rushes back to me. How wrong I was! How lucky I am! For if mine were any lesser, they would surely break at the force applied by yours.
As if telling you that tale, and how fiercely I must work to resist you, my breath catches and lips part to release a mix of groans and whimpers, each of which twist into moans of effort, frustration, and excitement at such an intimate challenge.
One in which we lay on each other, as we use our thighs to prove something to this woman — this voice, and each other. With a loud static, the PA opens again, and the voice tells you to bite me.
My eyes grow wide with fear, just as your teeth sink in. In reaction, I scream into shoulder, as your teeth burrow into my skin. Such a distraction causes my thighs to lessen their push, and collapse, inward, only stopping a centimeter before you close our legs, and in what I can only imagine would be considered a complete victory.
But to that centimeter I cling, not wanting to lose to you. No this. Not with my thighs. Not ever! I tell myself as the PA begins again. “Scarlet, kiss Ewa’s shoulder, SOFTLY.”
WHAT!? I think to myself, outraged at the command. How is that fair?
How is– Though I ask myself, I do as I am told, beyond the point of resisting the voice at this point. In that state of complete compliance, I begin to slowly kiss your shoulder, softly, lovingly almost, moving my lips from the farthest end of your shoulder, then back to your neck — even as you bite me. Even as my legs burn, and threaten to give in.
YES. Fucking… YES… The voice picked me.. She… or They… Whoever they are… the fucking collective.. Picked ME to bite you, and I just gnaw at your shoulder… Your skin is so soft…. I can taste the lotion, and feel the tender flesh squish under my teeth before I find myself biting into your muscle… And GAWD are you fucking strong… I gnaw hard… And I hear you CRY out in pain…. My legs squeeze, closing yours rapidly, and I almost think that I won… But.. Uggh… No… your legs are not fully shut.. I can feel them wavering, like a birds wings slightly flapping inching.. RESISTING me… FUCKING CUNT…
Did I bite the wrong spot? Should I have gone higher.. Maybe I should… the thoughts fill my mind but I’m TERRIFIED to let go of the bite, and find that I’ve squandered my chance….. So I keep the hold, trying to pour the pain slowly into you… My teeth shy only from beaking your skin… Because… I’m not that kind of savage…. (oh how foolish I am…)
Then the voice comes commanding your kiss… My eyes go wide… Is this a joke?? HAH!!! You’re fucked.. You are screwed… I gnaw harder on the bite, when you lean in and… i feel your lips… So full.. So thick… So soft… Pecking my shoulder.. And something uugh… Something triggers… I don’t know if its the nervous exhale of pain… The moan of suffering that leaves your lips with each kiss… If its the fucking feeling that I’m hurting someone who is… being this… kind to me…. My head just… spins… And my legs just… relax… I don’t feel it.. I don’t feel it until too late but my legs are almost fully spread…. your thighs pressuring on them.. and I groan.. “UUGGHHH!!!” FUCK!!! So frustrated… I hear the voice suddenly saying… “STOP!!”
I pant, my jaw releasing your shoulder… And I… fucking moan…. as you stop the kissing… almost lamentingly… I lean back.. Saliva drooling from my lip… and I wipe it… Breathing hard… My blouse.. has shifted from the grinding and shifting against your body.. Tucked a bit out of my skirt… “Look down at each others crotches…” I glance down.. and… my eyes go wide.. I see it.. the wide patch of wetness soaking your panties…. “Rise….” I blush, and I get up… Breathing hard…. Something is… strange.. This is absolutely nuts… But… I’m growing to… LOVE.. this game… this job… this experiment.. this WHATEVER…..
We stand opposite the other…. And the voice goes on again; “Scarlet. Ewa could have bitten you for a second, or two, but she chose to bite you for the entire time. Never to release. Even when you started to kiss her, and show some affection”…. FUCK… My eyes go wide, as I curse that damn CUNT behind the microphone…. “Scarlet…. If you were to take one shot at Ewa…. What would you do…. Any kind of attack. One smooth motion. Anywhere to her body… To her front, side, or back. Please, show us. Oh, and Ewa…. Please stand still… if you as much as flinch, it would disqualify you….” My body freezes like a wax statue, I can feel blood leaving my cheeks, gulping….. FUCK!!
“STOP!!” Comes the instruction from the PA, and an end comes to our battle of thighs. It was not an end I saw coming, as in that tight bind with you, I had become lost. In your grasp. In between your legs. In your bite.
Each of us straining against the other, looking to prove the truth of my earlier challenge. And even though that was the purpose as we saw it, the voice was testing us. Not our thighs, but our desires — our willingness to comply, and to hurt each other.
Somewhere in the attrition she found her answer, and now seeks to test us further, as we release each other and pull away. The taste of the other fresh on our tongues.
With that taste, and the fatigue from such a struggle still causing my legs to burn, I sit back on the crate.
“Look down at each others crotches.” Despite my state I comply, and see that you look, how I feel. Wet. Soaking. I KNEW I TURNED YOU ON! I gloat to myself, having proven your words were lies, even as you discover mine were too, a thought that depresses my sudden jubilation.
“Scarlet…. If you were to take one shot at Ewa…. What would you do…. Any kind of attack. One smooth motion.” The voice offers. I could be torn about this, hesitant. Regretting our earlier insults, and looking to you as an ally again — refusing to hit you.
But FUCK THAT! I think, as I raise a hand to my shoulder, feeling the bite marks on my flesh. I check. No blood. Ok, but still that fucking hurt! And you never let go! Even when I–even when she–UGH!
I rage internally, staring at you. Seeing the worry in your eyes — the fear. Fear that brings a wicked grin to my face as I examine you. There so many places I could attack. So many different parts of your body I’d love to use to bring you pain. And in all those choices, I pause — thinking, until the PA sounds again.
“DO IT, Scarlet. Hit her.” The voice commands, clearly frustrated by my delay. A delay I end, as I step forward, and swinging the front of my thigh hard into your gut. My intent is not to end you, but to wind you, and leave you breathless for whatever our next test may be.
“Good. Now, Scarlet, since you were so willing to take that free shot at Ewa. I want you to get down on your knees in front of her. There you will stay, until and after I have given her instructions.”
Her order given, I step forward, as you deal with my blow, and then drop to my knees before you. “And Ewa, once you have your breath back, I want you to take two deep handfuls of her hair, and show her how wet you are. Show this “6” how turned on this struggle has made you.”
I fucking… can’t… Uugghhhh.. BREATHE….. My eyes go wide… Your fucking thigh…. Your powerful, strong leg that put my own at bay for these long minutes… Not showing much in the way of fatigue as you HAMMER it into my gut… I slump over… Gasping… My cheeks flushing, as spittle flies from my lips…. My right arm wrapping around my waist.. Gasping.. I try to catch my breath…But no air comes in…. For a second… Then two, then i GASP in and I slap my left hand on my knee cap.. My legs trembling… “Fuck…. that.. HURT!!!” I scream out, my tears gushing with tears… And I glance up… Staring at you, furious… But I see nothing but that cocky ‘hollier than thou’ grin on your face… You enjoyed it… It fucking shows…. I lick my lips, rising up.. Refusing to remain bowed before you, when the voice asks you to… KNEEL….. My eyes go wide… And I watch you, grinning back to you, a vicious smirk as you hesitate, then… slowly slide down…. To your knees, your eyes glancing up at me…
And despite the rather strict instruction to not touch each other, I reach up and pat on your head lightly, purring in a little bitchy tone; “Don’t you look right at home there, on your fucking knees….” The voice on PA coming out again, and I pull my hand back, when it starts to give me the instructions… I smirk when it tells me to grab your hand and my fingers auto-shoot out wrapping around your crimson locks, but then as it continues, my eyes go wide.. “What the FUCK is this??” I screech as I’m being told to fucking… let this TRAMP eat my pussy!!! “Ms Sonnet. Please do as you’re asked, and do note that this is the second time you object. There will not be a third.” I bite my bottom lip. FUCK…. I know this will be all over the internet… But.. I need the money… I need it so badly… And right now…. At least I’m not the one on my knees…
I slowly pull your head forwards towards me… “Lift my skirt up.. will ya??” I mutter at you, and I feel your fingers sliding up, touching my shins, knees, and moving up, gliing, almost sensually, and I tilt my head back, pulling your face rather hastily… Hoping that MAYBE if I press your face to my panties, you will just do it externally…. Without stripping it down…
Oh you fucking bitch… I think to myself, as you smirk at me. As you dig your fingers into my hair. GOD I FUCKING HATE YOU! I remind myself, as you spread your legs, and begin to slowly pull me into you.
Then you tell me to lift your skirt, almost as if we are partners in this whole you fucking my face affair. I would tell you to fuck off, but so far I have done I have been told, and you have twice disobeyed instructions.
Not wanting to break that streak, or anger the voice, I do as you tell me, lifting your skirt, and sliding my head beneath it. Like you, I hope that I can stay outside of your panties, but as I think it — hope it, the voice speaks again. “Take her panties off, Scarlet.”
“Shit.” I curse in a mutter, as I reach up, and take the two side of your panties, thereafter pulling them down your admittedly incredible, and frustratingly strong thighs. I can’t see you, or even hear you, but I can sense as I take your wet panties that you are nervous, by the way you arch yourself back, and pull yourself away from me.
I would feel some glee at such discomfort, but not when I am about to be shoved mouth first into my rival’s sopping pussy. Still, with the panties removed, I close my eyes, and prepare to do what I assume the voice wants. Taking one final breath before, I open my mouth and move in. Slowly. Methodically. Savoring every last second of not having your sex in my mouth. And then she says it:
“Bite her.” The command is short, clear, and loud. And when it comes, I obey, surrounding your entire kitty with my mouth, and then biting down hard on your lips. I do so not hard enough to draw blood, but instead only with enough force to keep you from pulling away, and to hurt you.
Deeply. Intimately. In every way that makes me whimper with excitement into the bite. So amazing is the feeling, and the glory of the sudden switch of fortunes that I reach a single hand down, and begin to stroke my clit. Mmmm, enjoy it slut! ENJOY the bite of this “6”!
“Take her panties off Scarlet…” I shudder… My lips part, I’m about to object… But I’ve heard the voice… This is my LAST strike…. I bite my bottom lip and I shut my eyes… My fingers on your hair loosens a bit.. Almost as if I’m telling you that you don’t HAVE to do this… You can disobey… But… Your fingers slide up…. Your fingers slipping between my white panties and my hips and you pull down… Dragging and slowly, very slowly peeling the lace down…. The soaked front patch… STICKS… to my skin, and I bite my bottom lip… it hurts a little as you peel it off… Like pulling duct tape off…. And I shift slightly… Trying to close my legs a little, but I stop… That might piss them off… So I remain still…..
I can feel the cool air against my kitty….. My body tensed. Then… your warm breath… Your nostrils…. inches from me.. Your lips exhaling then… The voice…
My eyes snap open… What?? WHAT?? WH—“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!”
I don’t scream.. I fucking SHRIEK… As gingerly eager I was to BITE your shoulder earlier, your your teeth into my sex… I SCREAM… Your jaw strong… your teeth gnawing at my sex… I SCREECH and TUG on your hair, but as I do, your lower teeth sink DEEPER… You gnaw madly… And I cry. I feel my legs weakening, and I begin to collapse, but your head remains in place… I fall down, about to my knees but you THRUST and drop me to my back… My legs kick wildly by the sides.. My heels drumming into the floor, and you just lay there… Biting… and RUBBING your clit… Feverishly…. My tears stream down my face… It’s hell.. It’s fucking… HELL….. Then the voice on the PA comes out suddenly; “STOP!!!”
And just like that, you open your jaw and release me and I curl up, rolling to my side… My right hand cupping my sex… Sobbing… My face buried into my left elbow…. Bawling out……. “Get up……” I hear you rocking and rising to your feet… “Get up… EWA!!!” The voice comes again, a hint of sadistic glee in it… And I realize… I’m being punished for my disobedience… I sob, and in despair to not be called out again, I rock, and press my left forearm in the ground… My thighs pressed tightly together.. My skirt still uplifted… Showing my naked ass…. I rock slowly and push up to my heels…. Still hunched over in pain… The pain.. receding… But so.. fucking slowly so… Especially with your phantom jaw feeling like it’s still lodged on my labia…
Like Christmas, Hanukkah, and my birthday rolled into one, my bite is agony to you and heaven for me. So much pain! Even without a full, carnivorous bite! And with it applied, you and I, in a strange partnership, lower you down to the mats on your back. I literally feel as if I could lay there for the rest of my life, biting you. Torturing you.
Paralyzing you with my teeth sinking into your most sensitive of flesh. But just as I settle in, hoping the voice will allow me such providence, she yells “STOP!!!!” Despite my love of your state, and my own desires to continue your suffering, I release you and stand.
There, on the floor you roll from side to side, holding your wounded kitty sobbing. In reaction, I offer in taunt, “mmmm, so yummy”, as I wipe drool and your juices from my lips.
Before you have even begun to recover, the voice orders you to your feet.
Commands you stand, even though you are in no state to do so. For the briefest of moments I feel bad for you, a feeling that vanishes when I see your eyes and hate fills me again. As it does, however, the voice continues. “Scarlet, how did she taste?”
For a moment I pause, and then offer. “Disgusting!” I yell back, wanting to shame you, though what a mistake that was. “LIAR!” The voice accuses. “You think disobeying orders is bad, Scarlet. Well, lying is something we will not tolerate. HOW. DID. SHE. TASTE?”
Again I pause not wanting to give you the satisfaction of telling you I actually liked it. “FINE! Ewa, take Scarlet’s clothing. All of it. Then, when she is stripped. It is your turn to wound, and teach lessons. Claw her. Anywhere. EVERYWHERE. And Scarlet, you may not resist Ewa in anyway, or you will be disqualified!
I huff, moan, and sob.. Tears rolling, no, STREAMING down my cheeks so much they are dripping off my chin, and wetting my own blouse. I listen to the exchange, as you call me DISGUSTING and I hiss under my breath ‘fuck you’… but for my good fortune, the voice on the speakers BLASTS so loud and covers it up….. You resist, and the anger in the voice is evident, as it tells me to strip you… I blink, staring at you and I grin…. Smirking… I walk up to you… Still aching, but I push up right…. “Mmm…. At the risk of downgrading you to a FIVE after seeing what’s under…. “
I reach up and grab your fucking top by the bottom and i yank it UP, exposing your toned, flat abs and I flip your top over your face…. I hear you groan and I resist the urge to PUNCH your blinded face….. Every bit of me wants it… But I have to.. resist… I then step INTO you and I bump my larger chest against your smaller one.. I lean into your ear, hissing; “You jealous cunt… Feel a real woman and weep…”
My arms wrap around you and I clasp your bra from behind and undo it, then I YANK tugging it down your arms leaving it stuck around your covered face, your perky breasts spilling out, nipples exposed…. I then walk up behind you… I see the zipper to your skirt, and instead of undoing it, I lift my left leg.. “…awwww…” I moan but I PRESS my 3″ shoe into your lower back grinding it into your flesh and I YANK, BREAKING the zipper and letting it run down, lowering my leg, seeing the dent my heel left into your sensitive flesh I YANK your skirt down….. Then finally, I reach for your panties, and I brush the sides of your body, slowly walking around you…..
I kneel slowly before you.. You can’t see me with your head covered, but you can FEEL my touch, my breath…. And I lean in, my face so close to your kitty and I SNAP my teeth… But not on your sex, rather, on your panties and I PULL hard, yanking, stretching after scaring you that I’d repay you in kind and I rip it off….I spit the thong down… And only then do I reach up and PULL the bra and tank top up and off your head….. I toss them away, glaring at you… Grinning, as i then reach down grabbing your right ankle and I PULL on your heel; “The nice lady said… ALL OF IT!!” I flick your heels off, leaving you complete bared…. Wearing nothing but your makeup and nail polish… Breathing hard… I just stare….
Bringing my right paw up… I curl my right hand, and slipping my tongue out, I lickkkk the tipsof my claws… wetting them with my saliva… I stare at you and I see… contempt.. Hatred… “What are you looking at me like that for, CUNT….” I hiss at you…. My claw moving towards your sex.. But then I pause… For all I know.. I have one claw… one rake… one maul or scratch… I need to make it… COUNT……. I grin and I slowly walk around you… Coming up behind you, I slowly kneel… My right hand slowly slipping between your thighs… curling up…. I reach up.. up.. up… Trying to bring my right arm as high as I can from behind you, my nails touching your upper abs, just inches below the swell of your breasts…
And in one… slow motion… I sink my claws in and… I dragggggggg… down.. raking my nails across your abs… my middle claw dipping into your belly button and out…. scratching across your lower abs, your hips… your clit, and labia, my body leaning back as I slide up, rising, continugint the ONE sweeping motion, letting my claw drag up between your legs…. and across the curves of your buttocks… two nails on each cheek, my middle grazing the ‘cleavage’ of your ass before it comes off and the voice yells; “Mmmm… STOP!!!!” I pull my arm back, and I pant… From sheer.. excitement.. I’m behind you, so I can’t see your face, but the voice, almost reading my mind commands; “Scarlet.. Turn around… Look at Ewa.. and ttell her, how it FELT…”
With a bratty stomp, I slam my hands down about my sides, angry with myself for losing my role as favorite, and putting you in a position of such power by lying to the voice. I shouldn’t have. I should have just told her. How sweet you tasted. How I wanted more. Maybe then she would have given it to me. But nooooo. No instead, I had to lie and resist, and now I see my smile stolen from my face, and plastered on yours.
You bitch! Don’t you dare! I try to tell you with my eyes. Threatening you with my every movement and glare. Promising reprisal if you do what the voice tells you. But what do I get back? Malice. Pure, and unadulterated. I hurt you. I tortured you. And now it’s your turn. “Fuck….” I mouth as you move closer, and reach out to begin to strip me.
Your comment of turning me from my 6 into a 5 is brutal, and drives me wild, but still I cannot resist. Maybe not even verbally. And so all I do is glare, staring daggers at you. Even as you move in, and press your body into mine. “Feel a real woman and weep!” When you say it, my brain almost shorts out with anger. FUCKING SLUT! I’LL KILL YOU! I want to scream in your face. Want to carve into your skin. But I can’t. DAMNIT!
It is only then that you begin, pulling my shirt over my face and leaving it there, and pulling my bra off to trap my arms. In the dark my lips move in the shape of curses, until suddenly I feel it. Your breath. Your closeness. Then I hear it. Your jaws snapping about my sex. It should terrify me. The thought of your revenge. But something about this entire game or study has confused me, and turned my fears and desires into one. And so as I feel you so very close, I can feel myself wetting again. So much so, that when you pull my panties off, with your mouth no less, I drip onto your chin and the mat.
Quickly then, after a few more taunts, humiliations, and a painful heel to the back, I find myself nude. In front of you. There, I glare at you again. With your eyes locked on mine, as you slowly approach, and lower your hand to my sex. I close my eyes, expecting you to dig it in. To wound my kitty, as I did yours. But it doesn’t come. No, and instead when I open my eyes, you are missing. Well most of you, as I find your hand reaching between my thighs from behind, up my toned tummy, and then up to a place just below my breasts. Then, with a single fluid claw, you drag your nails down my stomach, over my freshly shaven mound, across my pussy lips, over my dripping wet clit, and up my ass. Each is a horror in and of itself, but together, I find myself screaming, with my voice echoing off the walls of the room. A scream that comes as I drop to my knees, tears drop from my eyes in legion, and then I fall face-first onto the mat.
The pain has only just set in, and yet the voice tells me to stand. To turn. To face you. She demands I tell you how it felt. I should tell you the truth. Avoid further punishment. Take from you control so that I can wound you. But instead:
“I felt nothing, bitch!” I tearfully scream in your face, unwilling to give you the satisfaction. The voice then responds: “Your turn again, Ewa.”
I see you turn… And…. Is this my birthday?? Did I win the lottery?? Was I just crowned Queen of the Known, and Unknown universe?? I don’t know what can top this… sense of pure joy.. Of absolute and total pleasure.. I could drop dead right now, and if the sight of your weeping, snot-dripping, salivating face is the last thing I could see, I will die a very happy woman!! I curl my lips cruelly as the voice asks you what you felt, and… My eyes go wide… “nothing??” I mouth at you, shaking my head… Even before the voice says is, I know what you’ve just done to yourself…. “You… fucking… fool…” I whisper at you… shaking my head… a wicked grin on m face… as I slowly move up against you too…..
I stop behind you…. Then I tilt my head up and I say in a calm, polite, calculated voice; “Euhmm… Excuse me Ma’am… But… I’m.. so sweaty… Is it okay if.. I mean.. is it alright by you… if I… strip down???” — I hold my breath for a second, then… The voice comes back, with a rather gleeful, curious excitement to it… “By all means…..” I smirk, and I slowly reach down, and I start to unbutton my blouse…..
I don’t make a show of it… I’m… on a mission… I strip my blouse… and unclasping my bra, I let it drop down… I wasn’t lying… My naturally tanned body is… gleaming with sweat….. I unzip my skirt and I let it drop down… But… I keep my heels on…. I walk up behind you… and I press my naked body to your behind… Your curvy buttocks pressing into my naked kitty… and I let you feel my smooth, Brazilian-waxed kitty again…. And I lean in, whispering into your right ear in a soft voice, like a longing lover; “Missed me??”
But… the bliss, the sensual tension in my voice is just… a thin facade.. a lie… a stark contrast to my left leg that slides out and slowly snakes around the outside and to the front of your left one…. Like a snake strangling a thick tree trunk… I curl my limb around yours, opening myself more, and I let my soaked kitty Brush against your ass, smear it with my nectar….. My left 3″ heel, I point, and I press on the inside of your upper right thigh.. and I.. GRIND it there.. Drilling the heel into our flesh…. But of course, I’m only doing this for balance…. not to hurt you or anything….
My breasts press into your back… and I let you feel the stiffness of my nipples, gouging into your shoulder blades… My lips right next to your ear, I purr; “No??? That’s a shame….. Because my claws have already missed your flesh….. FIVE…” I purr the last word cruelly, as my arms slowly slide under your armpits, my hands sliding over your small, perky breasts… Each hand reaching for the… further away breast…….
My left hand going for your right, and my right, going for your left… almost like a lover embracing another in a TIGHT hug, my breasts flattening against your back… and I curl my fingers, pushing my nails into your tender flesh…. and I… DIG all 10 of my claws into the sides of your tits.. and in a slow motion, I draggggg down, raking across the fronts of your tits, from one end, to the other, leaving ten red welts across your one pristine skin……. And only then, ONLY then do I uncurl my leg from around you, and I step back… Breathing hard… Panting….. Not from exhaustion… No.. from AROUSAL…… Glaring at you… My pupils dilating as the voice goes again…. “Scarlet… Turn around…. And answer the question…. RIGHT… this time…”
Despite everything I feel about you, for you, all of which center around hate and the passion derived therefrom, when you ask for permission to strip, I find myself excited. Yes we’re enemies. Yes we’re trapped her to torture each other. But still, I have never been this turned on in my life. An excitement which increases and the voice answers and gives you permission and you strip. God your body…. I want to hurt it, yes. To wound it. To leave it red, swollen, and battered. But first I want it on mine. Against mine. Flesh-to-flesh. Kitty-to-kitty. Nipple-to-nipple. In my eyes you would see that desire, had you not rounded me. Not wrapped your sexy thigh around my hip, and then dug your heels into my sensitive soft inner-thigh. “OuuGGGHH” I whimper, and gasp, as not only your heel but your nipples press and dig into my skin.
Then you ask if I missed you, and my mouth opens, and my tongue moves to form words and sentences. To say yes, to my shame. But before I can move past the pain of your stabbing heel, your previous scratch, and the excitement coursing through my body, you speak. “No??? That’s a shame….. Because my claws have already missed your flesh.” Then OH GOD, just as I feel you press your wet kitty to my ass, smearing your juices on me, you place your hands, and drag your nails down my body. It hurts. So bad that my crying begins again, with loud, deep, gasping — heaving inhales. “Owe owe owe owe owe.” I repeat over and over pathetically as your claws move. And yet, even then, in all that agony, you can hear and feel my excitement. My body pressing back into yours. My hands moving back to your sides gently, and then pulling you closer.
The voice comments not on such touching, even as your scratching concludes. Even as red ravines of pain open up on my skin. Even as you uncoil your leg from around me, step back, and take from me the contact that helped me make it through the pain. Again, I am then ordered to turn and tell you. This time, my mascara having run. My lipstick smudged from having bitten my lip. And my foundation all but gone, I look at you with a hung head, and shame-filled eyes.
“It–It–hurt” I say, still hiccuping from my sobbing, and heaving for breath. “And?” The voice asks me to continue. “It felt good.” I add, before looking to the mat, and half turning away from you.
“There, now that was the truth. Now, Ewa, look at Scarlet, and tell her you lied to us when you said she was a “6”. That you want her. That fighting her turns you on. AND that you want to kiss her.
I see you turning… And this time… Your face… Is even more delightful than before.. How… is that even possible… i do not know… Nor do I care…. I’m shaking… There is a thick line of my juices running down the inside of my left thigh.. And I don’t care to hide it… My breasts, rising and collapsing.. as I stare at the horizontal rakes I left on your tits… Ten drags of them… And then, that vertical rake I left on your stomach, running down your sex and coming off your back… A literal T-shape carved in your flesh… And yet… You still stand…
You’re sobbing, but you are still intact….. And… I just watch your lips part, as you begin to talk.. Your voice soft… Your voice… Gawd.. it’s… TAMED… Is that how it sounds… to have someone’s complete obedience… But it’s not me that earned it… It’s the voice over the PA… The voice that right now, I would do… ANYTHING for… To please…. Right now, I would even if I don’t get the money…
That voice has showed me… pleasures more than I have ever felt.. And right now…. I want even more….. You purr that it felt good and my eyes go wide… My breath caught in my chest as you shyly look away… And then the voice turns to me, asking me about the truth… And as if I’m in a dream, my lips move on their own accord…. “I lied…… I fucking lied….. If she’s a 6… I’m a 4…. She… She… She’s…..” I stutter for words, shaking my head…. as I sight warmly and add; “I”ve never wanted another woman before, as much as I want her right now…… I’m fucking DRIPPING at the thought of…. feeling her flesh on mine…. Of feeling her teeth on me again… her pussy against mine… I want to kiss her until our lips bleed…. I want to fuck her until our hips crack… I want to make her cum until she passes out of dehydration…..”
The voice then pauses… And I stare at you… I don’t break my gaze at you, even as you shy away… Slowly moving your eyes back to mine as you hear my confession…. “Ewa… Go to Scarlet… And… Kiss her… From there… Do… what you may to each other… Until I tell you otherwise…..”
My eyes go wide, my breath held in my chest and I RUSH at you… My feet kicking my heels off as I crash my body into yours, my arms wrapping around your body, my left palm cupping the back of your head and I PULL you in, pressing my lips on yours, kissing you… passionately… invesively… almost… violently… My breasts grinding against yours… My hips… bumping… and brushing with yours…
I am broken. Utter and completely. I have no resistance left against the voice. She has shown me the pain that comes with disobedience, and so even as she asks you to admit your lies, your attraction to me, your desires, I keep my gaze averted, my head hung low, and my shoulder slumped. I don’t know what I expect, a denial, a lie, and then for the voice for me to hurt you again, but instead you say it. You admit it. And when you do, my head raises, my eyes, filled with tears already lock on yours, and then as you run to me, to do as you were told, I run to you. Together we meet in between and I raise both of my palms to your cheeks, and pull you into the post passionate kiss I have ever given anyone.
But as passionate as it is, we match its intensity below, pressing our bodies together, for the first time without them being at war. Our hips adjusting, and shifting, so that we can thrust together and purge ourselves of a lust pent up by hatred and pain. Our tits of two different ends of the spectrum meeting, and our nipples dancing together as their own set of lovers finally reunited. Our tongues swirling, pressing, and gliding together. In your mouth, and then in mine. Back and forth. The moment is incredible. My heart pounding. My stomach filled with butterflies. My head dizzy with desire both for what we will do, and what I have wanted that is now taking place.
This entire adventure has been intoxicating. Mesmerizing. Unforgettable. And as we spin, each of us guiding the other in a moment of passion and dare I say love, each of us kiss through wide, ear-to-ear smiles. Finally we slow and steady. Each of readying our hips to slam them together. Each of us ready to truly give in to the lust we have built up through war. It is then that I pull away from our kiss, look deep into your eyes, and then open my mouth to tell you — to tell you
“STOP!!!!” The word comes as a sudden shock, like a hammer strike on an anvil, shattering our moment of being lost in each other. Then, before either of us can react, leaving us only time to look into each others eyes, terrified of being separated, the voice adds cruelly. “Fight until one of you is unconscious or I say stop.”
Our bodies meld together… BOth warm.. Both sweaty… Body shaking… Yes, my breasts are larger, but your nipples are as long and hard, if not more… The soft skin dents against them, while our hands wrap around the other… Embracing.. We KISS… It’s a passionate… Wanton… Horny kiss of pure LUST… Of pure BLISS…Moments ago we were biting each other.. Clawing each other… Slapping each other… And right now… We’re…. grinding our naked bodies together like two war-torn lovers who met on a battlefield…. I feel your hips sway and swat, grind, smack into my own…. My pussy aching, from your teeth, but I can feel the shiver in yours from my clawing… The welts my nails left on your tit flesh are too obvious to hide as they rub against mine… But.. I don’t care much… I just want to hug you until we enter each other’s chests…. Moaning, lost in the kiss….. And finally slowing down, we pull apart, breathing hard.. Our hips pressed, gyrating, moving in a soft, steady motion… Your lips part, you are about to whisper something to me… My heart POUNDS hard… Will she… say what I want to tell her?? But then… The crackle of the PA erupts, carrying the words… The command to stop and then…. My heart sinks… I find myself staring at you…. My heart pounding….. What… WHAT??
I feel your fingers tightening around my body… Mine around yours… The gentle cupping at the back of your neck turn into a firm claw… And I feel yours on my cheek doing the same… But we hesitate.. And the voice continues; “Ms Scarlet. Ms Ewa. You have 5 seconds to comply, or you both are disqualified, and I assure you, you will be leaving through separate doors, and will probably NEVER see each other again… Five… Fo—-” Before the voice finishes the ‘four’, I am already shrieking, my fingers reaching up, my left burying into your short, red mane and I give it a hard, sharp YANK back, grunting as I kick my left foot forwards, hitting your right shin, as I twist my body, grinding my hip into yours and we spin, CRASHING to the blue mats in a HEAP…. My eyes squinting, almost burning in tears…. Knowing I don’t want to do this.. But I need to… Yes, for the money, but also because perhaps, maybe, if we both reach the finish line… together… we might walk through the same door, and not lose touch of you….
I cannot convey the pain in words, nor sing it in song — I could not paint it with brush, or mold it with clay. After all this — all we have done to each other, all we have suffered through together, I want you soo bad. To kiss your lips softly. To look at you with love. To hold your hand, and stroke it as we slowly purge ourselves of the hate that lead us here. To salve the wounds I inflicted. To build you up, instead of tearing you down. And for a moment, one sweet, blissful moment, I had it in my grasp. Had your body against mine. Had all the pain and rage in my heart dissipate into a fog of forgotten regrets — until she said it. COMMANDED IT. “Fight” No! NOOO!!! WHY!? GOD WHY!?
I should fight, but not you. I should break, but not your body, but instead the voice’s control. But it is too late. Far too late. As she has earned our obedience, yours through pleasure and mine through pain. And so without question, or a pause greater than a dejected breath, our softness turns hard. Our exploring fingers become daggers. And our closeness from desires, becomes the same, but of fire.
A fire we let spread like an inferno, as we grab each other, and twist. Latch on, and tug. Just the thought of it, before action, brings me to tears, rivers of them. I don’t wasnt this. Not anymore. I wanted YOU! But my will is meaningless, and my wants wasted. That being the case, we writhe, again at war, until together we slam down to the mat. There, we land side by side, and through the tears we lock eyes. Through our grief, we communicate. We heard her threat. If we don’t comply, we lose the money. If we don’t comply, we are disqualified. But more than that, if we do not comply, we will be separated. Stolen from each other. Robbed of all we want now, and all we could become thereafter. And so desperate to stay together, at whatever costs, we hurt each other again. And as we do. Each pouring it on, I see it fading from yours, and feel it doing the same in mine. Our connection drifting, and our own body’s anguish turning us hard, and against each other. Our smiles turning to frowns, then sneers, then glares.
A glare I give you, as tears again flow down my cheeks, and my hands move between us, press to your chest, and then squeeze both of your incredible tits. With them in hand I wrench, and claw, dragging my nails down their length to your hard nipples. As I work them, I shoot my legs between yours, and lock my thighs tight, wanting to keep you grounded, and in reach. For more pain. More punishment. Hoping that if we are hard enough, the voice will let us be soft, once again.
The way we spin and crash down, matches the way my own heart sinks down that dark abyss of emotion… The dark pit where my dreams that this.. torment is about to come to an end, a HAPPY ending, all go up in flames and smoke… We crash down… HARD… And even the tackle turns into us crashing to our sides, and we begin to SPIN and ROLL wildly…. Claws clutching to flesh, our legs kicking and curling…. Naked bodies mashing…. Smooth thighs flexing, calves locking, and abs rubbing…. And after a dozen or so rolls, we settle on our sides… Clenched tightly…. Grimacing and staring at each other… Every bit of passion, emotion… Every part of softness hardened into jagged edges, as we groan and struggle…. I can feel your strength… Your muscles… You’re… strong… Your thighs, wrapping around my right leg, tightening, strangling it, and I can only respond by sliding my left leg under yours and around, kick and curl until I find my other ankle and I lock it…. Matching you in a counter-grapevine…. Both flexing our powerful limbs… In a war that could only end when one of our legs fail… or her femur is snapped by the other….
But your fingers…. Slide down between us.. I feel them shifting.. Moving.. spreading around my breasts… and curl… then; “AHIIIEEEHH!!!” mye eys shut in pain, as your nails bite… claw.. Maul my larger tits… There is more of them for you to maul than there is for me of yours… You claw and twist, and I reach for your hair, shaking your head wildly, but you clench and shriek…. Slowly rolling me to my back… The PA crackling again… but not to ask us to stop… not to tell us to end it.. But to commend you; “Yes… Yes… VERY good Scarlet… Now… Bite her… Bite her bloody!!”
I see your eyes squint.. And your jaw widens… I shudder, I remember how your teeth felt… And your head tilt… Your neck craning and you move, inch by inch towards my right breast… But I tighten my grip on your hair…. I grimace… STruggling.. My thighs trembling… The panic making them flinch a bit and yours clamp tighter.. Making me CRY in pain… And my fingers shudder, your head lowering even more… It’s a vicious cycle that brings your mouth closer and closer to my tits… And as it comes to just a couple of inches… I pull my thumbs out and I PUSH them against your eyes!! You shut them, and my intention is not to claw your eyes out, but to press my thumbs on your shut lids, and pressure! I hear you cry and your head pull back and I YANK hard, rolling us over, and we go tumbling, not once, but twice, but I settle atop of you… The PA crackling again; “GOOOD Ewa!! Excellent!! Now, Make her pay!!!”
But I don’t need the instruction or the motivation… As I’m already pushing my head down, and I clamp my teeth on your left shoulder muscle.. The same part I bit earlier….. The mark is so easily visible on your porcelain skin… And this time.. I know I won’t bite to hurt.. No.. I will bite to make you BLEED…
Locked in equity of purpose and design, we roll, legs locked, lips snarling, eyes locked together. On and on it continues, with us almost lashed together by our desperation and mental fatigue. It seems like we will continue in that way forever. Our sweat-covered bodies rubbing as they roll, and our tired muscles straining and we struggle. But suddenly, as I cinch in my tight clawing and kneading of your tits, I feel you weaken, just a touch, just enough for me to get you on your back. Immediately I move to mount you. To straddle you. To take ownership of you. But then I remember and regret, our locked legs. SHIT! I can’t. And so from that awkward position atop you, I begin to pour on the punishment. Wring after wring, prying your tits so hard I feel like they might come off your chest. Then I hear the voice. “Yes. Yes. VERY good Scarlet. Now. Bite her… Bite her bloody!!”
I almost smirk at the command, our brief moment of empathy, care, and dare I say love having faded from my memory, as I begin to lower myself. I want it. Your nipple in my mouth. My teeth around your supple, fucking amazing breast. GOD! I almost faint, I want it so bad. And yet, despite that desire, I tease you with a overly slow descent. Making you watch in horror as I lean closer and closer. I can see the fear in your eyes, and I love it — my mind having devolved to madness again. But then you do it. Driving your thumbs into my eyes, mid-blink, catching and holding my eyelids closed. There you dig them, harder and harder, until I fear they will be burst out of my head. In reaction, almost on instinct, I let loose your tits, and shoot my hands to your wrists. Then, as I try to pry your fingers from my eyes, you roll us, once and then again. Atop me you stop. Before you even capitalize, the voice issues a new command: “GOOOD Ewa!! Excellent!! Now, Make her pay!!!” Words I can barely hear, as I finally pry your hands away. But such a victory is short lived, as you lean in, and bite my shoulder. Just where you did before.
With your teeth latched on, no partially like before, but fully — digging them into my flesh, as hard as you can muster, I release your wrists, and move them to your sexy thighs which you pried free, and used to straddle me at the end of our roll. The push is strong at first, but then the PA cracks on again: “Stop, Scarlet — let her. Let her bite you. Give in to the pain.” The words steal from me everything. Hope. Resistance. Force. Leaving me to soften against you. My pushing on your thighs ending, though my hands remain there, my fingers flexing as you apply pressure, an unintentional communication of my agony as I try to endure.
As you bite down, harder and harder, I shriek, a wail which then turns into a pathetic groan, and then a soft, tortured whimper. One that I share with you, as you lay atop me. Your breasts pinning me to the mat. Your stomach sealed to mine by sweat. And your mound hovering above mine, as you drip onto my kitty, and I in turn drip onto the mat.
We thrash and fight. Desperately, viciously. Intimiately. And you almost overpower me. You almost outroll me. Out-catball me. And finish me off. But I catch your eyes. I press in. Wedging in an attack so dirty, that I have to convince myself that I’m being kind while executing, but ensuring that my nails are not pointing into your eyeballs while doing it. We flop over, and I have you back. The PA crackling, telling me to hurt you more and I latch my teeth. I bite. I gnaw. I feel your body shuddering under me. Our legs loosening and I pull mine out, I straddle you. I press down. I can feel my aching, bitten pussy pressing down on your scratched one. My legs wider, spreading my labia more and making them press down on yours, like a wider maw engulfing your own.
All the while, my teeth, they gnaw on your shoulder I bite. I bite viciously and wildly. My tits grinding on yours. I feel your hands leaving my wrists, moving down, grabbing my thighs, nails biting into my flesh and muscle, as I ready myself for a new wave of pain. Squishing your shoulder muscle more, tasting the coppery blood wetting my teeth, softly oozing down my lips, dripping along with my saliva and sweat to a create a pink’ish puddle on the mats. When suddenly, the PA goes off “Stop, Scarlet — let her. Let her bite you. Give in to the pain.”
My eyes go wide, and I shudder. I feel your fingers relax around my muscles. The pinch you had on my Quads, dying in the womb, as your hands retract, pulling back, splaying outwards and you lay on your back, shaking, whimpering in pain. Your body shuddering, sobbing. And my mind explodes with emotions. No. No. this.. this is not fair. this is not RIGHT! I loosen my bite on your shoulder, and I just… lay there for a moment. heaving. Panting. Just pressing my teeth on your skin…. Pretending to bite, but I’m not…… Simply…. pressing together.
against my ears as you whisper; “What… are you doing… they will.. disqualify you.. stupid… bite me.. bite me i can take it….” But I breathe hard… and slowly I press my palms on the mats and I slowly sit up… My kitty.. GRINDING on yours… My breasts, lifting few inches off yours, hanging down… Panting. I stare at the camera.. defiantly…
“Ewa — What are you doing?” — The PA crackles in a cold voice. “This is not right.” I say in as calm of a voice as I can.” — “Ms Sonnet, we warned you about disobeying —” I scream out, interrupting. “I am NOT disobeying you… I am giving you what you want. You want us to test each other. Torment each other. RIght? I get it. Then God damn it, let us fucking fight. Give her a fucking chance. I don’t fucking need a handicap to beat this BITCH…” I scream out the last word, trying to really punctuate it, as my emotions turn… Part of me feeling guilty for uttering it; “… I don’t need your charity… I can take her… So how about you fucking test us… for REAL…..”
I breathe hard…. My heart pounding… I know I’m taking a huge risk… I know they were going to let me ravage you. Hurt you… And I could not take it.. I couldn’t let you… be this hurt unable to defend yourself…. I don’t know why.. But… I just.. couldn’t….. “Very well.” The PA crackles, with a hint of sarcasm. “Please, Get up and walk to the Love seat.” I glance down at you, and slowly, I push myself up, moaning, as our skin peels off each other, after being stuck together for so long, it feels like a waxing strip getting removed….. I can’t even get up fully, so I crawl on all fours to the love seat, and I holding the edge, I pull myself up. And I see you doing the same across of me…. “Kindly, face each other, and spread your legs…” I swallow hard, and turn… Facing you…
We’re not dimwits, so i spread my left leg higher, while you slide your right leg over my left thigh…. I slide my right leg over your left hip and curl it around… Inching closer. “Now. Scarlet. Ewa. I want you to… Trib each other…. Slowly…” I pant, staring at you… What? Are we getting… rewarded?? But without hesitation we lean in and “oooohhhhh…” I mmoan as our spread kitties touch, and we start to slowly move, gyrating. Grinding… My chest heaving… Covered in ugly welts and rakes from your clawing…. Bleeding slightly; A minute passes, and I can feel my juices seeping… I’m so.. fucking wet… and so are you…… A small puddle forming on the leather between us…. “Now.. Kindly.. reach for each other’s throats…. With one hand… I want you to choke each other… While tribbing….. I don’t want you to stop, until one of you passes out.”
We must obey! And so I do. We are hers to command, and so I relent entirely, giving my body to yours. Hurt me, Ewa. Bite me. Gnaw on my flesh until we have given this bitch enough. Given her whatever sick, sadistic trigger she needs. But as soon as I make peace with it: my fate. As soon as I shift, slightly, and relax my body beneath you, almost snuggling with you, in this agonizing bite hold, you stop. The pressure of your body against mine. The force of your bite on my skin. No, Ewa, what are you do…. I think to myself as you just lay there atop me, relieving the pain. Oh the relief is incredible, the pain having been so intense. But, even with that, I know what you are doing. Know what it might mean. She’ll punish you. She’ll have me punish you. Have me destroy you, for not destroying me.
After our moment of simply pressing together, you go to rise off of me. In reaction I wrap my arms around you, to try and pull you not only back down, but back into your bite, but I can’t — the wound on my shoulder too harsh to be ignored, or stressed by such an attempted application of force. Then, as the sound of my own heartbeat fades from my ears, I catch the tail end of you telling the voice that you can beat me. That it was unfair. The words hurt and anger — impress and terrify, all at the same time.
As we wait for a response, I reach up, and softly lay my hands on your hips; feeling your sex atop mine, and your labia cupping my own. Finally the voice responds. “Very well. Please, Get up and walk to the Love seat.” At the response, we pull apart, small, cute, breathless whimpers coming from us both as our sweat-stuck skin separates. At this point neither of us can stand, nor walk, and so we each crawl. To the loveseat, and then atop it. Once there, further instruction comes: “Kindly, face each other, and spread your legs..”
In a blink we know, and in a second one we position. A scissor. Tribbing. My clit vs yours. My clit AND yours. Whichever way she wants to see it, we want it. We need it. And at least for the moment, we will be allowed to please each other and ourselves, without pain. Something I am thankful for as my shoulder bite aches, the blood that leaks from it only then beginning to dry. But there is NOTHING dry about our kitties, as we slide together, crossing legs. NOTHING dry about our entire lower halves as they align, connect, and lock around each other — our thighs trembling from fatigue, excitement, and desire. When such a cataclysmically intense meeting occurs, I gasp as you moan. My eyes closing. My heart pounding. My entire body trembling.
As if we needed her instruction, the voice gives it: “Now. Scarlet. Ewa. I want you to. Trib each other. Slowly.” A command that comes not after our first, or second, almost hidden grinds, but after two or three. And yet, despite that start, with her permission we begin. Our breaths quick, deep, and taken desperately. Our weakness plaguing us in all ways, save for the energy we pour into each other through our tribbing. The pleasure that comes helps me ignore the wound on my shoulder, the claw marks that scar my body, and all the torture she and we have been put us through. Despite the ordered pace, we have worked each other into a lather in seconds, and continue to build it as we drag our clits against each other. I can hear it echoing off the smalls. Smacks. Splashes. And our own moans echoing back to us. God it is incredible! So incredible that my eyes open in panic. Oh no, she’s going to: “Now.. Kindly.. reach for each other’s throats…. With one hand… I want you to choke each other… While tribbing….. I don’t want you to stop, until one of you passes out.”
Again, my heart is broken. Again, our world is set afire by this woman. And yet, despite our frustration. Despite our deterred desires, I reach up, out, and move my fingers to your throat. Tightening them there around. My eyes locking on yours. Conveying every emotion there is, though through a waterfall of tears. Not only mine, but yours.
This is… Heaven…. This is… Hell… This is… everything I’ve wanted in my life, and never got… This is everything I’ve FEARED and DREADED… It’s what kept me from reaching far, from soaring high… This is the adrenaline rush that years of suppressing myself because of the ‘what if’s filling my mind have stopped me from getting. Here I am… Leg-locked with this… gorgeous woman…. Feeling her soft thighs brushing against mine…. Their insides sliding like silk on… silk…. each gliding motion ending with that electrifying jab of our clits… That jolt of pleasure that travel through every pleasure sensor in my sex, up my spine, to my brain, and from there, spread through every muscle, tendon, and fiber of my body. Every touch of our clits causing one to bend to the side, to flatten like a button. To glide up across the other… Or the other way around. No touch is like the other. And it’s evident by the random pulses traveling through my muscles and limbs.
I gasp… I moan… I shudder, I can feel my palms sweating, sliding against the leather.. I almost fall back into the arm of the love seat, but I brace myself on my elbow, and you… You don’t relent… Your eyes widen, and your hips piston…. grinding harder, faster… harrrrrdeerrrrrr… Making my head toss back, hair flying back… Gasping in pleasure… Biting my bottom lip as your clit assaults mine… Curling my toes… My abs tighten, and I sit up, and toss my left arm over your shoulder, wrapping it around the back of your neck and I pull you in… Our foreheads pressing… Sweat gliding down both… Our eyes locked.. Nose-tips fencing almmost like our clits… Our breath churning across the others lips and chins….
I get a higher point with this, and I start to bear down on your clit…. Grinding. almost beating it down… and you squeel… Your body shuddering, taking your own share of toe-curling bliss when the PA crackles, and… it gives us the comand… My eyes go wide… And I swallow hard, and for the first time in a whole minute, we miss a beat…. Gasping, as I stare at you… No… Fuck… NO….. Your right hand moves up, I feel it sliding slowly across my belly, over my breasts… TOO slowly… Your eyes screaming at me to reach for your throat too… You’re giving me all the heads up you can, but I don’t move.. until your fingers wrap around my throat and tighten.. And I GASP… My eyes going wide… My teeth clench.. My lips peel back…..
My right arm, remains around the back of your neck, my left hand sliding up and it wraps around your own neck, just like you did… to mine.. And I begin to.. squeeze…. We gasp.. Groaning…. Fingers tightening.. Our hips… barely moving… Our clits…. pressing tightly… The PA crackles again; “Come on.. Don’t stop.. Trib… have neither of you heard of auto-erotic asphyxiation?” The voice purrs sarcastically…. My eyes staring at yours… I begin to rock faster, grinding, rocking, moving my hips… My windpipe contracted… I’m gasping for air… It’s coming in… But… diminished…. It’s not a full choke like a smother or a noose… The fingers are leaving some air in.. Which means this will be longer, and more streneous than I initially thought…. The puddle beneath us on the couch slowly expanding… Touching our buttocks… Our hips moving faster… But not as fast as we started… But each grind is… harder…. Both trying to.. GRIND… and CRUSH.. the other’s clit with her own….
In the bliss of it all. In being allowed to touch you, without causing you pain. In every glorious rock back, and stroke forth. In every meeting and meshing of clit, I missed it. You’re trying to dominate me. Trying to best my womanhood with your own. Here I was, thinking that though she had ordered us to do it, we were taking the moment for ourselves. But now I see it. The smirk on your face. Now I feel it, as you try and leverage your labia over mine. You cunt! Traitor! I think. I dwell. My face hardening, as my fingers tighten around your neck. Angry. Frustrated. Feeling tricked, though I should have just listened. I can beat this bitch, you said. Let us fucking fight. I can take her. The words flood back to me, and the memories of your comments about my body find themselves let loose from broken levies.
“Bitch!” I curse without wind, before I spit in your face. Just as my thrusting into you picks up pace, and my angle shifting, to pin your clit with my own. My face now a scowl. My reluctant fingers turning to a vice grip around your windpipe. All as I find the motivation to strangle you. To fuck you. To ride you into unconsciousness and orgasm. Harder and harder our tribbing becomes. Until I have lifted myself fully off the loveseat cushions, using my height to fence your sex, and escape those parries you try and deliver. And yet despite that intention, I find your mastery of your body so close to my own, that despite my desire to dominate you, I am moaning. Even as darkness begins to cloud my vision. Whimpering with pleasure, even as my lungs burn. Screaming, in short, windless cracks of a voice, ever as my body starts to shake from lack of oxygen. Those signs be damned though, I settle it. Narrow my eyes. And push myself to win this engagement, no matter what.
“Two hands now. Don’t let her win.” The PA reminds and allows, prompting me to shift, to not fall, and then raise my second hand to your throat. But as it travels, I let it stop, hover, and then slip between out mashing mounds, to rub you clit for a few stolen seconds. Hoping that that advantage, any advantage will allow me to best you, in this game of pleasure and purloined breath.
Our eyes widen, so do our lips. The fingers wrap. Squeeze. At first. But as you sense my tension. My desire to…. BEST….. you… Yours turn. Your perfect alabaster complexion turning crimson. It’s always first to show the strain. And you call me a ‘Bitch’ with a breathy voice, then you SPIT on my face. My eyes go wide, and with a raspy, croaking gasp I snarl back; “CUNT!” And I SPIT back at your face. You spit again, and I do it a fourth time. Our saliva dripping down our cheeks, drooling from our chins. Our intensity evident. Your strong legs push up, lifting your hips, and I slide off you, as you begin to swing your hips. Like an expert swordswoman, using your fully-engorged clit like a little blade, fencing, stabbing, parrying. My right foot slapping down on the floor and I lift up, trying to match you, despite your height. And I rapidly discover that even in defense, the jolts are the same. Our targets are the weapons.
Our bodies gleam with the sweat. Two perfet, contrasting speciment. Not only in hair and skin color. But our shapes. Your thicker hips and thighs carrying more mass than my slender ones. While mine show the definition of the muscles a bit more. Our waists, both slim, for that hourglass figure. And then our chests are the exact opposite, with mine curvier, fuller, bustier. Lending to each of us her strengths and advantages. But unfortuantely to me, at this moment, its our lower bodies that are dueling. Fighting. Fencing. And as much as I’m doing my best to show that I can sway, swing, and drag as good as you. Your thrusts carry more mass and impact to them.
And as minutes pass, I can feel it. And I am not sure if you are detecting it too. But soon, the PA crackles “Two hands now. Don’t let her win.” And right now, i don’t know who is ‘her’. Who is the PA cheering for? My mind too clouded with the Oxygen-deprivation to realize the simple, blunt fact. Its cheering for neither. It’s as generic as they come. My right hand slides from the back of your neck to join my left around your throat, when your right dips down and… “uuughhh…nnnghh.. ghhhh!!!” My body shudders, feeling your dirty, cheating, treacherous finger strokes… My mouth gapes, wanting to protest, to gasp to ‘them’. Hoping they saw it. But as certain it is as they’ve seen it, they seem to approve it. Your fingers making all the difference as my hip begins to shudder, and even before your second hand wraps fully around my throat, I begin to shudder, spasm, and a gush leaves my sex….
I’ve… never… squirted in my life…. I’ve found it even.. vulgar… offensive… But right now.. I can feel it.. The jetstreams of my cum shooting out, splashing against your sex… Coating your clit, your lower abs, your inner thighs with my nectar. As the rush of the orgasm makes my fingers weaken. My choke falter, and I hear you gasping for air. No.. NO.. NOOOOO!!! I try to close my fingers again, and I do, but it’s too late, you’ve sucked enough air to fill your lungs, and I begin to gasp, my own reserves empties… My head, rolling back, my hips shuddering. The voice on the PA going. “That’s it. Choke her out Scarlet. You’re one step closer.”
One… Step… Closer?? is this.. is this not the end?? The thought fills my mind with feelings of hope.. and gloom, as you slowly push my body back, pressing my shoulder blades to the arms of the loveseat. Grinding, rubbing, humping me. And I do not know if I have felt another.. explosion… of juices between our thighs… Or if it wa just a continuation of my own outburst…. As my eyes flutter, and darkness surrounds me…. Passing out…. My fingers slowly sliding down your chest, fingers giving your stiff nipples one last flick before they slap down on my thighs.
It was dangerous. Risky beyond measure. My quick addition of fingers to our battle of clits. The voice could have caught me, and then punished me for it. But she did not. She said nothing. Even as my fingers worked you, unrequited. Even as I used them until the last second I felt I could, and in the process, pushed you over the edge into orgasm. An incredible, quivering, gushing orgasm. One which takes you as we both begin to pass. But in its coming, your grip loosens, your body softens, and you slowly drop back to the couch, our large pool of sweat rolling to your cushion, and soaking your back and butt.
Then the voice pushes me on. “That’s it. Choke her out Scarlet. You’re one step closer.” And I do, but not solely. Instead I lay you back, pull my legs from around yours, and then reseal us in a missionary position. There and then, as my lungs fill with air, and your hands drop, I slowly drag my pussy against yours. Doing so in long languishing strokes. Even as I lean in, and put us nose to nose again. There I kiss you, even as I continue to choke, and even as you fall into complete unconsciousness. For that brief moment, I have you. For that brief moment the voice lets me have you. No resistance. No fighting. No contrary commands. It is incredible, and within only a few movements of the clock I cum, gushing on you, as my hands release your neck, and grab your body, pulling it to me as I quake. You are not awake. Not there to cum with me, or know of my pleasure, and yet in a sick way, a way that makes sense in this perverted game of torture, I hold you, and whisper your name softly, my lips dragging yours along with every syllable: “Ewa.”
“Bravo, Scarlet. You have won. You have beaten the woman we chose for you to fight.” The voice praises, as I lay on you. My lips stealing from you a kiss, even as you lay unconscious beneath me. My gorgeous enemy. My defiant and delectable fellow victim of whatever this sick game is.
But when finally, that shameful, one-sided kiss ends, the voice above speaks again. “Now for your reward….” At the tone used, I know. The cruelty dripping from every syllable I give into it. The fate of it. The fate of you and I. Scarlet and Ewa. Two women, battered, broken, and half-mad, laying in a clump of blood, cum, and sweat. Liquids that drip from us as the door to our hell opens with a loud, metal-against-metal bang and a harsh, deafening buzz.
A sound that, upon its fading, reveals the clamor of heavy boots crashing down on the floor. Boots which come closer and closer, until without warning I feel them. Rods, cattle prods or something like them stabbing into my body and yours, again and again until you wake in a scream and then together, still pressed together in our beautiful nudity we pass out. Neither of us waking until days later in our own beds.
Our paths never crossing again.
Though the wounds we inflicted upon each other never truly heal.