Where do you even stage a three-way catfight?
"I know just the place," said Rick. Rick is my younger brother. He runs with a kind of wild crowd - I never really trusted this guy Mark that he hangs out with, for example. Speak of the devil.
"Mark got me into this place once," Rick said. "It's a huge fucking mansion, and they hold fights there. You wouldn't believe the one I went to." He told me all about it, but when he got to the part about a woman spectator stroking his dick, my mind wandered off to the way Marcy had taken my cock during the first fight, the one between Holly and Dana. I didn't really listen to the rest. Turns out I should have.
Speaking of paying attention: you can't tell the players without a scorecard. Here's the background in a very small nutshell. If you want details, read my other stories,
The first fight was Holly and Dana, over my now ex-friend Nick. Holly took a vicious beating but in the end she strangled Dana unconscious, and moved in with Nick
The second fight was Dana and Marcy, my now ex-wife, over me, and as I learned during it, over that sonofabitch Nick, too. It was a long, brutal war, and Dana finished it, leaving Marcy beaten in sand at the ocean's edge.
Holly had since learned that Marcy had been fucking Nick - still was, in fact. She learned that because I told her while I was fucking her. Take that, Nick, you shitbag. I had not invited him to this.
Dana wanted revenge against Holly. Marcy wanted revenge against Dana. Holly wanted a piece of Marcy and was very happy for a chance to prove her win over Dana was no fluke. This was all her idea, in fact.
A sweet little triangle, don't you agree?
With the help of Rick's friend Mark, I got a meeting with the older dude who ran this house, who hosted the fights. We met in his study. He introduced me to a gorgeous redhead as his wife, Monica. A much younger trophy wife, for sure. She sat in as I described the scenario. He nodded along. She squirmed in her chair, her lips parted slightly. That gave me a raging hard-on. This woman was definitely into catfights.
"The ballroom," he said decisively. Meeting over. He showed me the room before I left. It was huge, dominated by a floor-to-ceiling bay window, and anchored by a grand piano in one corner. He saw me out, past a row of portrait photos in the hall. I didn't really look at them but once in my car I had a nagging image of someone familiar. I couldn't believe it. It was all coming together. Two of the three women basically hated me now but they all hated each other even more.
Rick and I were there on the night, in tuxes, watching guests trickle in and line the walls. The ballroom had four doors, that's how big it was. The host came in at the stroke of nine p.m., the stunning Monica on his arm. Behind him was a sultry brunette - "Petra" - said Rick, and behind her another brunette. Rick elbowed me. "That's Sara," he said.
Sara. Fuck me, it was Sara. She smiled, and came straight at us. She wore a stunning white sleeveless sheath dress with a big keyhole cut-out that flaunted her clearly braless cleavage. She kissed Rick, and turned to me. "Mmmmmm," she purred, and her mouth was hot on mine. She settled in between us. Rick looked at me. I shook my head. Not now. But fuck.
Holly entered from the door to the far left. She is a little bit like a petite Kate Upton, 5'3" and blonde. But with short hair, and less zaftig. Okay, it's mostly her tits that make me think of Kate Upton. She wore a black strapless dress with a white trim on the neckline that really put her girls on display.
Dana, from one of the two middle doors, in blue. Her hair was swept up in a french twist, and her pearls dangled into the frame her halter top made of her upper chest. Her skirt was slit very very high up her thigh. She and Holly were practically twins in the tits department, except that if you hefted Holly's left boob you could feel the weight of the scar tissue from when Dana ruptured it, and if you had your face in Dana's cleavage you could see the thin scars from Holly's teeth and the corkscrew Marcy used on her.
Finally, my lovely ex. Marcy looked amazing. Her black curls were styled shorter than when we were together. She wore red, spaghetti strings holding up a tight satin bodice. She was a little smaller that the others in the bust, but had nothing to be ashamed about. Her eyes locked on me, then darted to my right. Sara. Like I said, fuck. And while Marcy stared at her, Sara ran her hand over my cock. Just a little show for one.
The host stepped to the center.
:o, you finally added the redhead that's just as vicious, that'll take on sydney?, lol
Epic man, gonna be EPIC!!! So many twists can happen in this fight..... OH MY!
The host stepped to the center.
He summarized the background pretty efficiently, I thought I think the room got the picture, although Sara injected a bit of confusion when she decided to keep her left hand on my cock while everyone looked at me, and at the same time ran her right hand over Rick's cock. All three fighters, and Monica, stared daggers at her. She smiled serenely back.
He also went over the rules, or I should say rule, singular. Dana, no idiot, had demanded it. While each woman had a motive to fight each of her rivals, Marcy and Holly didn't have a vicious fight in their past, so there was an obvious risk of them joining to tear Dana apart before turning on each other. The rule was this: two-on-one was allowed, even encouraged, but it could continue for a maximum of ninety seconds. After that, the two allies had to abandon their victim and turn on each other, or be disqualified. The host was the referee on this point alone.
The trinity fight itself was no holds barred on violence, anything was allowed. The winner would be the one woman left standing over two unconscious opponents.
He called them to a tight circle in the center.
"One hand in each others' hair," he ordered. Three heads were dragged back simultaneously as they enthusiastically obeyed.
"Fight!" he roared.
Whether the rule was needed or whether the rule inspired it, who can say, but instantly both Holly and Marcy released each other's hair and used their now-free hand to attack Dana's chest. Her head still pinned back by their hair grip, Dana screamed as they ripped her tits out into the hammock of her halter neckline.
But I knew - pillow talk - that as much as Holly hated Dana, she was furious with Marcy too, and that her strategy was to ambush.
So as soon as Marcy's focus was locked on Dana, Holly grabbed Marcy's hair again and drove the two brunette's heads together. It may have been a slapstick move, but she hit it perfectly. They hit cheekbone to cheekbone with a savage crunch. They both dropped to their knees. Holly punched down into Marcy's face, a quick vicious shot into the same cheekbone, and locked both hands onto Dana's bared breasts as my ex slumped to the floor.
What a start! The crowd, fancy dress notwithstanding, was calling for blood already.
Holly's nails had disappeared into the flesh of Dana's tits. She jerked Dana back and forth, shaking her, driving her thumbnails especially deep into her oversized areolas. Dana screamed, and shot her hand up under Holly's skirt. Her claw had just reached the blonde's pussy when Marcy landed on Holly's back, tearing down the decolletage of her strapless dress and ripping at her dark pink nipples as they bounced free.
Holly let go of Dana as Marcy dragged her back. The two of them crashed to the floor. Marcy had Holly's dress bodice jammed down to her waist and mauled her 34Ds. Holly shrieked and twisted, pounding her elbow into Marcy's face. In less than a minute, Marcy had taken three hard shots to her left cheekbone. A mouse was rising already. Holly had Marcy's tits up and out of her red scoop neckline now and twisted her nipples. When she stretched Marcy's left one out and shook her breast, Sara's fingers tightened on my cock. She remembered.
Then Dana was there as they grappled. She kicked at their heads, they were close together and she didn't care which she hit. It was Holly's. Dana's shoe split her lower lip. Holly was knocked sideways, so Dana's second kick was a clear shot into Marcy's face. That cheekbone again. She pulled her foot back again, and Holly swept her planted leg with a hard kick to the back of her knee.
They all scrambled to their hands and knees. All three sets of breasts were out, swaying as their heads came up. Dana and Marcy clashed. Holly ripped open the back of Marcy's dress, and mauled her breasts from behind. Dana stabbed a thumb at Holly's eye, narrowly missing. Holly spun away and kicked out, her stiletto heel stabbing Dana in the side. Marcy broke the halter clasp at the back of Dana's neck, and clawed at her tits. Dana's thumbnail opened the swelling knot on Marcy's cheekbone. First blood.
All three women were in a frenzy of hate. Omne trium perfectum - every set of three is complete.
The rule of three, the science behind that logic makes this catfight serene to the reader.
They broke apart, three corners of a triangle. Marcy's dress was ripped, so she wriggled it over her hips and stepped out of it. She was in only thin red satin panties and her heels now, Jesus, she looked good. Since losing those two catfights in brutal fashion, she'd become a bit of a gym rat. Her body was hard. Almost as if she heard my thoughts, she looked at me as she started to circle. "Quitter," Sara said, loud enough for Marcy to hear.
Dana heard her too. I saw her look at Sara. I had told her the story of Marcy's first fight. She was adding two and two.
Dana peeled off her torn dress too, and also moved. She had a livid bruise on her side from Holly's heel. "Marcy," she said. "You and me, on Holly. Once she's out, you can have what you really want - just you and me, one on one, bitch." This was a two-on-one motivation that hadn't occurred to me. Would the long-time friends bury the hatchet long enough to insure they could then bury nails in each other?
Marcy's face was tight. She moved past me with her back to me. I ached to have my hands on her ass.
Holly's dress was still intact, but she dropped it anyway, her face furious. She held her arms wide, inviting them. "Fucking brunette sisterhood!" she snarled. "Come at me together, I don't give a fuck. I'll still whip your fat fucking asses."
Dana didn't wait. She went for Holly. They slammed together and in that second Marcy whirled and slapped Sara like a rifle shot. Sara turned halfway around at her waist, her cheek bright red. "Fuck you, cxnt!" Marcy shouted at her, then turned and charged at her two opponents. She hit them shoulders down and all three of them crashed to the floor.
Sara was trembling with rage, staring at Marcy. I saw Monica across the room, grinning.
Dana had Holly's arms pinned back, dragging her to her feet. Marcy bounced up to, shooting a glance at me - or at Sara.
"Hit her," Dana grunted. Marcy lashed her fist into Holly's mouth.
"Two on one," the host called. Ninety seconds.
Marcy pounded Holly's body. Even after the brutal job Dana had done on Holly in their fight, the blonde had the best tits of the three of them. Marcy practically came off her feet whipping her fists into them. A minute to go.
"Keep hitting --"
Dana didn't finish, because Marcy punched past Holly's face into hers. An ambush, well before the time limit for the double-team. Dana staggered back. Arms free, Holly repaid Marcy with a shot to her tits. Marcy gasped, her head snapping back. Holly punished her with another, knuckles right into her left nipple, then wheeled on Dana.
These three weren't stupid. They knew two things for sure. One, getting tied up with one opponent left you open to ambush from the third. Two, the other two women were absolute fucking whores who could not be trusted in the slightest.
Holly's charge into Dana carried the two of them into the grand piano with a crash. Dana twisted, gripping Holly's left bicep, pushing her arm across its top. The outside of Holly's left breast pressed against the side of the piano's rim. Dana's fist smashed into its inside curve. Holly screamed in sudden, desperate pain. I knew from being in Holly's bed, fondling her breasts, that her left one had never fully healed from when Dana had ruptured it. Dana also knew that. Maybe I had told her. She switched her grip to Holly's hair, dragging her head sideways, and hit her again, crushing her breast against the solid wood. Deep in the piano, its strings hummed from the impact.
Marcy was there. Dana watched her, eyes hot with hate. She didn't want to abandon Holly; she had the bitch and was hurting her. She took the chance and drove her knee into Holly's belly. Marcy dove in and hit Dana in the ribs, in the bruise from Holly's stiletto.
"Oh, you fucking cheap shot bitch!" Dana groaned. "Are you that fucking scared of me, Marcy? Maybe you should just quit!"
Talk about cheap shots. Marcy went for Dana's throat and got it. She bent her back over the piano, and from the reaction of the watchers closest, her face said she was going to choke Dana to death. Holly was forgotten for the moment, lying on her side cradling her breast. My two brunettes; the sisterhood, Holly had said.
Sara's fingers dug into my arm, tugged me away from our place lining the wall. Rick had told me that during the fight he'd attended, the audience was somewhat, ah, unrestrained. There was the handjob he'd gotten from the brunette, and the redhead going down on the host. It was the same tonight, various couples in various stages of erotic stimulation as they watched. Sara was heading for a spot among the watchers who could see Marcy's face.
Marcy had bumped Dana fully up onto the piano's top and was straddling her, no fucking around, full-on strangling her. Dana's head was tipped back, her hair spread across the dark polished wood, her tits angled out, her grip useless on Marcy's wrists. Sara pushed me where she wanted me and dropped to a crouch. In three seconds she had my cock out and her lips around its base. "Holy shit!" said the guy now next to me.
Marcy looked, without raising her head, just an involuntary flick of her eyes through her eyelashes at the sound. Sara made a theatrical gagging sound around my cock in her throat. Marcy made a sound I can only call a growl. Sara slowly drew her lips back to my cockhead. She looked at Marcy. Her face turned tormented, broken. "Please suck his cock," she whimpered. Jesus, she was a cruel actress.
Marcy put her head down, but I saw her shoulders tremble.
Then Holly had Dana's legs, and with a tremendous backwards jerk, she pulled them both off of the piano. Marcy pitched sideways as she toppled, and her already-damaged cheekbone hit the edge with a dull crack. Dana hadn't even sucked a lungful of air when her upper back and head hit the hardwood floor. Both brunettes were stunned.
Holly only had eyes for Dana right now. She had her hair and dragged her around the piano in a shambling knee walk to keep up with her clicking heels. Her destination was obvious.
She smashed Dana's face into the keyboard. A harsh discordant sound burst from the center of the piano. The crowd gasped. Even Sara stood to watch, although she kept half an eye on Marcy and her hand wrapped around my cock. Holly lifted Dana's face, slammed it down again, an octave lower, lifted it again. Blood. Another brutal chord. Another. Then a savage glissando that drew another gasp. The keys were black and white and red now, but no version of the elementary school joke ended this way. Holly turned Dana's face up, holding her throat, and banged the keyboard lid closed on her.
Then the coup de grace, but with no mercy intended. Holly turned Dana over again, but rather than her face she lifted her tits onto the keyboard. She slammed the lid, and with a quick twist and hop, dropped her ass and all her weight on it.
Dana screamed like a soul in its first five minutes in hell. Holly wriggled her ass and bounced. She laughed. "I like her," Sara said in my ear.
Very cool, can imagine the visuals like it's happening in front
Marcy pulled herself up against the piano. Her left eye was nearly swollen shut now. She touched her cheekbone and winced; the side of her face was streaked with blood.
Dana was screaming. I could see what was going through Marcy's head: both admiration and horror, as in I wish I thought of that, followed by Holly cannot be the one to finish Dana. She scrambled and snatched Holly's blonde hair, dragging her from her perch on the keyboard lid up to join her atop the piano lid. With Holly's weight gone, Dana slumped limply to the floor.
Marcy's arm locked across Holly's throat in a choke hold. Holly reached up and back and dug the heel of her hand under Marcy's chin, and pressed her head back, back, back. The veins in the brunette's slender neck bulged, but she wouldn't let go. Holly's face was darkening. She gave up on Marcy and instead pushed her hands and feet hard into the piano, inching Marcy to the side. They toppled off and hit the floor hard, Holly on top, the air knocked out of Marcy. Holly twisted and now they were in a two-girl missionary position.
"I had her, you fucking cxnt!" Holly shouted in Marcy's face, blood from her lip dripping on Marcy's throat.
"She's mine, bitch!" Marcy shrieked back.
Holly drove her elbow into Marcy's eye. "Stupid bitch, she beat you! She'll beat you again! She fucked your man!" Now her fist.
Marcy was sobbing. "You're fucking him too," she said.
"That's right," Holly said. "You aren't good enough to keep him. And everyone in this room sees you're the weak bitch in this fight." Another fist. Marcy's eye was nothing but a bleeding slit now. Holly stood. Marcy couldn't. Holly kicked her in the face and blood spattered on her foot and ankle.
Holly was on the side of the piano where the lid opened. She pushed it up, with some effort, and lifted into place its prop.
"Oh fuck," I breathed.
"Yessss," Sara whispered, and dropped to her crouch again. God, her mouth was incredible.
The room, at that moment:
Rick, still standing in our original spot, looking betrayed because it was my cock in his dream milf's mouth instead of his. Sorry little brother.
Dana, out of her swoon, but barely. In her fights with Holly and Marcy her tits had always been targets, but this was as bad as anything she'd ever taken, even Holly's biting or Marcy's slashes with a corkscrew.
Marcy, dazed, half-limp, her stomach sliding on the piano's ribs, wet with sweat, as Holly maneuvered her breasts into place on the rim beneath the lid.
Holly, my current lover, looking at me. Me, with my cock in Sara's mouth.
"Oh fuck," I said again, louder this time.
"Who the fuck is she? Is there any slut in the room who hasn't sucked your cock?!" Holly shrieked. Sara swung her hair out of her face. "Just do the little quitter's tits, bitch," she said. "We can get acquainted anytime."
Marcy, again. She pushed herself back, then onto Holly's back, shoving Holly to where she'd been only a second before.
"Oh fuck!" I'd said it three times. Marcy slapped the lid prop away.
If you google "what does a grand piano lid weight" you learn that for big concert models, like that one, it can be more than forty-five pounds. Lift with your legs, not your back, the internet tells you. Excellent advice. Because Holly had tried to jump back at the last split-second, that was what landed on her nipples alone. Plus the weight of Marcy's body as she flung herself onto the piano.
Dana's scream from hell, earlier? A soft lullaby compared to this.
Marcy scooted across the piano and dropped off the other side. Her destination had always been Dana. With her gone, Holly pushed the lid up and collapsed to the floor as it came back down with a bang. Her once-pink nipples were red with blood. As she lay on her back, it ran down over her breasts, the ways lines of longitude run down a globe from the north pole.
I looked down at Sara. She scowled that Marcy had escaped, but as long as some woman was being hurt, she wasn't too unhappy. I pulled her up. "You know what," I said. "My life is pretty complicated now, in no small part thanks to you. I think you should go stand with Rick."
She stared at me, and I knew at that moment I was permanently on the enemy list. "Fine," she said. "His cock is bigger." She left. Monica across the room smirked at her rejection. Rick mouthed 'thank you' at me when she got to him. Like I'd done him a favor. Crazy bitch.
Dana had made it to her knees before Marcy hit her. She simply ran over her, pistoning her knee into Dana's face as she went through. My two brunettes. They could easily have turned on Holly and finished her, but the thought never entered their minds. Life is a series of opportunities missed, sometimes because of hate.
Marcy scooped up Dana's bra and wrapped it around her throat. She rolled her to her stomach and straddled her, dragging back far enough to lift her ruined swelling tits off the floor. Marcy's breasts and stomach heaved as she pulled. "Choke her out!" someone shouted. They didn't know the backstory. How Dana had said what Holly said a moment before: that Marcy wasn't good enough; and that I should have married her instead of Marcy. I knew that even if Marcy could finish Dana, she wouldn't, until those words were erased somehow.
Oooh, what can I say? ::) Except that it's deliciously dirty ... :P :D
I love the off fight reactions between Sara and Marcy, its really putting Marcy off her game.
And the grand piano press, poor Holly!
Oh my, love the tit destruction! Poor Holly's nipples...
Seems like they all want the mcs dick haha. Wonder what route Saras future takes.
Marcy strangled Dana to the verge of passing out, then let her breathe, then did it again. That took about two minutes. Holly still hadn't moved. Marcy released her bra garrote but kept Dana's head dragged back, kept her tits hanging. God, what Holly had done to them. Dana's olive skin was dark purple. Her big, nearly-black nipples dribbled fluid like a broken tap. The swelling was horror-film CGI shit.
Marcy squeezed one of them. Dana made an inhuman sound.
"It's your choice, Dana," Marcy said. "Say I'm better than you." Her voice broke a little. "Say 'I'm sorry.'" She was breathing hard. "If you do, I'll finish choking you out, quick. No more pain. I'll fight Holly alone."
She switched hands, squeezed Dana's other breast, harder, milking a stream of that fluid onto the hardwood floor.
"If you don't say it," Marcy said. "I'll help the blonde bitch put you back on the keyboard. I'll sit on the other side. For ninety seconds."
That made a gasp run through even this hard crowd. It made Sara go down on Rick. It made the redhead, Monica, take her tits out for the host, who sucked her nipple into his mouth.
"Fuck you," Dana managed to say, barely. Marcy squeezed harder. Dana bucked beneath her.
"She'll be up soon," Marcy said. Tears streamed from the corners of Dana's eyes. "No," she whispered. "I won't say it. I'm not sorry." Jesus. Dana and Marcy were best friends once.
Marcy screamed in frustration. What she wanted, more than anything, was to break Dana, to make her submit. She knew that was worse than just losing. She gripped both of Dana's tits, both hands, keeping her upper body bent back with just that grip. Dana's nipples pointed out at wide angles, the fluid now mostly blood, now pulsing.
No one in the crowd warned Marcy. She didn't hear Holly's footsteps. Dana's bra was a garrote again, this time in the hands of a vengeful blonde. Holly tore Marcy off of Dana's back the way you rip a band-aid off, a quick, violent rip. She dragged her across the floor, her ass bouncing, feet scrabbling, her dark curls in her rapidly darkening face. Back to the piano.
Using the noose on her neck, Holly banged Marcy's face into the black glossy lacquer, then threw her on top of the instrument. She climbed up after her, never releasing any of the choking torque on the brunette's neck.
The top of the piano was about a meter off the floor. Holly is about 5'3". That meant that when she turned, lifting Marcy off her feet, her shoulders in Marcy's back like a fulcrum, she had the center of Marcy's gravity something like eight feet above the hardwood floor. The bra was her leverage. She flung Marcy off the platform
Marcy hit the floor at an awkward angle of her head, neck, and shoulder. Fuck, I thought Holly might have broken her neck, but she moved. Holly climbed down, pulled the forgotten bench from under the keyboard, and positioned it where she wanted. The bra was still around Marcy's neck. Holly twisted it tight again. Dragged her up again. Threw her off again. This time, so that her lower back landed across the solid oak bench. This was not a fake pro-wrestling table, rigged to collapse. Marcy's head banged against the floor on one side, her knees, curled under, on the other. In the center, her spine bent like a bow.
Holly sat down, heavily, still atop the grand, then slumped to her side. The effort had made her head spin. We all watched, hushed.
Marcy lay unmoving, except for twitches in her outflung arms.
Dana stirred, and sobbed in sudden pain.
Holly tried to steady her breathing, cradling her bleeding nipples.
The triangle is the simplest shape, other than perhaps the circle. If you break it, what's left?
Holly pushed up to her hands and knees. So did Dana. They looked at each other, and then at Marcy.
All three on their knees, Dana held Marcy in a full nelson. Holly hit her.
"Two on one," the host said, lifting his face from his trophy wife's tits long enough to pronounce it. "Ninety seconds."
Holly spent a minute beating Marcy's tits. Then twenty seconds on her eye. Dana dropped her with a few seconds to spare. She and Holly faced each other over Marcy's limp body.
"Just like the beach," Dana said. She spit, blood and saliva, on Holly's tits. They lunged together.
What a battle, what a war!
With Marcy out of the fight, I'd see Ron have sex with her, with his ex, in the middle of that big room. Maybe for the last time ever, in case she loses. While Dana and Holly continue their fight. And while Sara is torn between intervening or waiting for another opportunity to take on tonight's winner.
I'll never look at a piano in the same way.
I really hate Dana's tits have taken so much damage. I wanted her to use them one on one with Marcy. Dana deserves the chance to beat her down in a tit fight to show her dominance in front of Marcy's ex. I wanted to see her finish Holly the same way since she had dominated her in that first fight with her. Now Sara &Dana head on in a fight of any kind would be the ultimate fight in this group.
In their first fight, Holly and Dana had attacked each other's tits like vicious dogs. Now the dogs had late-stage rabies. It was like they were operating only on some basic hard-wired survival impulse, fight or flight but flight isn't an option. The bloodthirsty crowd loved it, especially the way they went at each other across Marcy's form like she no longer existed.
Holly beat Dana like she had just beaten Marcy: hard, heavy punches into her boobs. Even the sound her fists made was different now, Dana's tits were so swollen and thick. But even though the physical damage - the bruises, the leaking discharge - just grew, it seemed like the brunette had somehow switched herself off to pain, gone deep into some desert in her mind. Holly was near exhaustion, I could tell.
As for Dana, there's no civilized way to put it, no description that lets me camouflage it as hand to hand combat as normally seen by modern humans: she tried to tear Holly's nipples off. Maybe it came with sending your brain to the wasteland to wander alone. Holly's blood spattered on the floor and across Marcy. Maybe Holly tried to find the desert too, but this pain was too much, I don't know.
And so it was Holly that broke. The cumulative shock and pain just built and built until she just came apart. It was like a bridge collapsing or a tree uprooting. She sort of melted, going from vicious warrior to panicked deer in the matter of a minute. She turned away, but I saw her eyes, and the fear in them.
At first Dana didn't move. After all the mayhem, was this a trick? Holly was crawling away, sobbing, her battered and bloody face contorted. Dana went after her, and caught her in the center of the room, both still on their knees. Dana locked her arm across Holly's throat from behind.
"No," Holly whimpered. "I quit. I'm done. No more. I can't take any more." She didn't resist as Dana worked her panties as far down her spread thighs as she could.
"No submissions," the host said. Dana drove four fingers into Holly's pussy from behind.
"Please!" Holly screamed. Dana punched her thumb as deep in Holly's ass as she could, and closed her fist. You could see Dana's forearm flex rigid. The blonde bucked hard, but she was suffering, not fighting back. I saw blood run down the base of Dana's thumb.
Dana looked at me, then looked away. Her eyes settled on Rick. Sara had stopped fellating him to turn her full fascinated attention on Holly once she'd started to beg. Dana knew Rick casually, my kid brother. "Come here," she said. Not a request. He obeyed. Sara's eyes narrowed, and Dana met them. Sara held her place.
Dana released her choke hold and grabbed Holly's sweat-bedraggled hair. "Suck his cock," she said. Holly didn't know Rick; he was a total stranger to her. She hesitated, just for a second. Dana relaxed her pussy-ass grip for a second too, then punished Holly for her slowness. A small puddle of blood grew between Holly's legs as she screamed. Mid-shriek, Rick sank his cock into her throat. Intervening in a fight was forbidden; using the audience for humiliation was just as kosher as piano torture. Still, my little brother?
"You have thirty seconds to make him cum," Dana said into Holly's ear. She twisted her hand, hard. Not the one in Holly's hair. Holly tried to scream but she could only gag. She closed her eyes, which pushed a wave of tears down her cheeks, and closed her lips. Dana released her hair, and moved that hand to a crushing grip on her breast. "Twenty-five," Dana said.
I think Holly really tried. Rick certainly did. He was fucking the ruined blonde's throat hard. At fifteen seconds, his head went back. Dana released Holly's breast and grabbed his balls to block him. I understand symbolism enough to know this was all meant for me. Dana squeezed, pushed hard under his sack. Ten, nine, etc. She pushed him out of Holly's gasping mouth as time expired, then caught his cock and pulled it to her lips as she leaned forward over Holly's shoulder.
It took Dana two flicks of her tongue at the spot at the base of his cockhead, and a stroke of her fingers down and up his shaft. Rick groaned from his very core, and Dana turned his erupting cock on Holly's weeping face. Cum, blood and tears. She pulled her fingers out of Holly's holes and pushed them into her mouth. "You lose, bitch," she said.
Then she gripped her hair again and smashed her face into the floor.
After five times, the host spoke. "This is not a death fight." Dana looked up, blankly. "Let her go," he said. Holly was unconscious. Dana stood, shaking. Maybe she was coming out of the desert.
"I win," she said.
He shook his head. "As I said, the winner would be the one woman left standing over two unconscious opponents." He tilted his head. We all followed his gaze.
Marcy was on her feet.
Nice buildup to the next stage of the fight. The Hosts presence reminds me of a young Ian Mckellen
Not gonna lie, was definitely rooting for Holly in this match. Still hope she and the MC end up together after it all. Great story!
Marcy needs a good decisive beat down from Dana. Sara needs to see it as Dana one upping the beating she gave Marcy as the what you can do I can do better type thing.
Honestly, I just want Dana to lose and to lose badly. And to get fucked by some of the guests while Ron leaves with the winner.
When our triangle first formed, all those years ago in college, if you had told me that this night, this scene, lay in our future, I would have thought it was the craziest story ever. Still, a story that made my cock hard. Marcy and Dana, Dana and Marcy.
"I beat you last time," Dana said. "Remember what I told you then, Marcy? You aren't good enough."
"Quitter," Sara again, from her place on the wall. Then a long silence. Marcy only looked at Dana. She raised her fists and took a deep, shuddering breath. "One more time," she said.
Which one of them was stronger? More like which one was less damaged at this point. I wondered again if Dana could even feel her tits, they were so brutalized. Marcy's left eye was ruined roadkill. The way she held herself, it was obvious her back and shoulder were in agony. The only reason her tits didn't look horrifying was that Dana's were much much worse.
They came together in a clinch, my brunettes, their left arms around each other's necks, their right fists driving into the other's body. Every breath was a sob. Thud. Thud. Thud. The way they turned, I was looking into Marcy's face as Dana's fist went deep into her guts. Pure torment.
Dana was stronger. We all saw it. She was steering Marcy as she beat her. The Steinway loomed large in the corner of the room. Step by shuffling step, red heels gave ground as blue ones pushed forward. Marcy's back hit the piano's tail, the curved taper in its cabinet, Dana hit Marcy's ribs, the lowest ones, the ones that break the easiest. She gripped her throat and bent her backwards. Marcy's wet curls left beads of water on the polished wood. Her arms fell outstretched on the lid as Dana throttled her. Her legs spread as Dana ground into her. Dana raised her other fist and hammered it down, like pounding a table for order, into Marcy left breast. The blows sounded like a meat hammer, the piano amplifying them. I didn't count. Twenty, maybe. Marcy's breast was as ruined as Dana's now, a swollen bag of blood. Dana dug her nails into it. Marcy's body spasmed. She was out of air.
Inexplicably, Dana let her stranglehold go. Maybe she didn't realize how close she was; maybe she just wanted to hurt Marcy more. She switched to hammering Marcy's right breast. Marcy jerked in pain but she could breathe again.
When Dana's fist came down again, flattening Marcy's breast, Marcy trapped it, both hands. She hooked her left leg up and across Dana's throat. She lay back on the lid, her lower belly and hips a fulcrum under Dana's elbow, the lid's edge a fulcrum under her ass, and dragged Dana's head and shoulders back, and down. Dana's knees buckled as she twisted, screaming as her elbow exploded in agony.
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After that, it could only end one way. Dana on her knees at the keyboard, Marcy's teardrop ass on the lid crushing what was left of her rival's tits, her legs over Dana's shoulders, grinding Dana's face into her pussy. Bedlam in the room as the host crossed the floor.
Dana was unconscious. Like one mind, every set of eyes turned to Holly. She was motionless. He raised Marcy's hand. It was over. Marcy stood, and looked at me. I caught her as she collapsed.
The first door I tried opened into the billiard room. It would have to do. I laid Marcy on the table, the perfect green felt that looked new. I peeled her red panties down her legs as she tore my shirt open, jerked my belt off my hips. "Fuck me fuck me fuck me," she moaned, panting hard. I mounted her and sank deep.
God, all those years together, it had never been like that. Her pussy was electric, milking spurt after spurt of cum from me, somehow keeping me hard through her multiple orgasms too, until I came a second time, a dry heave inside her that triggered a final climax for her. We'd left the door open, and I was dimly aware that Sara and Monica watched us, the sweat cooling on our skin.
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Did we get back together, Marcy and me? Lord no. Can you blame her? But it's a thin line, isn't it, between love and hate; or maybe it's a triangle: love, hate, and savage lust? We still had that corner. One of three.
Very interesting ending. Wish Marcy making Dana unconscious wouldve been worded more with more scenarios but a great climax. Wonder what the win had for future relationships between the mc and the 3 heroines.
Wow, a new level of violence! I rooted for Holly first, then Dana, typical for me to pick the losers. At least Marcy got her tits turned to hamburger, hope Sara teaches her a lesson!! Great work....
Thank you, bcw8! An epic chapter in an epic feud. These three women would fight on until the end of the world and beyond.
The "finishing move" with Marcy sitting on the piano lid, busting Dana's boobs and Marcy's pussy in her face is one of the most sexy catfight scenes ever.
As others wrote, Marcy vs. Sara should happen. I imagine them fighting over Rick. Maybe in the same building as this one. But maybe there's a basement, with tools to be used? With the loser to be tied up, shackled?
I could also imagine a "loser's battle" taking place between Dana and Holly. They both now have one win over the other. They might start a fight whenever they meet next, making each other responsible for their loss at trinity. They might clash by accident in some bar or pub. Only to get thrown out through the back door, then fighting it out in the back alley.
Brilliant story. Was rooting for a decisive Dana win but that ending was just magnificent. Also, sets up all kinds of potential rivalries and Marcy finally got a W maybe boosting her confidence to fight again. Loved that you connected the corner pocket and beach house series like this. Can't wait to see what you do next.