He wasn’t coming home until late.  Work, he said, and sometimes that was probably true.  Other times, Ana could smell the alcohol, or the scent of another woman.  She knew what was coming.

Joe was a powerful man in Miami.  Ana had claimed him seven years ago, when his legitimate businesses alone made him rich.  Since then, cocaine and X made him fabulously wealthy.  Ana was a beautiful Latina of twenty-six when they met.  Her dark eyes and bright smile had captivated Joe.  Her honey skin and body seduced him.  In his bed, she was insatiable.

Then, Joe was with Teri.  But in his personal life as in business, Joe believed in Darwinism.  Back then, he enjoyed the rawness and the danger of public conflict.  And so in the early morning hours of a humid Florida summer night, Ana had challenged Teri in an alley behind a club in which Joe owned a stake.  With a half-dozen spectators, Ana beat her into bloody submission.  She took what Teri had.  Joe had been hers ever since.

But seven years is a long time, and entropy cools all heat.  Now too well-known to risk alley fights, Joe built a room onto his shore front mansion, just to hold a private ring.  Three times in seven years, Ana had defended her place as the alpha female.  Each fight reinvigorated the couple.  Joe had fucked Ana to three orgasms on the ring apron the last time. while the bitch he’d brought to challenge her lay unconscious only a few feet away.  But, entropy.

Did she love him?  In a way, yes.  More certainly, she loved the life she had through him; money, prestige, the whispers of other women of how she had taken and held it.  Most certainly, she hated the idea of losing anything to any other woman.  Now at thirty-three, Ana waited at home alone.  She had sensed when he had left that this might be the night.

After midnight, she heard the car, and the garage door.  Then Joe’s voice, low, and a woman’s, louder.  She found them in the kitchen, with its gleaming white cabinets and dark granite.  Joe was leaning back against the counter, already watching for her to appear at the door.  A redhead in a white mini dress knelt at his feet, sucking his cock. 

Ana loosened the belt of her satin robe, and let it fall open.  She wore red lingerie under it, lace panties and bra.  Her body was slightly thicker at her waist and thighs now than when she was a girl, but some would say those few pounds filled out her breasts and curves and made her sexier.  She ran her hands over her flat belly now, her head tilted forward so that her dark hair fell across her face and framed her breasts.  She felt a familiar butterfly in her stomach.  She waited.

The redhead realized at last that she was not alone with Joe; that he was not watching her lips slide down and up his shaft.  Following his gaze, she looked over her shoulder and saw Ana, and her irritated frown immediately turned to a grin.  She reached between her shoulder blades to unzip her dress, so that it pooled around her waist.  Her back was tapered, and strong.  She was a redhead who tanned, her skin more freckled than pale.  Her white lace bra cradled breasts that were bigger as well as younger than Ana’s.

“This is Sydney,” Joe said.

Sydney rose to her feet.  She was petite, Ana’s size.  “He told me about you,” she said.  She ran her finger over the shaft of his cock, rimmed its head with the pad of her thumb. “He told me what you do, to keep your place.”  She looked Ana straight in the eyes, blue locked with brown.  “I thought it was the most erotic thing.  I think about it every time I fuck him.” She wriggled her dress over her hips and stepped out of it once it fell around her ankles.  She was beautiful, and only twenty-two, and straight to the point.

“I challenge you, bitch,”  Sydney said.  “I want what you have.  I want to take it from you.”  She was breathing hard, her breasts rising and falling.  “He told me that I could have it, that it would be mine if I beat you.  If I make you submit.”

Ana held her eyes for a long moment, then turned away.  She felt an odd mix of sadness and thrill.  “Joe will show you,” she said without looking back.  “Keep your fucking mouth off his cock.  It belongs to me.”

There were no windows in the fight room, but the ceiling was largely glass. Ana saw the moon overhead when she looked up. The room was bare but for the ring. The ring was smaller than regulation size, only twelve feet on a side, a setting for intimate rather than official violence. Ana waited in a corner, knotting her long black hair into a ponytail. She had left her robe outside.

Sydney took her time. She pulled herself up the ring apron and slipped through the ropes one corner away from Ana and slowly walked to the corner opposite, trailing her hand along the top rope. She wanted Ana to see her body, to see the muscles in her legs and back, how tight her ass and abs were. She left her hair down. “Joe,” she called. “I want you in the ring too. Naked, baby. I want to see your big cock throb while I’m beating her.”

Joe complied. In his forties, he was still hard-muscled, not gone to fat. He reclined in the neutral corner between them. His cock was semi-erect as he waited, his balls heavy with cum for the woman left standing.

Sydney left her corner, walking to the center of the ring. “You know, I know all about you, Ana,” she said. “Joe told me. For example, I know Joe has been fucking you for seven years now, and that he’s tired of you. I know I’m eleven years younger than you and I don’t care how tough you think you are or how much you work out, I’m still fucking eleven years younger. My tits are better than yours. My pussy is wetter, and tighter than yours. I’m stronger, and faster than you. And most of all, I know, and you know, that Joe wouldn’t have brought me here unless he wanted me to win.”

Fury filled Ana. The arrogance of this little white bitch! She moved forward. “Do you also know, puta, that you are not the first that I’ve faced in this ring?” she snapped. She was furious, of course, because of the truth in Sydney’s words

“I know I’ll be the last one,” Sydney said. She raised her hands, shoulder high, fingers spread. Her nails were sharp, and painted white. “Come fight me, vieja.”

Ana lifted first her right hand, and then her left, lacing her fingers with Sydney’s. Their breasts just touched, the lace cups whispering as they brushed. Their hands tightened, the lean muscles in their forearms hardening. They were nearly nose-to-nose now, their breasts compressing together. Slowly, Sydney pulled their hands from 11 and 2 down to 9 and 3 on the clock face. Ana forced her face to remain still, but the pain built in her wrists. Sydney was right: she was stronger.

Ana lasted another minute before her arms failed. With a cry of triumph, the younger woman drove her to her knees, jamming her hands back hard. Ana gasped at the knives stabbing into her wrists. Sydney kept twisting. Ana’s ass slowly sank to the ring canvas as her knees spread apart under the pressure. Every muscle in her arms burned, down into her chest and back. Her head was down, her hair in her face, as she fought not to give this girl the satisfaction of making her scream so soon.

“Look at me,” Sydney’s voice was tight with effort as she crushed Ana’s hands.

Ana raised her face defiantly, and the redhead drove her knee into it. Ana’s ponytail whipped forward as her head snapped back, blood spurting from her nose. Sydney still held her hands. Ana jerked like a tortured puppet in her grip as her knee crashed into her face and throat, again and again. Sydney finally let her fall, only to stomp her head against the canvas.

Ana lay dazed, her hair fanned out, in a growing pool of blood from her nose. Sydney took her bra, just roughly peeling it off over her head. The redhead took her trophy to Joe, and lingered with him as she seductively unsnapped her white bra and slid it down her arms. Sydney had spectacular breasts, and she flaunted then whenever she could. Small nipples that jutted far out when as erect as they were now, a dark pink almost rose red. She pushed Joe’s face to one, and he teased it between his lips.

“That was so easy,” Sydney moaned. She had both hands on his cock. “You said she was a cat, Joey!”

“He hates being called Joey,” said Ana. She’d made it to her hands and knees. “Don’t you dare disrespect me, you little whore.”

Sydney kissed Joe hard, her tongue tracing his teeth, and squeezed his balls. “I’ll be back in a minute, lover,” she said.

Ana got to her feet just as Sydney shoved her hard in her chest, sending her flying back into the ring ropes. The redhead landed on her there a split-second later, with an elbow strike to her mouth. She drove Ana along the ropes to a corner, lashing fists into her face. Ana collapsed on the top turnbuckle facing out. Sydney grabbed the base of her dark ponytail and rubbed her face into the unpadded bolt that ran from turnbuckle to post. The corner of Ana’s mouth was gashed three inches out into her cheek. One hand still in her hair, Sydney dug her other hand into Ana’s pussy from behind, and lifted her to her toes, slinging her back toward the center of the ring.

Joe watched, expressionless. He’d met Sydney a month before at one of his club, and she had been doing her best since then to fuck his dick off. She was a little wildcat. He’d had her at the house for the weekend while Ana was gone to see family and Sydney had stayed naked and with his cock in her hand or mouth or pussy the entire time. That’s when she’d seen the ring and heard their history. From that moment on, it wasn’t just sex with Joe, it was sex with Joe while describing in fine detail just how she’d tear Ana into pieces. And tonight, Sydney was doing all the things she’d fantasized, and had promised him.

Like now. She straddled Ana’s hips, choking her with one hand, and carefully cut around the outer edge of one of her areola with her lacquered thumbnail.

And now. She dragged Ana to Joe’s corner, flung her into it and grabbed his cock before he could move very far. “Stay right here,” Sydney said to him. “Watch me.” Ana hung dazed, shoulders back, her arms draped over the top ropes. Sydney beat her bare breasts with a frenzy of fists.

And now. Ana pinned with the top rope pushed into her tits, and sawed back and forth, abrading her hard brown nipples.

Now. Sydney’s legs scissored Ana across her belly. Grinning triumph lit the redhead’s face as the Latina writhed in agony, her battered breasts heaving as she tried and failed to breathe.

Joe remembered every fight of Ana’s, from Teri in the alley through the three previous women in this ring. Ana was a dark-haired warrior, fearless and fierce. But tonight, this new young vixen was beating her like a helpless doll. Sydney made good on every boast. The fight was ten lopsided minutes old, and Ana had lost it. Her mouth and nose poured blood. Her firm brown breasts were bruised bloody meat sagging into her ribs. There was light in her dark eyes still but it was dimmed, a candle on the verge of guttering out.

By comparison, the light in Sydney’s blue eyes was incandescent. This feeling was so much more amazing that she had imagined. She owned this bitch now. She could do anything. Oh, the things she could do!

Ana hung in the ropes, only half-conscious. She jerked as Sydney whipped kicks into her belly, and offered no resistance as the white girl lifted her legs and dumped her over the top rope. She bounced hard on the ring apron and crashed to the floor. Joe watched from his spot in the ring as Sydney picked up Ana’s bra and followed Ana out of the ring, stomping her in the back as she dropped from the apron. She went to his discarded clothes, and pulled his leather belt from his pants. She draped it around her neck, its brass buckle nested in her cleavage, and returned to Ana.

Sydney tied the Latina’s wrists together with her bra, above her head over the middle ring rope. The ring apron was ass-high to Ana, so bound like this she was displayed with her hips and belly thrust forward. With her arms pulled up, her head lolled back. Her ponytail had disintegrated, so her black hair swept loose, hanging nearly to the ring floor. Her breasts were the centerpiece of the tableau, twin honey mounds with stiff dark peaks, beauty turned to ruin. Her nipples bled, a trickle along the blue veins that showed through her skin, a crimson contrast to the purple bruises still growing.

Sydney whipped her with Joe’s belt. Livid red stripes bloomed on Ana’s belly and breasts. Breathing hard, as if she were on the verge of orgasm, Sydney gouged the buckle’s prong into Ana’s cheek and then each swollen nipple, in turn. Ana sobbed and screamed, but did not speak. When Sydney stepped back, Ana tried to turn away from tortue, but with her wrists tied, all she did was put her back and ass on offer. Delighted, Sydney tore off Ana’s red panties. The belt lashed, again and again. Ana’s breasts dripped sweat and blood on the ring apron as her screams faded to small animal sounds of suffering.

“She’s had enough,” Joe said at last.

“She hasn’t,” Sydney said. “You know what I’ve decided, Joe? I’m not satisfied with just taking what she has. I want her to give it to me. I want her to beg me to take it all, especially your cock.”

She ran her hand over the slashed curve of Ana’s ass. “You told me how proud she is, Joe – that’s what I want to take from her.”

Her words, and the mad gleam in her eyes, made Joe’s cock harder than he thought it had ever been.

“So!” Sydney said brightly as she untied Ana’s wrists and tightened the belt around her neck like a dog’s leash. “If I am to be the new mistress of the house, Ana, don’t you think you should give me a tour? I think I want to hear you submit to me in every room – won’t that be fun? We’ll finish in the bedroom.”

On her knees, Ana followed her.

Ana fought down panic. The white girl had shocked her. She had not thought one so young would be so ruthless. She had been overwhelmed, and humiliated. Sydney had stripped her nude and beaten her to the edge of her endurance with that savage belt whipping. Half-dragged by the belt around her neck, forced to crawl on all fours like a subdued pet, her dangling breasts hurt horribly, her sweat burned in the lash marks on her slender body. I have to find strength, she thought, I have to find a way to fight back. She couldn’t bear to think of the alternative.

“This kitchen is beautiful,” Sydney said, in the room where she and Ana had first met. She lifted Ana by her leash and bent her backwards over the center island as she walked around it.

“No knives,” Joe said. Sydney scowled. She had wanted to cut the bitch’s tits, carve her initials into her. Fine; plan B. Her eyes landed on a countertop basket of wooden spoons and spatulas, and a stainless steel spaghetti spoon. She wrapped her fingers around its handle, admiring the thirteen teeth that ringed its concave bowl. “Not a knife,” she said. She started at Ana’s pussy.

Ana screamed, frantically, as this thing clawed her labia and her clit. She beat at the redhead’s arm but she couldn’t stop her. She went rigid as Sydney plowed furrows up her abs, perpendicular to the belt lashes in her skin, and convulsed in agony when Sydney turned the steel teeth on her breasts and raked her dark nipples.

“I love it!” Sydney said. “Ana – may I have this kitchen?”

Joe wondered if this young woman who had seduced him was perhaps a psychopath. What did that make him?

“Yes,” Ana sobbed at last.

Sydney twisted the belt, and Ana stopped breathing. Her back arched, and her feet drummed on the cabinet doors of the island.

“ ‘Please take it!’ ” Sydney hissed. “Say ‘please,’ you cxnt!”

“Please,” Ana whispered. “Please take my kitchen.” She felt like a part of her died in that moment.

“What’s next?” Sydney sang. “The living room?”

Ana couldn’t crawl any more. Sydney just dragged her by her leash. In the living room was a narrow oak frame, glass top. coffee table. Sydney lifted Ana and body-slammed the small of her back across it. Ana’s head hit the floor on one side, her spine bent in a cruel arc. Sydney rolled her to her stomach and dragged her tits around the glass, sweat and blood smeared like monstrous finger painting. The stone fireplace was next. Sydney split Ana’s forehead on the hearth. Sydney told her what to say, and the Latina begged her to take this room too.

The master bedroom was the final room.

With a slight pause to collect her handbag from the kitchen, Sydney slowly dragged Ana up the stairs. As strong as she was, as high on adrenaline, she had expended massive energy herself and at this point Ana was dead weight. Finally, she threw her across the king bed.

“You know, while you were away a few weekends ago, I fucked Joe all night long in this bed,” Sydney said. “I feel like I already own this room.” She loosened the belt from Ana’s neck. The leather had cut her. Sydney stroked her face, gently touched the livid ligature marks on her throat.

Ana burned with a sudden flame of fury, the final flare of a dying fire. “Fuck you,” she croaked. “I won’t. I won’t give it to you. Kill me if you want, puta. I won’t.”

“I won’t kill you, Ana,” Sydney said. “Oh no! I want you to feel what I do to you tonight for the rest of your life.” She peeled off her white lace panties, and reached for her handbag. It contained a thick strap-on.

“I will fuck you, though,” Sydney said.

Before it was over, Ana had screamed her submission a dozen times.

Sydney soaked in her new garden tub, luxuriously stretching first one leg and then the other above the suds. She caressed her breasts, buoyant in the warm water.

God, she felt amazing! When Joe had offered her the chance to fight Ana, to take her on for all this, she had been excited beyond belief. And then – to dominate that brown cxnt like she had! Joe had built her up to be some gritty, tough warrier; Sydney had made her her bitch, plain and simple.

Joe came in then. He’d taken Ana to his private doctor, one who knew his secrets and kept them for cash. She’d curled naked in the back seat, sobbing silently as he drove. He knew it wasn’t about losing him, or even the house.

Sydney sat up on her knees as he approached, water running off her hard young body, eagerly reaching for his cock. “I took everything, Joe,” she purred. “I broke her. It felt so good.”

He thought of how Ana had only looked at him as he left the doctor’s office. Her face was still, her eyes flat.

“Tell her I will be back,” Ana said. “I can’t live like this. She took everything from me. When I heal, I will come for her. I will kill her or she will kill me when I try. Tell her that.”

He did. Sydney closed her eyes, and smiled at the thought.

The End

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