Dina the Cat vs. Red Hot Scarlet from The Fights.Sexy Discord
Dina the Cat:
It has been five years. I was an American student studying abroad, a cooking student in Moscow, learning at the feet of the best chefs there. I had ambitions to cook at great restaurants, but that all fell aside when I saw Nikolai. He was old enough to be my father–salt and pepper hair, broad strong features and a kind of cruelly handsome face, scarred by years of rough living. The eyepatch on his right eye gave him an exotic air of danger. And he saw me from across the room at that party, waiting tables because half the staff didn’t show, and his eyes burned to the heart of me.
An hour later we were in his limousine. I was naked, riding him as he slapped my flanks. I was rider and horse, and he steered my entire life away from me. I was his. I was instantly his. This former KGB agent, who, after the collapse, used power and influence to seize huge petroleum resources. He’s a de-facto god-king, one of the secret hands behind Putin.
Rich as Croesus, cruel as a cat and I was his.
Love did not begin to describe my need for his hands on me, to be seen with his eyes with lust. And how I wanted him to love me . But I am his toy. I know I am.
And I can live with that because I would kill or die for his touch.
And then, six months after the affair began, he brought home Scarlet.
Red haired-goddess, a raving beauty unlike my frankly plain features. She was FIRE given flesh, and I feel nakedly unworthy.
I never knew why he chose me. I’m…fine.. and that’s all.
When he explained that she was also his…and one day one of us would be his wife..our path was set.
Threeways on a regular basis…but with an undertone of hate and rage between us.
And then, the inevitable happened. When alone…we began to quarrel. Then fight. Seriously fight.
Hospitals were involved. And now five years on, we’ve sworn to kill each other. But he forbids it.
If we fight, he seems not to care. He likes it, in fact. Rewards the winner. Punishes the loser.
But we cannot finish this war, only live in this maelstrom, bodies scarred from teeth and nails, and minds increasingly driven to madness.
Red Hot Scarlet:
“You be safe now, ok, honey?” My father asked, as he softly pinched my right cheek between his thumb and bent index finger.
“Ok, dad.” My answer was short, because I was crying. Delayed, because I had to fight for the air to give it.
“Now give me one last hug.” As soon as he said it, I dove into him. Wrapping my arms around his body tight, as I struggled to fight back tears. Tears that I shed whenever I was saying goodbye to him or mama. Tears that dripped onto his long sleeve button up shirt.
“Now you make sure to text us when you land, ok? We’ll be worried sick until you do.” I tried to find that air again. The strength to speak through sniffles and emotion. But when I could not find them, I simply nodded. Looked into his deep blue eyes, and then turned away from him and towards the escalator up to the TSA check.
“I love you, honey!” He shouted so sweetly as I began to walk away, pulling my deep red, rolling luggage behind me. “I love you too, dad.” I muttered, without the ability to do more without bursting into tears.
I don’t think he heard me. I don’t think, in his mind, I even replied. Those last words I spoke to him — to my father, turning into the first stitch of a quilted fate made of pain.
As when I got off the plane in France, I never got to text. Never got to tell them I was ok, because I wasn’t. The man who sat next to me, having lulled me into a young-woman’s distraction as he smiled me into a conversation, talked me into lending him my phone, and then when we got off the plane, forced me into a baggage cart that took me away. Not to the departure terminal or my checked luggage, but to a small room.
His friends, who spoke a language I did not understand chaining me to a bed and fucking me. One after another. For days — weeks — months. It felt like decades, but I imagine now, it was more like a year.
A year of torture.
A year of hell.
Until one day, a man came. He was older, but strong. Mighty. And he had friends of his own. Friends, who along with that man, whose name was Nikolai, killed every last cock sucker who had stolen my life and ruined me. Cruelly. Viciously. And though so many of Nikolai’s men focused on that killing and dismembering, the graying man, with a russian accent came right for me. Untying me from the bed, and pulling me into his arms.
He hugged me and whispered words, I did not understand, though in his one good eye, I knew he was not there to hurt me.
It was at that moment that I realized I loved him. My parents never came for me like I dreamed. The police didn’t arrive, as I had hoped. Only him. Only Nikolai, the man I would die for. The man I would kill for. If only he would let me….
But instead he asks that I share him with you. A beautiful, blue-haired cunt, that dares to try and stand between Nikolai and I. A slut, who only pretends to love him. A bitch who I will find a way to cleave from my love’s arm, with whatever blade he will let me use….
Dina:
One night after a long night with Nikolai and I alone, I am half slumbering with my head on his chest, toying with his chest hair, and I ask him where he found you.
He tells me that some of his business associates had been using you as a toy, and he rescued you from their hands. Having done so, he is responsible for you until the day you die, or are strong enough to leave.
My heart swells with love for him. He’s a hard man, and I don’t know if he feels love, I truly don’t. But he has a code, and a sense of what he owes and pays.
And for her…I feel a moment of pity, but it passes as I remember her nails scrabbling for my eyes, her teeth snapping at me as we roll on the floor in any of our dozen terrible fights. It passes, and is replaced by certitude.
When he saw me waiting tables, he saw something in me. He wanted me, desired me. That had never happened to me. Back then I was a mousy brown-haired timid thing. A kitchen worker. I was quiet, too quiet.
And he brought me out, dressed me in the finest. He approved when I decided to dye my hair in the endless colors I rotate through.
He made me feel alive, and just for that, I’d die to keep him.
To be you? To have suffered so, and be rescued. To be made safe? To have home and comfort and for him to rebuild you.
No. You’ll never…not EVER leave his side.
It’s little wonder that we have sworn to kill each other. It’s just a matter of time until he relents and allows it, or until his threatened punishment is less terrible than the threat of another day under the same roof.
It has been so quiet for days. Nikolai away on business, the two of us keeping to ourselves. And there’s something in the silence that is dangerous.
When he returns we’ll want his time. both of us will.
And there will be a fight. I know it.
Scarlet:
Whenever he is gone, we are somehow able to navigate Nikolai’s large and yet well-aged mansion. One that had belonged to some high ranking communist official, before decay took its toll on wall and empire — the politics and party.
Nikolai once told me how he took possession of such a palace, as we laid together in his giant, silk-swaddled bed. Using the broken English he let me teach him to explain how he had simply kicked in the door and taken ownership. “I kick and then go boom.” He said with a deep, hearty laugh, his hands mimicking the act of holding a shotgun.
It was an awful story. A terrible tale. And yet, as he told it, I looked up into his one, beautiful eye, like I used to look at my father. Lost in his grandeur. Mesmerized by his power. Entranced by the certainty that if I could keep him by my side, I would never be mistreated again. By anyone but YOU.
You would think then, with you being the outlier and only threat to cause me pain, that with Nikolai away I would come for you. Use his absence to my advantage to finally remove the only promise of pain left in my life.
But oddly, without him we became timid. Docile. Avoiding eye contact and each other. Scared of being in the same place at the same time, even when we were forced to by circumstance or happenstance.
It is an oddness that I have not spent the time to diagnose or dissect, because I am always busy. Always thinking about Nikolai’s return. Readying myself and my beauty for his glorious return. But this time more than ever, as before he left, he told me. “When I back, you and Dina. You vight, yes? You vight hard. You vight long. And ze winner, eh….” My love pauses, as with the same hand placement my father used before saying goodbye, he makes sure I am looking at him. “She gets to have me for whole veek.”
I nod in response, though I cannot respond. Once more, just like with my daddy, too emotional and close to tears to reply as I wrap my arms around him.
Dina:
I am in my room, dressing for his return. I brush my hair, until it practically glows neon with static electricity. I apply my makeup perfectly, knowing that it’s war paint. Mascara, a cat eye liner. I accentuate the paleness of my, and contrast it with bright red lips and double lacquered red nails. My nails are shaped and ever so slightly pointed, but not long claws. Modest, but useful…I’ve learned to keep them this way. Too long…and they’ll break.
I think of your grey eyes, and copper locks.. and look at myself in the mirror feeling like a 14 year old girl dressing up at mother’s table. Dear god how I hate your perfection…your lips.. your thighs…your everything.
I hear people come and go from your room. I know you’re dressing, as I am, for love and war. My heart is beating fast all afternoon.
I slip on a very expensive set of grey-green satin bra, and panties. He doesn’t fancy thongs, so it’s a bikini cut. They are trimmed in soft black lace. I look good. I’m fine. I’m probably good enough. But I can show him how MUCH I love him. And I will.
If she makes me.
And I know her. She will make me.
I put on a sheer black dressing gown, black feathers at the collar and wrists, and tall strappy black heels to make my thighs and ass look perfect.
And at the appointed hour, I am in the great hall, ready to greet him with a kiss as he walks through the door.
With a click of heels I hear you walk up next to me…and I look you in the eyes.
“Scarlet,” I say, the single word like a 5000 word essay on the concept of utter loathing.”
Scarlet:
I stop when I hear you say my name. My tall, red heels coming to one final click that echoes through the marble-columned entrance hall. Your eyes turning to me with a muted glare, while I stand just beside you to wait for our lover.
And though at first you are content to look in my eyes, and try to read my mood. My focus. My intent and intensity. Quickly you see that I am not , like you, covered even faintly. Not wrapped in a sheer cover, revealing as it is. But instead, standing in not but lace black bikini-cut bottoms and bra. A strike at you, small as it is. More revealing by a percentage or two, but still enough in my jealousy-addled mind to show our chosen one that I am ready to fight, and that you … are not.
That play should make me smirk and smile at you, but seeing your face, and knowing Nikolai will be home soon, awakens the jealousy that I had held for you since first I saw you. Your thin body. Your pretty, innocent face. You don’t bear the same scars I do. Only those I have given you in our many battles. Leaving you more. Leaving you beautiful in a way I will never be able to match again.
I hate you for it. For everything. For daring to come between me and the only man that has ever kept me safe. I go to say it. To give birth to that loathing in words, but before I can, the door before us bursts open. Not kicked, as Nikolai once described, but pushed open by two of his men, as a third carries our love.
A love whose long-sleeve white shirt is covered in blood, and torn open in the center to reveal a vicious gunshot wound. The face of the man we love pale, even as he sucks on a bottle of vodka. His lips pulling from the bottle just long enough to demand. “Come, gi–rl-sss. I need you….” It is then, for the first time I look at you with anything other than hate. Each of us crying. Each of us thereafter screaming as we chase after the entourage and our lover as up the stairs and to our bedroom they move.
Dina:
Scarlet and I stand on the precipice of getting at it before he even arrives. She stands there with the modesty of a fucking toddler in front of the house staff in nearly nothing. She’s in wisps of fabric, and my blood rises.
We both know it will take a word, even a gesture, a raise of an eyebrow to set off the nitroglycerin that fills any space we share.
I am ready to light that match and burn when the door slams open, and his men drag him in, bleeding, dying, begging for us.
We share one glance.. not of love…not remotely of fellow feeling but fear…stark terror, and the truce is instant as we follow up the marble stairs.
His men place him on the bed, one holding, or trying to hold his blood inside his body as two others try to get a doctor here immediately by any means needed.
I still speak almost no Russian, but everyone’s role is clear except ours…hers and mine, as we stand there and his blood spills into the mattress., darkening the white top sheet. It’s the growth of a lovely, terrible rose that is the life of my one and only love…leaving.
“Kiirrrls,” he says to us, beckoning us closer… a hand on each of our forearms. He looks at us with tender eyes, and I see that he has such fondness for us both, and my desire to claw you is again, absolute. Then, he turns to his lieutenant for a moment and though Im not certain, it sounds as if he’s asking for a priest.
He knows he’s dying.. He knows there is no hope.
And I let out a cry of loss.
“No…no,” he says. “Brave…like varrior, pet. Both my kirrls are varriors, yes? Niki will be fine. Fine.”
He coughs, and blood draws down his chin
I turn to look at you.. and with a soft voice that cracks, I say, “Get out! Leave us alone in this. You don’t belong here! GET OUT!”
Scarlet:
I hear you tell me to get out, and at that moment, I hate you more than I have ever hated anyone. More than the men who stole my life away and tied me to that bed,. More than the men who raped me, again and again. More than my parents for giving up on me, or the police who never came. You DARE try to exclude me from this.
FROM THIS!?
My fists ball so hard, my knuckles crack, one by one. My blood boils so hot and pulse runs so quick I almost pass out. And while I rage, on the opposite side of the bed of you from Nikolai, he gives instructions to his men. “Go…. You and you…. Leave me vith my kirrls….” They would argue. They would stay, but like us, they know. These are our lovers’ last moments on this earth.
And so they go. Leaving us. You as you cling to our love, and me as I try not to destroy you for daring to try and exclude me from this moment — his last.
“Now….” Nikolai begins, before coughing and hacking. His alcohol-soaked blood splattering on our emotion-etched faces. “…vight vor me vone last time…. Winner gets me….” He meant to say more. Needed to say more. But before he could, he began coughing again hard. Groaning thereafter, though he kept his eye on us. Waiting. Wanting. Watching to see us perform for him one last time.
Dina:
I shrug off my dressing gown and stand before both of you nearly naked. He does not need to ask me twice. But..was that…permission? Was that the permission I’ve long waited for?
I look you in the eyes as I drop to a fighting crouch.. nails up and ready.. glaring into the pit of your black, interfering soul.
I toss my hair and bare my teeth.
“You heard him, witch. It’s time to die! Come for me.”
I have said it out loud in front of him, and he’s not said a thing to contradict me. he is coughing, wheezing…and I know, know full well that I am past rational thought, but I don’t care.
My love is dying, and in the moments before his heart stops, I WILL know he’s mine, mine alone..I need to know.
Scarlet:
The first time Nikolai asked us to fight, I was so confused that I barely understood the request. I was not a fighter. I had never been a fighter. And I could tell, in the way you reacted. In the way you looked at me, neither had you.
And so he taught us. Placing my hand in your hair softly, and yours in mine with the same gentle instruction. Teaching us step by step how to please him and at the same time, how to hurt each other.
Despite sharing that lack of experience, and needing his teachings to even come to grips with causing the other pain, Nikolai was careful to never let us bond. Always ending each lesson with one of us in tears and the other triumphant. The former forced to watch as the latter fucked him alone.
Such punishments and rewards quickly made him an unneeded teacher. For what we lacked in understanding we had innate in our primal jealousy and hatred. And so not too long thereafter, were we fighting like hellcats as he watched. Going further each time. Harder. And now, as our terrible triangle seems to be coming to an end, I crawl off the bed after you. Baring my claws. My fangs. And as I kick off my bright red heels, I drop into position, ready to pounce circling you. Hissing.
Hating.
And at the very second that you ask for it, I LUNGE. Ready to bring an end to you, and claim Nikolai for my own, before he passes from this world, to the next.
Dina:
You come for me, nails out, and I rush to meet you headlong. This is almost ritual for us.. a dance we’ve never been allowed to finish. Your hands come in for my hair, and mine for yours.
Our bodies slap together with a sound of flesh on flesh and I gasp a pained gasp as our breasts collide…the initial pain swelling to a dull ache, as I twist my hands in your hair, pulling your lovely hair taut!
“Suka,” I snarl…knowing he loves to hear me call you a whore in his own language. Our eyes meet. tears and pain immediate. Hate and fear…not just of each other, but of life without him, fill my mind.
“You…never deserved one TASTE of him, cunt! NEVER!” I kick at your shin with a sharp high heel, as we come together, his girls for a final terrible catfight
Scarlet:
Together our bodies crash with a clap of flesh, and muffled hiss of fabric. Our hands threatening with claws, but instead lacing through each others hair as we fight how he wants. How he has taught us. Our every other instinct dulled and filed off by his corrections.
“Punching iz for men, kirrls.”
“Pull hair virst, then use nailz.”
“Make it lazt. Make each a-thor suffer.”
I should gag on those instructions. Rebel against those demands. And yet I have internalized them to my very core. Each such lesson playing into our wild spin, as we glare and curse. “Shlyukha!” I spit, as if the word were my own and not given to me in whispers by Nikolai to say to you.
You driving your long, dagger-sharp heel into my shin making me scream, and then stumble. Giving you control of my hair and body, in our tumult, as I regret kicking off my own heels — giving you an advantage.
Dina:
You spit your hate…his word.. your hate.. back in my face and my hate swells to meet it. I twist my torso, satin on satin as I try to slide and crush your tits with my own.. bellies hissing skin on skin. I am alive, wet from adrenaline and the need to prove myself to him. This is hate, and it is sex embodied. He has taught us to please him with our mutual torture.. but no release for us. But I will have it.
You stumble, as I gouge your leg and I take the moment of you off balance to sling you to the floor on your belly.. There is a soft painful squeak of skin on marble as your belly drags. I gasp, and am on your back, grabbing for your hair and pulling, arching you back to crack your spine.
I look at Niki, and I beg, “Please papa.. let me kill her for you. PLEASE say I can.. I BEG YOU!!!”
and he coughs, and that is all.
Scarlet:
I want to reach for it. To feel the skin you tore open with your heel, and yet I can’t I don’t have time. For in seconds you’re on my back. Grabbing my vibrant red hair, and yanking it back hard. My neck cracking, and bending at the worst of angles, while you call to him.
Wanting to hear him say it. To give you the permission we have each begged for. Each pleaded for. And though before he always said no. Always said never. Now, he can only cough and then groan.
His weakness shattering what heart I have left, as I struggle and squirm beneath you. Your lower half nestled into the small of my back as you coo and stretch me back. Making me close my eyes and cry. Tears that have not stopped since we first saw our wounded love dripping to the hard floor, as I try to reach back for you. To get my nails into your flesh. But when I can’t, I instead dig my elbows and forearms into the floor and then rise up on all fours. Rocking left, and then quickly throwing my body right, so that I turn beneath you. Your tight grip on my hair yanking you forward and into me. Body against body. Breast against breast. And once more, face to face and snarling. “BITCH!” I hiss as I reach for your hair with my hands.
Dina:
Strong.. strong and beautiful and driven.. you rise to all fours, lifting me off the floor and twisting your body..shaking me and then twisting until we are body to body.. belly to belly again, just as he likes….
“Ven Kirrrls fight,” he told us one night, “use whole botties. Ztrain…Sgqueeeze each ottor until sgreamink. Zhow who is better. Crussssh.” And we listened, have always listened.
And now we scrabble on the floor and you grab up my sleek blue hair again, to pull, to twist, and I move with that momentum as my hands come to your face. My nails scratch down each side of your nose as we begin to thrash and roll across the floor.
“Nailz,” he said, “to ruin beauty…to make ottor kirrl ukly.”
But you’re already as ugly as a pretty girl can be. I want, instead, to make you BLEED. And I do.. but then my right hand grips your nose.. Pinching.. and my left covers your mouth.
Choke, you whore, I think… DIE!
“He’s MINE!” I cry out.. a primal cry that makes him groan with pleasure and then rattle coughs. He loves it. I mean it. If he will allow it…I’ll end you. I’ll end you, cunt.
Scarlet:
Body to body, clinched as tight as we can possibly be, we roll. Up and over. Again and again. One way and then the other, Hissing at one another, as your claws move to my face to claw, and mine keep to your hair to pull. To yank.
With all the strength I have. Drive by rage and jealousy — fear and desperation. Undyed roots snapping one after another, tearing from your scalp until finally we stop moving, and I slam you to your back. Yours hands then moving, not to claw once more and to mar my already marred beauty. But instead to seal my mouth and nose off from the air.
In an instant I have to respond. Knowing that if I do not, you will weaken me. Waste me. And then when I am unable to fight back, end me. PERMANENTLY. And though I could match you. Copy you, and try to smother you out with my hands on your pretty face. I move them, even as blood begins to drip from crimson ravines that now line my fact, to your throat. Wrapping my fingers around your neck and squeezing. So hard, I can see your face turn red, and your eyes go wide.
Neither of us able to breathe. Neither of us willing to give in. Our fates at this moment known to the three of us. A three that will soon be one.
Dina:
You wrap your hands around my throat, wringing my neck as I try to hand smother you. I arch, bellies pressing tight. your grip is the better and I’m in trouble. I release your nose, letting you breathe, though it pains me to do it.
I bring my hands to your wrists and pry them from my neck straining the muscles of my arms against yours.. and I squirm up your body, losing my first heel and try to cover your face with my small breasts, trying to rob you of breath again, crying out in pain and gasping as I pull in air.
My hands grab your hair, trying to hold your face to my breasts.. desperate to smother you.. to suffocate you in my small firm breasts.
“PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE NIKI! IT HAS TO END THIS TIME! DON’T MAKE ME LET HER GO!”
Scarlet:
I can’t hear Nikolai. I can’t see him. All I know in the world is this struggle. This war. This battle. And so as you smother, I choke. Each of us daring to try to sap the fire and energy that anger and jealousy has created within us.
And though your sealing of my mouth and nose is clever, my choking fingers wrapped around your throat is more vicious and cruel. And so on instinct — primal instinct, you release my mouth and nose and hurry to try and pry my hands from around your throat.
I try to fight you. Try to resist you. To keep choking and to drain you past any point of reason. But you’re too strong. Too much my equal to keep them placed. And so my hands fail, and when they do you turn us, rolling me to my back, and then crawling up my body. Grabbing for my hair and pulling me between your bra-cupped tits.
Once more, your attack forces me to act. Knowing I can’t afford to lose a race of stolen breath. And so I shoot my arms up, past yours, and then seal your nose close with a pinch of the thumb and index on my left hand, and your mouth shut with my right palm. Mirroring your previous attack, but also assuring that if we both hold, we will expire together.
A victory, of a sort, that I am only able to celebrate as I try to suck in air between your tits. One drip, dribble, and spray of sweat pulling into my mouth without air after another. All as Nikolai watches, weakens, and with a smile, wastes away.
Dina:
You clamp your hand over my face going after my air again, as I pull you to my tits, groaning and then silent as you cover me.. and there’s nothing left to do but the think Nikolai finds most arousing and watches most carefully.
“Bitink…lazt resort. Dayncheruss…could kill…means dezprate. Meanz nothink left. If you do? MEAN IT”
And I do.. I do mean it. I open my mouth and bite the palm of your hand, raking flesh with teeth as I try to shake my head free of your smother.
I whimper, struggle to breathe. And equally I struggle to hold you to my breasts as you struggle under me, both desperate.
He lets loose a rattle.. and a grunt as he sees my teeth work. and says not a word. normally he would tut at us.. try to de-escalate us.. but not now. He hasn’t the energy.. or the desire.
Perhaps, and long last he wants to know which of us…can take him.
Scarlet:
I bridge and twist. Bridge on one side, and lean. Bite to try to catch excess flesh between my teeth. But every effort fails. Not once or twice, but again and again. And with every attempt fallen short, my rage and hatred — my fire turns into fear. You can’t have him. You’ll never have him. Not while I still breathe, but will I still breathe?
Will I lose him to you, even in his last moments? Finding all my suffering. All my misery. All this jealousy lead to this? Lead to suffocating between my rival’s sweat-wet tits? I hate the idea. It makes me sick, while I sob into your tits.
Rolling left and right, as you ride me like a bull. Unsure how my hand smother is effecting you, or how strong you remain above me. Knowing only my own suffering. The taste of your sweat in my mouth. And the anguish I feel at being unable to free myself from this hell. To escape the breasts of my one true enemy.
Dina:
My biting is doing nothing.. nothing to stop you from suffocating me. I feel your jaws working, trying to find my breasts.. and failing. We hold each other in this place of suffering. Fighting for breath. Desperate, and arms and legs getting heavier.
The first time he saw us throttling each other he stroked himself to fountaining orgasm before he stopped, knocking us apart with strong back handed slaps… to keep us for his next spectacle, the next time we warred for rights to him.
He is doing nothing now. NOTHING.
And then, just as I think I can’t hold you anymore, your teeth strike DEEP into my breast and I release your hair and moan into your palm. My hands come forward to your forehead, pushing your face from my breasts, straining to end the bite.
You fall on your back, hand freeing my mouth and nose.. and I sob in air… and roll off you, cradling my bloodied breast.
“ANIMAL! CUNT!” I glare at you from my knees, just trying to breathe.. the intensity of the struggle already wearing me. I am ragged, hair disheveled, bra torn by your perfect teeth
I hook my claws and paw the air between us.
“To the death this time, Scarlet…” I snarl, and he says nothing. it’s.. dear god…it’s permission.
And my pussy throbs at the very thought….
Scarlet:
We hold there for so long, enduring the others every attempt at escape. Draining every ounce of energy that we once had from one another. Crying weakly as our lungs burn. Part of us, deep down, begging us to give in, to concede, to beg the other for mercy. But we silence those voices and hold.
For seconds that grow into minutes. Minutes that mount, double, and then go on. Until finally. Our mutual attempts at biting find traction with teeth, and we both release. Rolling off of each other and hacking. Coughing. Drool spitting from out mouths as we try to find air, that the other had for so long denied us.
Until finally we drag ourselves to our knees. Glaring at each other with glassy, tear-stained eyes. Each of us sniffling as we use a hand at random to wipe droplets of salty sadness away.
For the first time, maybe ever, sharing with each other weakness without Nikolai correcting us or calling us “veak.” A sign, we each sense that he must be, finally, giving us the room to battle without limits.
Something we both test. You first by threatening me, and me second by shouting to him. “I will kill her for you, my love….” Our eyes never moving from each other. Busy first in a glare and then in hateful gazes at the others body as we both begin to strip. Pulling off our bras, and then bottoms. Each pair of the latter wet. This fight, in fact all fights between us inexorably linked with sex in our minds. Something I am finally unafraid to show you as I keep my panties in hand and then lunge at you weakly from my knees. Trying to shove the wet spot on my panties into your mouth. Wanting you to taste my excitement before I kill you.
Dina:
We bare our bodies, to each other, stripping slowly, eyes locked in mutual hate.. and I am thrilled, sexually at the realization that we are finally.. at long last.. going to fight to a finish. He’ll be mine. Or I’ll be dead.
You snarl and lunge trying to cram your sopping panties into my open mouth, and I twist my head as you smear your reeking honey on my made up cheek. I see mascara on your panties.. and I know I must look like a fucking panda…mascara.. eyeliner running down my face.
I spit and sputter as you try to humiliate me.. but I am not out to humiliate you. My breast is bleeding from your teeth, and I bring long sharp nails to your breasts, taking each in hand and RAKING.. .DIGGING into your flesh.
Your nipples are pink precious stones in my palms as my thumbnails rip at the underside of your breasts. working a bite scar I gave you a year ago, and the other nails dig into the tops of your breasts.
“FUCKING BLEED, YOU WHORE! BLEEEEED!”
Scarlet:
A mess beyond all measure. Exhausted beyond reason, we wait, watch, strip, and then attack! My essence marking your cheek, as your hands latch onto my tits and gouge. One hand on each breast, your sharpened nails carving your hatred into my flesh as I scream. The sound of my voice echoing through the mansion, which at this point might be empty save for the three of us, or be filled with Nikolai’s many men protecting him in his final moments.
Either way, I fight through the pain, and just as I seal my forehead against yours, I reach my right hand to your left breast, and then my left hand to your pussy. Digging my own, battle sharpened and jagged daggertip digits into your soft little pussy. Letting some tear at lips and other slip inside to attack pretty pink walls. Gritting my teeth and groaning in pain as I mascerate your softing target with hands that have memorized how best to ruin your body.
Neither of us looking to pull away or retreat, each instead focused on causing as much pain as we can in the sight of our one, true love.
Dina:
You lean into me, intimate and deadly as I rip at your beautiful breasts. Your forehead rests on mine, and you take my breast in hand, clawing. Your other traces down my belly and you rip at my vulva, digging.. nails slipping inside me. I moan in my agony.
“He’s not stopping, us, bitch. He’s letting this…nnggg happen.” I hiss the words in gasps exhausted and gasping in your face, waves of pavoicein shaking my
I try to catch your nose in my teeth with a growl, and my left hand mirrors your move. I drag nails down your belly to your shaved mount and my thumb digs at your hood as my first two fingers slide into your velvet wetness an CLAW at your inner walls, wanting to dig out your very womb if I could.
I imagine the end of this.. crawling off your dead body.. and mounting him.. taking his last load of seed. Even if he dies.. I’d have little….Nikita.
The world is swimming as the pain goes through and through me. This war is my entire world now.
Scarlet:
Could I stand? Maybe. My body so tired and wracked with pain that it has already begun to shake. To shiver in the cold of this icy battle of hate-filled rivals. Little to no warmth gained by us leaning against each other as we tear at tits and trickling lips. You telling me in a hiss, that he isn’t stopping and me replying in no less loathsome a growl. “Then he’s finally … given up … on saving you … from me … cunt….”
My words come only a blink before we both bite. You at my nose, and me at our cheek. Each of us catching flesh and biting hard. Drawing blood and screams. Whimpers and mewls of two women who tear at one another’s insides and gnaw on each others flesh.
God, it hurts. Even compared to all the awful I have suffered. Even compared with sharing a life, a bed, and Nikolai’s cock. But all of it will be worth it when I have you defeated, dripping, and dead…
Dina:
Blood is flowing now…in quantities that would have had him rise. My nails work at your pussy, bloody froth sliding down your thighs as they work back and forth. My arm moves of it’s own accord, heavy as lead.
You are tearing at my breast and biting at my face. We are like minks fighting in a sack.. lovely maddened animals, digging for blood. The hate and the passion freeing.
I grind my teeth in your nose, trying to keep jaws closed, screaming around your flesh as we duel to the death body to body.. naked pale bodies tensed and writhing into each other on our knees.. blood dripping in perfect crimson spots to white marble…
And then I lose the bite on your nose and HOWL I bring a hand from your breast up to your face, clawing for your eyes with long red nails and trying to get you off my cheek.
There is no hesitation, no mercy. Nothing but the need to kill…to own him while he breathes…in his last.. bloody moments..
Scarlet:
I can feel your teeth sinking deeper and deeper into the tip of my nose, and taste the flavor of one layer of flesh after another coming free in my mouth. Your blood like the sweetest desert I have ever had. One that brings a smile to my face even as I sob in absolute agony.
Your claws and mine ruining the pussies that we have always left off the menu, so that we could please Nikolai when we were done. Each of us having felt the back of his hand, when we dared reach for such a delicious target.
But finally, even with our hate, jealousy, and pride pushing us to endure and overcome, we both release. Moaning in abject agony, as we reach out and shove one another away. Your back slamming into the bed on which our love lays waiting for us and watching. Just as I fall back. Using the moment to look to him — to our mutual lover, but I am too near to see him or his beautiful eye.
I then try to stand, though my lungs still burn and body aches, but before I can catch a glimpse you lunge from your knees. Driving into me and reaching for my hair as I reach for yours. Our naked, sweat and blood covered bodies coming together once more in a wet clap, as we careen away from the bed. Spinning. Tripping. And finally falling.
Dina:
We release each other. The pain.. oh god the pain is too much.. and I’d bear it if I thought I could get deep enough in you to tear your cervix, but the leverage is wrong.
We gasp in mutual release, Teeth bloody, nails dripping we sway back from each other on our knees, gore-streaked angels. Eyes wet with tears.. burning with a rage that smoulders.
You rise halfway to your feet, turning to the bed, and I snarl.. knowing you mean to take his seed.. seed that is mine!
I hiss and lunge from my knees and you turn to meet me. We struggle on sagging knees, hands in hair, teeth snapping on empty air like desperate animals wanting to eat each other alive.
Our naked bodies smear with blood as we TWIST and jerk each other, staggering.. and then we trip up on each other’s feet.
Sane people would break their fall with their hands, but we do not. That would mean releasing blood and sweat soaked red and blue hair.. and we would sooner SUFFER!
We fall right through a glass coffee table, which SHATTERS in an explosion of noise and crystal, and wrestle, violently.. desperately in the shards.
“MIIIIIINE!!!”
Scarlet:
Every cut we opened with teeth and tips seem miniscule and playful. Foreplay gotten just out of hand. Ring around the rosey, but with a twinge of pain, compared to writhing together in the glass on our sides.
The table not constructed of cheap, plastics-heavy look-a-like glass, but a true, real, handmade pane. One that slices the flesh on our arms, backs, tummies, and hips. Each making us wale in pain, but still fight. Kicking and slapping. Clawing and scratching desperately as we SCREAM at each other. “I WILL END YOU!!!!”
It is madness and maelstrom — fire and inferno — the beginning and the end, all at once. As suddenly between our bleeding bodies, I find a large, arrowhead-shaped shard, as big as one of Nikolai’s shoes. In an instant I take it with my topside hand, lift it into the air, and then try to drive it into your chest.
But you fight me. Reaching for my hand with both of yours, forcing me to do the same. Our struggle then no longer to hurt one another, but to claim the weapon that will end this battle once and for all.
Dina:
We roll in the glass.. screaming incoherently and then you raise a glass dagger up over your head to stab down at me.
Our legs are tangled, bloody pussies pressed and legs sweating as we writhe in the glass, smooth thighs are slick with sweat and blood and honey as you try to STAB me.
My hands come up, grabbing at your wrist.
“Fuck you whore….NO YOU DON’T”
We struggle, rolling through the glass, agony our every move and onto cool marble again, shards stuck to us. Arms are trembling, hands, grasping as we try to point the knife down into each other, toward you…towards me.. closer…closer to each other’s chests or faces, and then back.
And for several minutes, this is our world. High screams…nobody coming to stop us. Not our Niki… nobody. We are free, gloriously free.. and you see..through the pain in my face.. almost a smile. so close.. so close to the end of this hate.. SO…close..
Scarlet:
Neither of us are strong, physically. Nikolai wanting our only exercise to come in our battles. His servants preparing our meals to keep us thing, like he wanted us. And so as we struggle over the class shard, each of us trying to control its slow descent, we do not match might for might, but weakness for weakness. The bare sum of our exertion a fraction of what our might lover could muster in a single ounce of effort. And yet still we bring the sharp, shatter-made weapon down to us. Hoping to slip it between our bodies, and then drive it in deep.
But even as we ride and appear to fuck each others thighs to gain what little angle and leverage we can, we cannot get it between us. Our sweaty hands slipping, and the sharp edges of the shard cutting deep into our palms, until suddenly it comes free in a spurt. The transparent blade sliding across the floor to the foot of the bed as I reach for it with both hands. Crushed. Devastated that I have lose it. And in that reaction you press your bloody body into mine, and push me to my back. Mounting me on top of the glass-made battlefield, before I look back to you and with a glare, reach for your face with my claws. Digging them in deep, but only after you have lowered your upper body on top of mine, pinning me.
Dina:
I am atop you, and your torn, bloody hands grab at my face. as I grind down on your pressing my face closer as you mark and mar me..
I am at my end.. I have nothing else.. nothing left.
Except what I know that you do not… and as my hands grab at your wrists.. barely able to close my hands on your wrists. My throat is sore from screaming.. and I whisper in your face.
“Stupid bitch…he was the one who took you…to make you his broken bitch. He..hired it done…He CHOSE me. He MADE you….”
Scarlet:
“No….” I mutter.
“NO….” I refuse.
“NOOO!!!” I shout in your face.
“NOOOOO!!!!! I scream with closing eyes. My head shifting left and right, right and then left, and I cry even more than I had. Sobbing, as suddenly my claws come free from your face, and your pulls on my wrists take control. Slamming them down into the glass on either side of my head as I realize what you have sid and what it means.
That Nikolai hired those men to kidnap me. Paid those men to take me from my life, and ruin me. Only so that he could bust in and save me. Making me his loyal slut. His desperate plaything. His shattered lover, that he could watch you fight.
Is it true? Could all of this time have been a lie? The answer doesn’t matter. Just the thought of the question, has broken me wide open.
Dina:
You are lost.. lost in denial, lost in sorrow.. and I? I HATE you. with boundless passion.. and with a sigh near orgasm, I plunge my teeth forward, burying themselves into your throat. My hands leave your wrists, and grab up your hair, holding you in place as I CHEW into your neck like a wild animal at a steak. I GRIND until I taste BLOOD.
“To kill a perzon.” he said to me one night after a fight, “iz terrible. Efen to me. Still, Dina. Efery time it cozts me. Neffer to kill if one can own.”
He’s wrong. after all these years I know he’s wrong. I feel her under me, struggling , hands coming to my hair to try and free herself.. but all these years she stood between me.. and him. HATED me.. drove me to this. She has EARNED this death.. EARNED it at the hand of the only woman on earth who knows her. Who loves her. For there is love here.. dark and broken. We have lived for years as what he made us. Now we are what we are.
It could have been me to die by her hands, and that would have been…right. to die in the hands of the woman built to kill me… to feel my death as truly and deeply as my own family.
And she is going…under as the blood flows.
Scarlet:
I buck and struggle, squirm and press against your grasp. But not to fight you. Not to escape you. But to ride out this revelation. One that you inject into my bloodstream like a poison, and then thereafter, hold me down as it eats me alive from the inside out.
The pain of realizing all I did for him. All I abandoned on his very mention that I should do so. My friends, my mother, my sisters, my father…. All of it I gave away, simply because he convinced me they never came. That it was only he who cared.
I would kill him, if I had the chance. Kill myself, if I had that dagger-shaped piece of glass back. But before I can do either, you lean in, between my head and my pinned down left arm and then bite.
On instinct I reach for your hair when you do the same. Trying to pull your mouth and teeth away from my throat as I scream in pain, in rage, and in a new, fresh layer of hatred. But you hold on. Hold close. Keeping your teeth locked around my jugular.
Your legs kicking up and bending, so that you have more weight pinning down my lower body. But my right leg is outside of your left and your left is outside of my right. And so with every buck, every reaction, every movement, our soaking wet and ruined pussies drag against each other.
Leaving us, without a single thought paid to the endeavor or carnal craving given into, we fuck. As I gasp and sputter. Weaken and shudder. My right hand keeping a grip on your hair, but it softens. To the same pressure as that day Nikolai taught us. Not pulling, yanking, or wrapping, but instead holding softly. My left hand moving to your back, to once more lay itself down gently.
I hate you.
I hate him.
I would kill you if I had the chance.
But now, beneath you, and as an orgasm tears through my body. My eyes close. Lips take a final gasp. And moments of shaking thereafter, I go limp.
Killed by my rival.
Murdered by the woman I was made to writhe with.
Dina:
Your blood flows over my chin and breasts, spurting over my face and tits. I am newly baptized in the sacrament of your blood shed for his sins. And I come. I come hard as I realize that I am the victrix, the woman who lived.. His woman.
And as you slump to the carpet, pretty grey eyes as lifeless as a doll. I love you.. I hate you.. I can’t have you look at me.
“He’s….mine… cunt… mine”
I take my claws to your face and with a savage growl, I claw your eyes out.. so you can’t look at me anymore. Can’t JUDGE me.
I shake my hands free and crawl to the bed. To Nikolai.
“Papa,” I say. “you’re mine.. I love you. You’re mine.”
And I use my arm to pull myself up, and try to mount the bed. He stares at me with his one good eye, glazed as yours was before I clawed them out. No breath. No life. No soul.
He’s gone. Dead.
My prize died maybe minutes ago. I have nothing. Not even you to hate me. Not even you to know me. Im destined to whore for his lieutenants… and be…nothing.
And I laugh. I laugh with the pain and madness of five years tearing from my throat.
It was a tray of canapés I was serving when saw him. just so mundane, and I’ve become this…thing.. and now not even that.
His gun is in his holster, heavy.. nickel plated, marked with the insignia of his unit. It smells of blood and oil as it goes into my mouth.
My finger twitches and I go to join both of you in hell.
Perhaps more of you awaits me there.
Forever.
Goodbye sestra.
The End.