Excitement by Proxy by Rival’s Rapture

Author’s Note:

This is a Prequel Story to the Tangler Series and a Semi-Sequel to both Who is This?, Status Clash, and Backseat Battle 3 .

It is imperative that you have ready Who is This? before you read this story. Important-ish you have read Status Clash, and not a big deal if you’ve read Backseat Battle 3 or not.

“Claire, honey… you have clients and appearances. You can’t just take a week off from the firm without even a day’s notice…” With eyes closed, and the side of her right palm pressed to her forehead, Brandy sat irritated. The IP-phone-delivered pleas of her suddenly absent, and uncharacteristically tight-lipped staff counsel making the well-dressed brunette wish she was closer to her own next vacation. 

“Fine. You want the time off, you have to tell me why you need it. And no bullshit. Give it to me straight. I’ve known you too long. You sound like a wreck. Did you break up with that… asshole you were dating? What was his name? Daren? Drew? David?” 

Despite her buzzing sense of frustration, Brandy still cared for Claire who was, for all intents and purposes, her closest friend. Still, as a partner in the firm, and the missing litigator’s boss, she had to press to find out why she suddenly needed time to ‘heal.’

Of course, the shrewd brunette could have left it to HR and not pry, but that wasn’t the firm’s culture, as Brandy saw it. She was the boss. Claire worked for her. Thus any sudden requests for time off had to be accompanied by a complete spilling of the beans. 

“Mmm hmmm, I remember,” Brandy answered softly, as the soft yellow and orange light of the setting sun poured through the floor to ceiling windows that surrounded the desk she sat at.

“Oh…” She then responded with a sudden surprise.

“Oooh…” She said again, her voice bouncing, while dropping into a lower octave, as she tried to process what she was hearing.

“YOU. DID. WHAT?!” Softness abandoned, the leggy attorney asked in an echoing shout of utter shock. 

“Claire. Claire. Claire… What were you thinking? She could sue you… And–and, what guy is even worth that? Certainly not a cheating scumbag like Darren– Sorry, DAVID! You’ve just set our entire gender back a hundred years…” Dramatically shaking her head, Brandy tried and failed to fathom how her most astute and beautiful weapon of mass litigation was lured into fighting another woman for not just a man, but a cheater. Not with threats of litigation and protective orders, but with what sounded, at least from what little she’d heard, like a… catfight. 

“Bruises…? Scratches…? Mmm hmmm… Yeah… WHAT DID YOU THINK WAS GOING TO HAPPEN?!” As Brandy raged, a knock came at her office door. 

“Come in!” Came the distracted partner’s answer to sudden percussion of rapping knuckles. 

“Claire, honey, I have to go. But if you want the time off, you need to give me details. Every. Last. Bit. So at least, I can entertain myself by reading how stupid you are. Something to keep a smile on my face while I try to tell your coworkers and clients why I suddenly gave our best attorney a month off in the middle of three of her trials at 5:47 PM on a Monday.”

Yes, Brandy pressed Claire because she needed a reason to grant the request. 

Yes, knowing what happened would help her muster the passion necessary to sell the decision to the rest of the firm. But most keenly, she wanted to know every step and word that took Claire from a mild-mannered legal maven, to a character in some sexless softcore porn movie. “Ok, good… Start writing… Bye.” 

“Ms. Phillips…?” Asked a voice that was infinitely familiar to Brandy. 

“Yes, Alexis. Come in. I need you.” Answered Brandy, as in a tight black skirt and white blouse, she remained in her chair, trying to digest what she had just been told. Her long, well-lotioned legs crossing, as she looked up to watch her young assistant enter and then advance. 

She, unlike Brandy, had long blonde locks, but in every other respect, matched her employer inch for inch and curve for curve. In addition to the mirrored bodies of the two women, they shared something more. Something deeper. Something that defined their place in each other’s lives, and dictated the ways they lived the same.

A long-burning and poorly hidden desire for one another. 

One they had never acted upon. 

Never spoke of. 

And yet, it was there, and it was impossible for either to ignore it. The candles they held for each other burning day in and day out, from the very first moment they met on. 

Why hadn’t one of them broken, as they gazed secretly at each other? Why had their conversations, which dripped with sexual tension, not delved into the depths they each wished to fall into?

Their reasons differed. 

For Brandy, it was the feeling of power she got, knowing that the little blonde kitten wanted her. Not just her body. Not just her mind. But something more. Something Brandy alone could give, and better yet, something she alone could deny.  It was Brandy’s drug – her addiction. The one that kept her from crawling back into the bottle or picking up the habit of so many in the profession: cocaine. 

True though that was, Alexis, as Brandy saw it, was hers. Entirely. Completely. Even if they had never even kissed, and wouldn’t kiss until… 

The right…

Time…

Came…

For Alexis, it was a desire and desperation to take all of that control for herself. Yes, she was Brandy’s assistant. Yes, practically, she was her servant. But in this one venture – this singular aspect of their relationship – the young assistant felt like the chance was hers to place herself on top. To switch the dynamics of power, so that when it came to moments of intimacy between them, it was she who dictated terms.  

After all, Brandy wanted her. Coveted her. It was obvious even to the oblivious. Clear even to the clueless. 

And that fact, made Alexis’ station tolerable. She was an assistant with no hope of promotion. A secretary with no chance of climbing the ladder. After all, she didn’t have a law degree or a way to get one. She was in the same role she would be until she retired or changed careers. 

And though the young, perky blonde was not only patient and stubbornly so, she spent every moment of every day trying to push Brandy’s buttons and pull at her strings. Wanting more than anything in life to tempt and tantalize her dark-haired employer to the point of giving in. And what did giving in mean to Alexis? 

It was simple.

Brandy, before she got to taste. Before she got to feel. Before she got to have. Needed to admit how hotly her torch burned and how intensely she wanted Alexis as her own.

All of that would happen, Alexis was sure.

One day. 

When the right window of opportunity or moment of weakness presented itself.

And so, each with their goals, they played that game of cat and mouse. Each believing they were the cat, and the other, the mouse. They the predator and the other the prey.

Chasing her own version of eventuality, Alexis strutted. Her thighs winding their way up and under her short black skirt. Her perky, D-cup breasts displayed and arranged with an unbuttoned dip meant to drive Brandy wild. 

Wild though they did drive her, Alexis’ precious youth-buoyed tits, Brandy had become quite adept at remaining calm and composed. Letting her eyes openly and obviously wander and examine, while not giving into the temptation to take or to touch.

Not because she was married, fearing the brand of a scarlet A on her bust-heavy chest, as Brandy was and had been divorced for the past 3 years. 

Nor was it because Alexis was a forbidden fruit, either because of her gender, age, or placement below her in the pecking order. After all, Brandy was a lesbian, and more importantly, unconcerned with the current social mores of this delicate world we live in. 

In fact, quite contrary to those quickly shifting societal boundaries, Brandy saw herself as a huntress and felt entitled to hunt who and when she wanted. And Alexis, in her mind, was a wandering gazelle, just waiting for jaws to snap shut around her. 

It never being a question to Brandy of IF Alexis would be tackled, pinned down, and ravaged, but instead a question of WHEN…

HOW…

And WHERE the pelt would be hung thereafter…

Despite all that, Brandy resisted. Refrained. And, as she did, used that polished iron will of hers to toy with Alexis.   

“It looks like we need to find a new lead on the Sonnett, Phillips, and Cartwright cases.” Brandy commented, as her eyes moved from a long drinking-in of the body of her assistant to the screen of her laptop.

“Wait, what about Claire?” Alexis asked, as she came to a stop not in front of Brandy’s desk, or to its side, but behind it, and to the side of her fixated flame. 

A flame that reacted by turning her chair and looking up at her red-heeled assistant’s soft blue eyes. The pair, at that moment, hovering far too close to pass the guidelines of any sexual harassment class. 

“She’s… well.… out. For a while.” Commented the seated firm-head, her eyes and smirking lips telling the tale of something far more fun than what little had been revealed in her words.

“Out…? Like… she’s sick? Claire doesn’t get sick. I’ve never even seen her sweat, let alone cough or sneeze. What happened?” Alexis was truly confused, despite the tension that always existed between she and her boss, the very air seeming to pulsate with attraction and lust.

It wasn’t like Claire. 

Not at all.

And though Alexis wanted more details. As soon as her brunette charge’s lips parted to speak, a loud bing went off. One that each knew to be an email. Not one sent to Brandy’s work address, but her personal one – that the other partners and the networking geeks couldn’t access. 

“Mmmm, Lexi. Let’s just say, she found herself… um … tangled up in… something nasty.” Though she could have stared up at the pretty blonde all day, Brandy found the strength to pull her gaze away, so she could devote the same to her laptop and the email that had just arrived from Claire.

“Yesss. Part one of it, at least. If you’ll excuse me. I want to look this over.” It was not a respect for Claire’s privacy, but instead a sudden excitement that pushed Brandy to ask for solitude. Her eyes skimming the email from Claire, and immediately discerning how quickly and intensely the written tale moved from mundane to unexpected. 

Unexpected to intense. 

Intense to– “No…” Alexis replied in defiance. “I’m not leaving.”

Brandy, at the response, looked up to Alexis once more. The seated employer’s eyes narrowed with an unmistakable irritation, which only a second or two later gave way to something else. 

A look of excitement over Alexis’ refusal. The idea of their wills and prides clashing coming to life as it mixed with the tantalizing tale Brandy knew she was only moments away from reading. 

Back at her, Brandy found the beautiful siren eyes of her resistant assistant looking down at her. 

Her eyes filled with certainty. 

With fire. 

Reflections of passion and power that pushed Brandy to reconsider her command. “Hmmm…” She began, a wry smirk on her face, “This email is for me. But… since technically you’re mine…” 

At the words being spoken and the topic underlying them, Alexis’ eyes narrowed. The idea that she was already Brandy’s, without that being earned, angered her. Even if the thought of reading at whatever Brandy just received was enticing. 

“Your assistant.” Alexis answered, making it clear that at least for now, there were finite limits to Brandy’s control.

“Well, ASSISTANT, grab a chair and sit down. I’d like you to ASSIST me in reading this email from Claire.” Brandy replied with a smirk. Knowing the comment would needle her still standing girl. “That is unless you’d rather…” The brunette began, before being cut off. 

“Yes… Ms. Phillips…” Alexis growled, as she fought to suppress the rebellion growing within her. The blonde instead focusing on grabbing a nearby client chair, and pulling it over to just behind and beside Brandy. The two women then scooting closer and together, until each pair of their long legs were able to slip beneath Brandy’s desk. 

Then, once settled, they together began to read Claire’s email. 

“Dear Brandy, 

I’m sending you this explanation, not only because you told me I had to, but also because I feel as if my head might explode if I don’t tell somebody about what happened. 

And just because I know how our office works, I’m going to give you a short version, just in case one of our many needy clients come in, and then a longer version in case somehow you have the time.

So, as you know, I’ve been fucking this guy named David. And just like you guessed, he turned out to be married. But, I figured that out sometime after you went home from the bar on that first night. Not because he told me, but because he forgot to take off his wedding ring. Not even when we were fucking at that ratty hotel where you found Samantha and her teacher.

Yeah, I’m a bitch, but…

Anyway…

Yesterday, David’s wife Lauren finally caught onto us. Not like in bed or anything, as I had always imagined. But instead, David was an idiot and forgot his cellphone at home. And so the first text I sent to him, she saw. I only figured that out when suddenly she and I were on the phone and… Well…

We talked. It was actually kind of nice. But as nice as she was on the phone, she and I both knew we had to meet, and so we did. At her and David’s house. 

I offered to share him with her. To keep the status quo, which god knows I was used to. But she refused and after a glass of wine, we fought. 

Lauren and I. 

I’d love to tell you that we looked like martial artists or settled it “with our dukes” or something equally civilized. But instead, we just, kinda, got into a catfight. I’ve always hated that word, but it’s just what happened.

Now that’s the short version, but before I get into all the details, I want to be clear. 

If you read past this paragraph, you are not only a deviant little slut, but also SWORN to secrecy. 

Which means, counselor, that all of this information is privileged and not to be shared with whatever girl you find at the gym. Or printed out and taken home. The last thing I need is for your daughter Sammy to take it with her to Seattle and do a “Story Time” about it on Tik Tok. 

I know you adopted her. And that you love her, but that girl is a menace… 

Anyway, back on track. The details. Right.

The email began. 

As exciting and dangerous as the first email’s introduction was, as Alexis and Brandy continued to read, one email popped up after another. The story told growing wilder and more intimate with each received bing. The tale of a long, lurid affair leading Lauren and Claire – wife and mistress – into a lingerie-clad battle in the living room and master bedroom of the wife’s home.

Until lace was torn and fabric shed.

The two women struggling with each other. Straining against each other. Sweating and thrusting. Striking and grinding. Not in a flash of anger and madness, but in a long, exhausting, wounding war of wills.  

Claire’s signature and masterful writing style brought every element of she and her rival’s battle to life. Not just the setting and the words spoken, but the hairpulling and holds – the scissors and squeezes – the strikes and that final deciding smother.  

As they read, Alexis and Brandy began to forget where they were and what had brought them there.  That one was employer and the other employee. Lawyer and Assistant. Predator and Prey, regardless of who played what role in their own minds.

No, as they read, they were just women. Women with desires. Women with needs. Needs that tugged at them more and more with every word that passed from sight to mind. 

The two women, second by second, leaning closer. Nearer. Their hands first moving to their own laps, and then each other’s. The pull towards touching themselves and one another becoming so strong that, had there been more story to enjoy, they would have abandoned all their games and given in. To each other and the moment – to a kiss and then so much more.

But instead, Claire’s story came to an end with a kiss and a betrayal. A scramble and a palm pressed tightly over both lips and nose. Then with a wife, shattered and trapped, giving her husband, her home, and her life away so she could breathe once more. 

At the telling of that end, Alexis reached out with her right hand and grabbed Brandy’s shirt. It was too much. Too incredible. Too hot for the young secretary to take in without aid.

“Oh my god…” The blonde muttered once and then again. “Oh my god…”

“Mmm, aren’t you glad you’re mine?” Brandy cooed, and Alexis bristled, as together the women pushed themselves back from the desk and then to a stand. 

“Yours…” The blonde growled, as the two women adjusted their skirts and tops while turning to face each other.  Their eyes locking together as suddenly their own long-simmering friction of power broker and perfectly delectable assistant gave them an in.

An invitation to the same twisted and tantalizing fantasy they had just read.

Each of them, as they stood in silence – not distant, but perhaps a foot or two apart, feeling it. 

Finding it. Not only in their own working and lust-filled minds, but in each other’s desire and malice-filled eyes.

This was the moment each had waited for. The opening.

The chance to strike that Brandy had waited for. 

The window of opportunity Alexis had sought. 

They too were at their own precipice of destiny. The beginning of their own fait accompli.

At least that certainty is what coursed through their minds, as in a flash of unexpected action, Alexis reached out with her right hand and slapped Brandy across the face. A crashing of palm against cheek that shattered the endlessly intense gaze and moment of unrepentant sexual fervor shared by the two. 

At the sting of it, the brunette lawyer raised her left hand, and pressed it firmly to her pain-reddened cheek. The slightest drip of blood forming at the very corner of her already ruby-red lips. Her heart racing, as the realization set in that with that slap, they had truly crossed a threshold.

THE threshold. 

A thought that made the struck super lawyer smirk and then nod, as she wiped that drop of blood from her mouth. Her head turning back to Alexis, only a second before she fired back a slap of her own. One that splashed across Alexis’s cheek with a clap that echoed through Brandy’s office. 

The sunlit room around them falling silent, as the beautiful blonde let the pain of the attack sink in. 

Did she want this?

A fight? 

A catfight, of all things?

To get tangled up in something nasty, like Claire?

Yes, her wild eyes answered without speaking. “Yes!” The assistant shouted as thereafter she lunged at her flame.

Alexis and her employer then burying their hands in each other’s hair, as they pulled close and then closer – tight and then as tight as they could possibly be.

Each snarling. Sneering. And glaring, just as they imagined Claire and Lauren did on that fateful night. 

Not because each fiended for an adulterer named David, like the muses whose shadows they chased. But instead because it was the answer to the riddle each had asked in their daily flirtations and unending temptations.

The endgame of their hottest of hot cold wars. 

Click. Clack. Click. Clack. The heels of the two redhot rivals clattered against the floor of Brandy’s office as they bound themselves to one another. Each raising a leg and coiling it around the hip of their long defiant obsession.

Their long held flames catching an email-inspired wind and bursting into flames as together they began to stumble back and away from Brandy’s desk and towards the large window panes of the office. Every heavy step taken driven up from stilettos that planted firmly in the hard floor below. 

Calves flexing and thighs tensing as the two staggered, struggled, and battled each other for placement and purchase. Until in a loud, echoing sound of contact, Alexis slammed Brandy, back-first against the glass window wall of her cloud-high office. 

There the blonde pressed into her boss, a forearm pressed hard against her throat. 

“You’re mine, cunt. I’m Claire!” Through gritted teeth, Brandy hissed. Her hands moving from golden locks to Alexis’ shoulders to try and push her nubile assistant back.

“You’re Lauren! I’m Claire, bitch!” Came Alexis’ reply, as she kept her body pressed hard against Brandy’s. The two women glaring soul-deep into each other’s eyes. Their nostrils flaring and lips pulled back until teeth found themselves bared. 

“Prove it…” Demanded Brandy, as she suddenly surged forward. Trying to push herself away from the glass-kept view of the swiftly setting sun. 

“I will, but first I want THESE off!” It was a growl. A feral, primal grunt of a demand, and when it came, the beautiful, golden-haired assistant reached down with her free hand, and then with prying fingers pulled her boss’ panties down over her toned and tanned thighs. 

As their wet-centered fabric slid past knees, calves, and then to the well-waxed floor below, Brandy cursed. “Bitch!” 

Her hissed out reaction came, just as she found the angle and aim to drive forward and to the right. Rolling she and her assistant across the transparent separator between them and the city they called home. A movement that switched their places, and left Alexis pinned. 

Pinned and struggling. 

“Whore!” Alexis hissed back, as their faces remained only centimeters apart. The hot breath of each splashing against the cheeks, lips, and tongue of the other. 

“Ooooh, my prey is so brave today.” Cooed Brandy, at her pinned and resisting rival, all while the brunette reached, grabbed, and then tore down the blonde’s own deeply dampened panties.

“I’m not your FUCKING PREY! YOU’RE MINE!” Alexis corrected in a snarl,  as Brandy’s comment flooded her mind with delicious frustration and aphrodisiac anger. Emotions that drove Alexis to suddenly surge forward and push Brandy back towards her desk. 

Pens and paper – mouse and keyboard – laptop and lamp flying in random directions as the two women collapsed on top of the desk’s smooth surface. Their skirts lifted, thighs crossed, and soaking wet cunts met and pressed hard.

Both women using that contact, which otherwise might be soft, dragging, and rhythmic, as an attack. A contest of wills. A micro-war to see whose hips would give in and way first. 

The hands of the two incensed and desire-intoxicated women reaching for each other’s throats to choke. Snarling with side-crooked jaws. Glaring with the intensity of a thousand suns. 

“Cunt.” Brandy growled up from below. 

“Slut.” Alexis spit back as she leaned in and down. 

“Whore.” Came in response.

“Biiiiiiiiitch.” Followed in time. 

They spit the words at each other between grunts and moans. Not making love. Not acting out their lust sensuously or with patience, but driving their pussies together with as much pressure as they could muster in one unending thrust.  

Grunts slipping past gritted teeth, as spital form, hung, and then fell.

Muscles flexing hard, as the two desk-top rivals set themselves to not only enduring but overcoming the force and ferocity of their flame. 

The fingers of each squeezing tighter and tighter around each other’s throats. Both boss and assistant desperate to dominate and break the woman who they had wanted for so long.

Each holding on and out in each other’s choking grasp until their vision began to dim and lungs began to burn. Their pubic bones bruising and cunts spilling more and more with every passing second.

All until Brandy, unwilling to be trapped beneath her assistant a second longer, drove up and over, wanting to turn their bodies in one quick and decisive roll. But Alexis would not allow it.

In that moment, she had what she had always wanted. Possessed what she had for so long chased. Control over Brandy. Her powerful, dominant, domineering boss was beneath her. Not by accident, but because Alexis put her there by force. 

And so to keep her there by the same, as Brandy drove upward, Alexis threw her body down. The still-covered breasts of the two women colliding violently, before in a resulting explosion of frustration and dominance denied, the two began to fight. 

Slapping and scratching.

Bucking and slamming.

Struggling and straining against each other in a desperate effort to have what they wanted, and to keep the other from gaining the same. 

The maelstrom they let loose moving them closer and closer to the edge of the desk upon which they writhed. Until in a clamor, the two battle-bound beauties toppled off the table and to the hard floor in front of Brandy’s desk. The 6-inch heels both women wore coming off mid-drop before with a clatter and skip, they disappeared into the unnoticed background of the moment.

Without those encumbrances, and after a harsh thudding splat of flesh and fabric, the two warring women found themselves separated, not by choice, but by force and a fiercely unforgiving floor. The impact they suffered breaking them apart and sending them into rolls onto their sides, a few feet apart.

Groaning as their once pushing and pulling, striking and strangling hands moved about their bodies to massage places of ache and ailment.

And for those fleeting seconds, there was peace. A pernicious and poisonous peace that could have overwhelmed and overcame their fire for one another.

But then it came, cutting through the already sex-scented air of the room. One of the two lust-drunk combatants bringing their struggle back to the fore. 

“If it’s the last thing I do, I’M GOING TO MAKE YOU ADMIT YOU WANT ME, BRANDY!” Alexis promised in a hard, certain growl, before letting her tone dip into a smooth, catty aside. “Or should I call you Lauren?”

“Want you? WANT you? You’re already FUCKING MINE! JUST LIKE DAVID WAS CLAIRE’S!!!” The defiant and endlessly confident lawyer of LA roared back, as she and her assistant spun from their backs to their knees, and then lunged at each other once more. The brunette using the name of the man she found detestable, not because he was some prize to have been won, but because she knew that analogy would drive Alexis mad with rage.

“FUCKING BITCH!” The blonde cried out.

“PRECIOUS LITTLE SLUT!!” Brandy hissed back, as the bodies and prides of the two women crashed together in a cataclysm of fired strikes, clumsy tackles, and uncinched traps began and continued.

First on their knees, then on their backs, and then in a wild up and over roll. Not in one continuous direction, but there and back again. Neither able to find the momentum or angle to mirror the perfect turns of the women they had seen in catfights on TV.

But this wasn’t one of those. This was something else. Something deeper. Something worse. They were tangled up in something nasty. Just like Lauren and just like Claire. 

And just like their reality differed in that way from the Hollywood cliche, it differed in others. There was pain. Piercing and prurient. Both inflicted and endured as nails caught and drug. 

Sudden blushes and gusts of cool air kissing their skin as buttons snapped off, blouses pulled loose, and then in the wake of their rival’s fury came off in hard, recurring yanks. 

The same feeling of blood-flushed skin meeting the crisp, A/C-cooled air of the office felt as bras were caught and captured – drug down and then torn either off completely or down past tummy, hips, and thighs. All before those wired-discomforts were lost entirely in the two women’s wild and violent struggle. 

It was at that moment, when Brandy and her assistant’s upper bodies were fully bared, that the warring women came to a sudden jerking stop. Alexis trapped beneath her employer, whose nails found themselves dug deep into the blonde’s shoulders. All as the latter’s curled deep and bound tightly in the former’s luscious brown hair.

Legs tangled and coiled. 

Bare breasts sealed together and at their tipped centers stabbing, separated only by a thin layer of effort-earned perspiration. 

“You’re MINE! JUST ADMIT IT!” Brandy snarled through gritted teeth and protruding jaw. Her hips thrusting down and against Alexis’ with a demanding and almost masculine aggression. The skirts of the two women still on, but bunched high and tightly around their waists, A placement, along with their previously stolen away panties, that left the two free to meet pussy to pussy. 

Brandy’s single, forceful thrust causing a wet splash to spring from their reddened and swollen cunts and coat their soft inner thighs. 

“Fuck you… Claire and Lauren fought for what they wanted… AND SO WILL WE!” Alexis growled back, as she glared up at Brandy. Her left hand releasing dark locks, so that it could, instead, reach up and at the palm, cup the bottom of the super lawyer’s chin. Nearby nails then coiling up, like the legs of an octopus, so they could dig into the cheeks of the same. 

Not hard enough to scratch, but instead, just enough to remind Brandy how serious the moment was. How, just as Lauren and Claire fought deep into the night, they too were not through. And finally that she was unbowed.

Unbroken.

And at odds with Brandy’s claim of ownership in the most primal of ways. 

With that reminder given, Alexis too began to thrust. Not softly. Not sensually. But angrily and with an unmistakable violence. “You want me to be yours? Earn it. FIGHT ME!” The words were daggers. Knives with sharpened edges and needle-tip points.

“Right now… Right here… Woman to woman… Pussy to pussy…” The blonde challenged in anger and dared in desire, all as she delivered another hard pelvic stab.

“I’ll fight you… I’ll fuck you… And make you see why I’M THE ONE IN CONTROL BETWEEN US – OVER US! ALWAYS!” Growled Brandy, with a face contorted in a rictus of utter defiance and desire. Her own hard thrusts fired off again and again. Her left hand reaching down and grabbing Alexis’ cheeks with tightly gripping fingers. 

The two women determined to prove something with every fleshy wet collision. Collisions that were wild. That were angry. That were malevolent. The humanity of the two high-rise professionals seeming to slip away as like two warring cavewomen they fought in the most primal way possible.

Each clinging with their claws, while their ever-wet cunts crashed together in brutal, bruising, bashes. Every such strike ringing out with a fleshy and audibly wet thud before rebounding back. 

In that back and forth battle of clashing clits there was pain… Bruising and echoing pain. But somewhere buried in each consecutive clash of clits and pounding of pubic bones, there was pleasure. A pleasure that built. A pleasure that welled soul-deep within them.

“Cum for me, bitch.” Alexis demanded, as with half-lidded eyes she glared up at her employer.

“Never, cunt. NEVER! I’M CLAIRE!” Guttural and gruff. Brandy growled, assuming that she too would be the victor. The alpha. The Queen of the office in which she and her assistant fought cunt to cunt, with squeezing hands gripping at each other’s beautiful faces. 

“No, you’re NOT! I’m CLAIRE!” It was then, as Alexis shouted from beneath. Her bare back pressed to the cool office floor. And as back and forth they laid claim to Claire’s mantle, that Brandy and Alexis finally fell into a metronome-smooth rhythm. Their hard blows slowing and softening, as lower lips split, clits met and settled, and then with the sound of a delicate wet squelch, their kittens sealed together.

“You’re the blonde! SO PLAY YOUR ROLE!” Ordered Brandy, calling back to the golden hue of Lauren’s hair. A comment she made, as together the two rivals drug their cunts together. Never letting them separate. Never letting their succulent state of suction ebb. 

“You had the power and NOW you’re going to lose it! SO PLAY YOUR ROLE!!” Alexis argued back, linking Brandy’s formerly secure position to that of Lauren’s fall from place and grace. 

“The power’s STILL mine… You’re still MINE…” Swore the brunette, as her eyelids began to drift closed from the pleasure that was swiftly overwhelming her.

“No… No…” The blonde denied, as she too fought to keep her eyes open and focused. Sweat dripping from their beautiful bodies. All while their face-gripping hands began to relent and then travel down to each other’s calling breasts. Not to gouge or claw, but to massage and knead. 

“Yes… you’re gonna… cum… for me, and then you–you’re mine…. Then I … win…” Brandy’s always controlled and eloquent speech began to wilt and weaken. Her legendary focus giving way to the feeling of having what – of having WHO she had wanted for days, weeks, and months on end. 

“But instead… of… moving out…” Brandy added, though her tone sounded more and more frail and affected with every word. “You’re moving in…”

“Bitch… Bitch… Bitch…” Alexis muttered, as she shook her head in defiance. Unable to think. Unable to respond to the terms the woman above gave, whether she would have accepted them or not. 

The blonde was too lost in the pleasure her boss inflicted upon her. In one matched thrust after another. Clits rocking and throbbing together inside the wet, warm, tensing confines of their connected slits.

The fire in her assistant’s eyes dimming, before the same was hidden away behind closed lids. Soon she would be unable to fight. Soon she would be driven to orgasm beneath the woman with whom she writhed. 

It was with Alexis in that desire-weakened state, that Brandy decided to add one last stab at her assistant’s pride. An insult each had hurled before on that day, but because of the moment in which Brandy spoke it, the name struck a far deeper and more wounding cord. The blonde as for the first time in their relationship showing weakness — showing signs of surrender. And yet, despite the import of that offering, willing or no, Brandy chose to take and not give — offend and not accept.

“Lauren…” The brunette let the word slip from her lips, like the final command to an executioner before the swing. She picturing the labeling to be a fitting reminder to her upstart assistant of which of them was truly in control. Which of them was the winner and which the loser. Which Claire and which her defeated and humiliated rival. 

But in a split-second after the name fell from Brandy’s lips, Alexis woke from her carnal coma and erupted with a cataclysmic rage. 

The infuriated blonde then driving up and into Brandy, with eyes wide like a moonwell and mouth torn open in a primal scream. The piercing cry of the infuriated Alexis lingering in the air and echoing off the walls, as the two women once more burst into tumult and tempest. 

Turning over and over, finally like those objectifying catfights between two buxom women they had seen on TV, all while in Brandy’s office their thirsty cunts continued to meet. Neither woman willing to let go of the pleasure they felt and inflicted, even though they were once more in the throes of war. 

Not as they rolled together across the office, or as they hissed curses and threats at each other.

Both retelling and reliving the tale of the two women who inspired their battle in one incredible journey, both in word and revolution.

In dares and curses.

Accusations and comparisons.

Until finally, when the momentum of the fury they had talked each other into became so great, that despite their grips – their nails – and their sealed together cunts, they were thrown apart. 

Defiant as they still were with each other, that distance – those few seconds of not being locked together, body to body and pussy to pussy, became their true enemy. The true fate they could not abide. 

And so, though they had only had a few breaths of respite, they both fought to their feet. Brandy turning back to face the fiery blonde hellcat, just in time to find the same tackling her. Not to the floor once more, but instead and again, onto the office’s desk. The thighs of the two women suffering the consequences of excitement by proxy crossing, as once more, they settled in. 

The warm, wet feeling of the other’s kitten against theirs feeling like home, even with anger and frustration overwhelming them both. 

“I’ll make you…” Alexis growled, almost breathless – almost lost in the ravages of their requited rivalry. But she still had her memory of what Brandy had said. 

What Brandy had done, when a hint of weakness had been shown.

And so the blonde spit, from her raised, calf-built seat, not words, but saliva. Not just in Brandy’s face, but into her mouth, which hung open ready to offer a catty retort. 

“I’ll make you cum for me. I’ll make you SCREAM for me.” Alexis promised, as Brandy coughed and sputtered. The collected liquids from her rival’s mouth slowly dripping down the back of her throat, as she tried to recover. 

“No…” Brandy began before a cough tore through her sentiment. “No… you won’t!” As the words sprang from Brandy’s lips, her hands shot up and at Alexis. Wanting to grab her. To scratch her. To push her off and away. But the blonde, there in her high, cunt-to-cunt straddle, caught the wrists of her still obstinate boss.

The two women, in another way amongst so many, struggling. Brandy to pull her arms free from Alexis’ grip, and Alexis to keep the same. Their arms jerking forward and toward. A pressure which allowed Alexis to muster a hard downward pressure, which Alexis used to fuck Brandy harder. Deeper. And so intensely, that the desk beneath them rattled and shook. Creaking and squeaking – threatening to give in – in a way it hadn’t when the two had struggled atop it before.

“You’re Lauren, bitch…” Alexis grunted, as she glared down with a malicious grin at her slowly succumbing employer. “Just like her, you’re losing. You’re trapped beneath me, and… just like her… you’re getting FUCKED! YOU’RE JUST LIKE LAUREN!!!” 

Brandy wanted to reply. Badly. Desperately. To fire off some pithy, dismissive dare. But instead, she could only mutter, as her eyelids began to flutter and her eyes to roll back in her head. 

Pleasure and desire beginning to overtake her. Robbing her of focus, as more and more her body begged her to just take. To just enjoy. To just lay there and give in. “Fuck–Bitch–No–I’ll…” 

It was everything. This contest. Their duel of wills. One they had together and separately nurtured for so long that they barely remember a time before it began. But even with that singular importance, Brandy felt her ability to reject and resist shattering. One defense after another. 

The pleasure of their met and clashing clits. The power of Alexis’ thrusts. The fire in her eyes. The control that the young assistant so clearly had at that moment. 

It was all too much. 

Too incredible. 

Too perfect and pristine, not despite the bruises, scratches, and discarded clothing, but instead because of the same

The taboo excitement of Claire’s fight playing on loop in Brandy’s mind. 

The story told: an aphrodisiac.

 The ideas presented:  a drug. 

And the window both offered: the exact thing Alexis needed to find what she had been waiting for. 

The one perfect moment, where she was not under or beneath – less than or looked down upon. No, as the blonde had Brandy mounted. 

A woman who put men and enemies in their places. 

A woman whose heel-strikes made opposing counsels cower. 

She was mighty. She was majestic. She was a true goddess, made from fire, flesh, and divinity on earth.

But there, on her own desk, Alexis drove her hard towards orgasm. Despite the pleasure she felt. Despite how badly she might want to lean down and taste her boss’ lips with her own. There would be time for that. There would be more fire and fucking after this day, the blonde was sure of it.  

But first came the settling. The reckoning. The explosion of pent up lust dragging Brandy down from her perch and into the path of a technicolor shatterstar of a pleasure like she had never known before.

The tinder for that oncoming paradigm-shifting release laid painstakingly by both women, then set ablaze by a story of wife and mistress – blonde and brunette – homemaker and homewrecker fighting like cats. 

Like women. 

And at that moment, like Brandy and Alexis. The former who moaned weakly. Clearly ruined. Clearly broken. Clearly seconds away from the edge.

“Say it… SAY IT, LAUREN!” Above, Alexis cried, throwing back that same salvo Brandy had thrown at her when the end seemed near. Calling her the name of the defeated and devastated wife of the story they together read.  

“Submit! Just like her… Just like that worthless BITCH!” Oooh, it felt good to say those words. To have that power – that control. 

And just as that moment of indescribable pride and satisfaction washed over Alexis, a lightning strike came down from the heavens. A bolt thrown from Zeus himself, aimed at the brunette’s finally branded soul as an orgasm tore through her. 

It was in the throes of those waves and the orgasm that had brought them, that Brandy’s lips opened to cry out. Her voice trembling and body quaking. “I…” 

“I– I– I GIVE! FUCK! BITCH! GOD!!! UUNNNNGGGHHHH” Yes, the friction. Yes, the grinding. Yes, the contact. Yes, the blissful and blistering image of Claire and Lauren at war. All of it led to this moment. 

But those words. 

Those sexy fucking words drove Alexis over her own cliff and into another flash of lust-lathered obliteration. One that hit hard and fast. Stealing her breath. Her mind. Her focus. And all of the power she had just taken for herself. 

The weight of it seeming to fall from the bright lights of the office and onto her back, as she collapsed down and on top of her satisfied and conquered boss. A boss whose lips Alexis sought and then found as she rode out her own wonderful release. 

The tongues of the two exhausted and satisfied women meeting through parted lips, in a blistering centrifuge of lust, delight, and finally released tension. 

They had done it.

They had crossed the line. Satisfied their desires. Broken the stalemate they had existed in for ever so long. 

And in the aftermath of it all, they rested. Alexis laying atop Brandy. Their sweat-covered bodies layered atop one another, as small beads of the sheen dripped down their sides, pooling beneath the desk below. 

Still kissing. Slowly. Delicately. And with nothing held back for the sake of pride or power. At that moment, they were lovers. Two halves of a delicious affair. And unlike Lauren, who was forced to pack and then leave the life she had built in the wake of her defeat, neither Alexis nor Brandy were going anywhere. 

Not now. And not ever— At the very moment the two felt as if they would never pull apart again, the door to Brandy’s office swung open, and as it did a voice rang out. 

“Brandy, babe, I have an idea and I need you.” The voice came from a well-dressed and self-assured looking blonde with short-hair and a thick, toned physique. Her eyes, which at first examined the office, landing on Brandy and her assistant too late. The door closing behind her, leaving her frozen in a sudden shock. 

“Oh…” The woman muttered, as slowly she began to back up towards the same door she had just came through. 

“Genevieve, wait.” Brandy called from beneath her glassy-eyed conqueror. The same conqueror who quickly rolled off and to the side of her prey. 

“You’ve caught us mid… um… tangle… One sec.” The term tangle was the first Brandy could come up with, as she pushed herself up, back, and then off her desk. Alexis doing the same, when Brandy had taken a step back to give her room.

“Tangle? Ooooh, I like that.” Genevieve muttered to herself, as she raised her right hand to her chin. Clearly more excited by the word used, than she was troubled by what she had walked in on. 

“Wait, you tangle?” The short-haired business woman then asked, with an excited, and yet half-disbelieving expression of doubt. 

“It’s a long nasty story.” Brandy replied as she used the palms of her hands to flatten out her kicked up skirt, her glorious breasts still hanging and displayed like heads on a wall. Her attention then turning to gathering her and Alexis’ discarded clothes. 

“Now, what’s this idea of yours?” The dark-haired attorney asked, with her professional and seriousness tone once more taking hold. Her right hand extending to take her blouse from Alexis, who had grabbed it from across the room.

“Ha…” Genevieve laughed, with a smirk. “Tangling… Tangles… Tangler… Tangler? TANGLER!” She spoke in a bouncing repetition. Working the idea – the name of her new venture out in her head. 

“Mmm hmmm… And what’s that? What’s Tangler?” Brandy had just been caught a red hot mess under her assistant, on top of her desk, high above the streets of Los Angeles. And yet she seemed not only unconcerned, but almost buoyed by the concept. 

The unaffected partner then using her right hand to grab Alexis, newly redressed, and then with her there, to slap her round, essence-splattered ass. 

“Get us some coffee, would you?” The words weren’t meant to be cruel or dismissive, but made clear what Alexis still was, passions aside. 

The reminder of place made Alexis turn her head toward Brandy and glare. The thought of tackling her boss once more playing through her mind. Had she not learned her lesson? Had she so quickly forgotten which of them was Lauren and which Claire? Alexis asked herself until Brandy’s eyes lifted to her own. Their gazes fusing, allowing Brandy to assure without words.

She had learned.

She did remember.

Alexis might not have accepted such a wordless relenting, had it not come in a look and expression the blonde assistant had never seen before. Not from Brandy at least. And so instead of once more engaging her boss in a rolling struggle, this time in front of one of the firm’s biggest clients, Alexis instead placed her hands on Brandy’s shoulder, leaned in, and then whispered threateningly. “You’re going to pay for that…” 

At the words, a smile crept across Brandy’s face, even as she was suddenly pulled into Alexis’ body and then kissed hard and wet. Deeply and passionately.

The kiss lasted only a few seconds, but still, it gave the victorious assistant what she needed. A reminder of her power and newly earned control.

And so, with her point made, Alexis pulled back, stepping back from her suddenly breathless boss, her eyes closed and lips hungry. Lips that then muttered. “Go.” The brunette said reluctantly, knowing she had to find out what Genevieve needed and why. “You can punish me later.” Brandy then added.

“Harshly…” Alexis corrected with a smile, a tilted head, and pressed forehead.

“All. Night. Long… And then, I can help you pack.” Responded the conquered, and yet quickly recovering mistress of the law. “Now… Coffee? Please?”

Please? PLEASE?! Brandy said please?! GAH! Alexis cheered internally as a wide and self-satisfied smile sprung to her lips. But then…. Packing?! But she had won?! WHAT?! The blonde asked herself, her mind working not only overtime, but triple time. Questions popping up one after another, at exactly the moment she had to leave her new lover’s office. FUCK! Alexis mouthed as she turned around and began to step forward. Her steps wobbling and panties soaked.

“Now, Gen. This sexy little blonde has a collar to put on me and new furniture to pick out. So! Let’s make this quick, huh?” As she spoke, Brandy watched Alexis’ tantalizing walk once more.

The victorious assistant’s sapphire eyes shooting daggers towards the short haired office invader as she pondered her brunette boss’ words and what laid in store for the two of them.

“Ok, right… So! It’s this idea I’ve had…” The toned client began, taking almost no notice of all that had just transpired. Not because she was too self-absorbed, but instead because she had seen and done it all before.

“And it seems like it’s one you’ll understand.”  Genevieve continued, with a glimmer in her eyes. “I want to help other women find… tangles. Like what you and…” The name of Brandy’s assistant would have been forgotten, had the door to the office not shut loudly just as Gen was supposed to use it. “just had… Like the one I had when…” And with that, the well-funded and thoroughly tangle-addicted client began to lay out the future of women like her. Of women like Brandy. Like Alexis. Like Lauren. Like Claire…

Women who had found themselves lost, by chance or consequence, in the fire and fury – the passion and power – the pain and pleasure of one woman versus another. In encounters that changed their lives. Not only because of the outcome and the aftermath, but because thereafter, nothing else could compare to the high they rose to that day.

Highs they would forever chase and covet. A red dragon sated not by a drug, but by pitting themselves against others. 

Others they could find because of the idea discussed that day. 

An app to guide them. Find them. And in those intimate places they could find: bind them. 

The End

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