It was a little game they liked to play.

It started one night while watching television together.  A simple comparison to an actress in a sitcom.

“Do you think she has better breasts than me?”  Vicki just said out loud what she was thinking.  She couldn’t help but compare herself.  It was really just an idle comment.  The blonde on the screen was wearing a skin-tight white t-shirt and her nipples were obvious.  Vicki didn’t really expect Tom to answer, or to say anything other than maybe to give her a meaningless compliment.

He got an erection.  She noticed.  She got up and left the room.

In a minute, she was back.  She had changed to a white t-shirt.  She stood next to the tv, and this time her voice was different.

“Whose tits are better?” she demanded, and the words made her nipples stiffen under her shirt.

He shifted.  The bulge in his shorts was even bigger now.

“Mine are,” she answered for him.  “My tits are bigger.  They’re firmer.  My nipples are hard as pebbles in your mouth.”

His eyes shifted back to the actress.  “Fuck her,” Vicki said sharply.  Was that an insult to the actress or an invitation to a different comparison?  Vicki’s tone surprised Tom.  She even surprised herself.  She was getting wetter by the second.  She peeled off her shirt.  Her nipples were indeed like small stones; they jutted out a full inch.  The sitcom had ten minutes to play.  Vicki came twice before it ended.

A week later, they went to a July 4th beach party.  The hostess wore a blue bikini.

“Do you think her ass is as good as mine?”  Vicki’s lips were an inch from Tom’s ear.  “Do you want to dig your fingers into it?  While she rides your cock?”

They made an excuse and left early.  She sucked his cock the entire drive home.  They barely made it inside.  He dug his fingers into her asscheeks, spreading her wide as she fucked him furiously from on top.

After that, Vicki endlessly found women for comparisons, constant invitations to Tom to imagine choosing between her and whatever woman she presented to him.  The fantasy competitions excited them both.  Their sex was intense.

Now when Tom had to travel for business, Vicki went with him.  She had a plan for new women for their game.  TV starlets weren’t real enough.  Their friends and co-workers weren’t hot enough.  When Tom got back to their hotel room that night, late after long meetings, Vicki wasn’t there.

“Meet me,” she texted him around nine.  The address she sent was a strip club.

They sat together at a table, Vicki’s hand firmly on Tom’s cock beneath it.  Dancers came and went on the stage.  Vicki studied them, commented on them.  Girls came by the table, trailing fingers over Tom’s head or shoulder, but they moved on at the sight of Vicki’s face.  She squeezed him as she measured each one, telling him each time how she was better.  They spent an erotic hour, with Vicki winning comparison after comparison. 

Then Vicki felt Tom tense.

A new dancer had come on stage.  She had been introduced as Desiree.  Tom stiffened, including his cock.  Vicki felt him thicken under her fingers.  Her eyes narrowed on Desiree.

She had dark hair.  Long, strong legs.  Her face was lovely, bright blue eyes and sharp cheekbones.  Her body – Vicki paused on drawing her usual comparison – this woman was all erotic curves.  Vicki frowned and turned her mouth to Tom’s ear.

“Do you think her pussy is tighter than mine?” she breathed.

Tom’s face was unreadable.

“I know her,” he said.  “Her name is Madeline – Maddy.  We dated.  In college.”

Vicki felt a surge of irrational jealousy.  So there was an answer to the question, she thought.  Now she didn’t want to hear it.

Maddy’s set ended.  She had spotted Tom from the stage, so she came straight to their table.  Her breasts were still bare.  Her nipples were swollen hard.

“Tom!” she squealed.  He stood and hugged her.  Vicki silently seethed.

Maddy joined them at their table, slipping her slinky cocktail dress back on.  Her breasts swayed under it.  Vicki knew Tom watched them.

“How are you?”  Maddy said.  Her smile was big and sexy.

“Engaged,” Vicki said.  She wasn’t smiling.

Tom made the introductions.  Vicki squeezed Maddy’s hand, hard.  Bitch, Maddy thought, with instant dislike.  Vicki wasn’t the only woman who made comparisons.

Tom attempted small talk for a few minutes.  Maddy laughed and touched his arm.  But at the same time the tension at the table grew.  Vicki didn’t say much but she found small ways to needle Maddy.  She also made it obvious that she had her hand on his cock, practically giving him a handjob.  Her overt ownership of Tom set a spark to Maddy’s competitive fire.  She put her hand on Tom’s leg, hard enough that Vicki knew it.

“I have to look like I’m working,” Maddy said, suddenly, although it wasn’t true.  “How about a table dance, Vicki?”  She didn’t wait for an answer as she came around the table.  She lowered her neckline as she straddled the redhead’s lap, and pressed her bare breasts into Vicki’s chest.  Hard.  She swept her hair forward over her face and leaned in, to the side of Vicki’s head opposite Tom.

“You should thank me,” she whispered.  “He’ll fuck you like crazy tonight.  But he’ll be thinking of me, of course.”

Vicki suddenly arched her back, pushing back against Maddy’s chest.  She dug her nails into the brunette’s waist.  Maddy was surprised.  The redhead was more cat than she expected.  Both women were breathing hard.

“Let’s go, Tom,” said Vicki.  She stood.

“See you, Tom,” said Maddy.  Was that a promise?

Once in their hotel room, he did fuck her like crazy.  It made Vicki furious, even as she climaxed.  She heard Maddy’s words in her mind, over and over.  She saw Maddy’s dark brown nipples; she pictured Tom fucking the bitch, even harder than he had fucked her.  Afterwards, she lay with her head on his stomach, idly playing with his exhausted cock.  She had one question she had never asked him before.  Now she burned to ask it.

“Who would win a catfight?”

He hardened under her fingers.  That was really all the answer Vicki needed.

Tom couldn’t help it.

Maddy.  He tried not to think about her.  But every memory now pushed to the front of his brain.  Her laugh.  Her body, stretched out on his bed, a sheet just draped over her bare hip.  She’d been 22 when he’d seen her last; at 27 she was more sexy.  Watching her dance in the club – graceful, erotic, hard-bodied but curvy as ever.  When she’d come to the table he’d wanted to bury his face in her breasts.

Who would win a catfight?  That brought back the memory of Maddy in a nightclub parking lot, locked in a drunken brawl with a blonde girl.  He had never been as aroused as he was when he fucked Maddy after she had won that fight.  Vicky, and her compulsion to seek comparison – now he couldn’t stop thinking of them ripping at each other.  By comparison, they were so even.  Height, weight, beauty, curves.  He loved Vicki’s auburn hair.  He loved her body.  He even loved her fierce edge; it excited him that she thought she was better than any other woman.  Who would win . . . .?

Maddy couldn’t help it.

Tom.  She hadn’t thought about him for a few years, but seeing him tonight had brought back a rush of emotion.  Maybe they should have stayed together.  Maybe there was still a spark there now, even.  That bitch he was with – that added to it; Tom, with her?  Maddy thought about how Vicki had shoved her chest into hers.  Like that bitch in a nightclub back in school.  She’d gone after Maddy’s tits too, and she’d paid for it.  Mmmmmmmm – the way Tom had fucked her that night . . . she stretched in her bed and touched herself.  Her clit was wet and throbbing. Over memories of Tom’s cock?  Over the thought of Vicki’s reaction to her?  It was both, of course.

She’d stuck with stripping because of the feeling of power it gave her.  The power over the men, sure; but also the power she felt that they came to see her, to get something from her that the woman in their life couldn’t give them.  She felt that power now, as she thought of the look on Tom’s face as he watched her dance – and the look on his bitch fiance’s face too.  She pictured stripping the redhead’s big tits; imagined clawing red stripes in them.  Her spine arched as she came.

Vicki couldn’t help it.

The idea of fighting that bitch had taken hold in her mind.  She couldn’t go to sleep.  It was the ultimate comparison, wasn’t it?  Not just who was prettier, or whose ass was firmer.  Who could make who quit.  Who could make who beg.  Who could beat her rival until she couldn’t get up.  This Maddy – with her hard dancer’s body and big tits, she was a rival, wasn’t she?  Why hadn’t Tom ever mentioned her?  Because she was special?  Fuck her, she’s not special!

The way Tom had gotten hard when she’d said the word catfight.  He wanted it to happen.  He wanted to find out who would win.  She pictured Maddy on her knees, crying.  She pictured twisting her dark nipples as she screamed.  She imagined what sex after victory would be like.  Tom had another day of meetings tomorrow.  Vicki made her plans.

Vicki went to the club the next day, in the early afternoon when it opened.  Maddy wasn’t there – she was one of the elite dancers, not the beginners or over-the-hills who had to take the afternoon hours.  Vicki was there to see the club manager.
At first, he said No.  No way.

Vicki was persuasive.  She wanted this.  At midnight.  The club would be full, packed with men who were drunk but not yet too drunk.  The main stage, a long platform raised about four feet above the club floor, the gleaming brass pole in its center.

“We’ll get shut down,” he said.

Vicki shook her head.  She unbuttoned her blouse.  “You won’t,” she said.  “Every man there will love it.  They’ll tell their friends.”  She lifted her breasts out of her bra.  Her nipples were stiff.  “Maddy and me.  Who do you think would win?”  She came around the desk to where he sat.  Very persuasive.

He called Maddy at home, put her on speaker.  Vicki made her challenge, a taunt full of slut and coward and cunt.  Maddy accepted, an agreement laced with bitch and whore and fuck.

Tom got a text from Vicki.  Be at the club from last night at 11:45.  That was it.  He knew what it meant.  When he arrived, the staff at the door were waiting for him.  A bouncer led him through the crowd to a reserved table, the best seat in the house for the main stage.  People looked at him with curiosity – what kind of VIP was he?  A drink was there in moments.  The waitress loosened his tie for him.

The music stopped.  The stage was empty.  The DJ in his invisible booth spoke.

“Everyone welcome to the main stage – Vicki!”  Vicki appeared from the back of the club.  She was dressed in only forest green lace lingerie and matching heels.  Her hair was down and a little wild.  Her walk to the stage stairs was pure runway strut, her breasts threatening to bounce out of the demi-cups of her bra.  The crowd applauded.

“And . . . Maddy!”  No stage name for this.  She came from the loft above, where the dancers descended stairs to the stage.  Tom stifled a groan; he was achingly hard already.  Maddy was in white lace and heels, her panties barely a strip of lace, her bra cradling her gorgeous breasts.  More applause – the crowd expected some kind of joint dance, a little light lesbianism between two beauties.

“They asked for this,” the DJ said.  “You are in for a treat.  This is a center stage catfight – a grudge match!  Vicki and Maddy, one woman left standing!”

There was a moment of uncertain disbelief, but the way the two women glared at each other sank in as fast as the DJ’s words.  The audience roared.

Vicki raised her hand.  The crowd subsided.  She unclasped her bra, and tossed it onto Tom’s table.
“Fight me with your tits out, bitch,” she said to Maddy, and to a massive cheer. 

Maddy moved into her, a face-off of a bare foot.  She tossed her bra to Tom too.  It was clear by now what kind of VIP he was.  Their nipples nearly brushed.

“I will fuck you up, cunt,” Maddy promised.

The DJ hit the music, and the room lights.  Only the stage was spotlit. 

Hands flashed into hair, and dual screams cut through the throbbing beat.

They smashed together, breasts and stomachs, each jerking the other’s head back by her hair, hard.  Throats exposed.  Eyes shut tight in pain.  Faces tilted straight up at the club ceiling.  Their breasts dragged back and forth in a grinding crush, nipples dueling.  Maddy staggered as Vicki jerked harder. The redhead’s ass flexed hard as she forced Maddy to give ground.  Still chest to chest she flattened the brunette’s tits with hers, forcing a gasp of pain.

Maddy twisted sideways, wrenching Vicki’s head down.  Overbalanced, they both fell. Maddy banged Vicki’s head against the stage floor, so hard the sound of the impact was audible over the music.  A ripple ran through the audience as it dawned clearly on everyone that this was no faked exhibition.  Men left their seats to crowd the stage.  Bouncers made sure no one blocked Tom’s view as the two women grappled and catballed in a shrieking tangle.

Vicki muscled herself atop Maddy and sank both claws into her breasts, squeezing and twisting two handfuls of flesh.  Maddy screamed, and beat at her arms for a moment before stabbing her hands up into Vicki’s swaying tits. She slammed them together then dragged them apart and down.  It was Vicki’s turn to scream.  Maddy reversed, shoving Vicki’s breasts up to her collarbone.  Vicki twisted Maddy’s tits more. They screamed in unison. Maddy bucked and bridged, toppling Vicki off but both still held their grips, Vicki crushing Maddy’s tits, Maddy trying to tear Vicki’s off her chest.

They pushed up to their knees. In the spotlights, they glistened with sweat. The music pounded; so did fists all along the rim of the stage, as men urged them on.  Tom saw tears in Maddy’s eyes as beads of blood popped up around Vicki’s embedded nails.  The brunette was breathing in hard, hitching gasps.  She screamed again and changed her grip to Vicki’s bulging nipples.  Vicki couldn’t stand that.  She jerked free and spun away.  Slowly they got to their feet.

“Fucking whore,” Vicki snarled. “He’ll see I’m better than you. Everyone here will see it.”

“Bring it, bitch,” said Maddy.  She curled her hands into claws.

They clashed again. This time, as Maddy went for Vicki’s hair, the redhead delivered open-handed slaps to her tits, then dug a claw hold into Maddy’s abs.

“Ohhh fuck,” Maddy gasped. Her grip in Vicki’s hair slackened. Vicki grabbed her left breast with her other hand. Maddy shuddered with pain, her hands sliding down Vicki’s shoulders.

“Does it hurt, bitch?” Vicki said. “Take it, you cheap fucking cocksucker!”   She pushed Maddy back a shambling step, then another and another, until she drove her into the brass pole that rose from the stage.  With Maddy pinned, Vicki drove the belly claw even deeper.  “Not so fucking tough, are you?” she said, as Maddy sobbed in pain.  Vicki dropped her breast claw, swung behind Maddy, and clamped it back in a reach-around onto her right breast. With the brunette’s spine against the pole, Vicki clenched her abs from the left while dragging her breast into her armpit the opposite direction.

Maddy’s head lolled back, her ear against the pole.   Vicki released the stomach claw and grabbed her left breast.  The redhead jerked, hard, the muscles in her forearms corded from her grip. The skin and connective tissue in Maddy’s cleavage stretched to the tearing point as Vicki pulled her tits around to her ribs.  Tom couldn’t look away from the savagery.  Maddy’s belly still bore the livid mark of the stomach claw, and now Vicki tortured her tits.  The fury radiating out of Vicki was unbelievably erotic. She was trying to destroy Maddy’s breasts.

Maddy gripped Vicki’s hands.  She had to get those talons out of her chest or it was over.  The pain was too much.  She dug her thumbs into the tendons and nerves under the inner surface of the redhead’s wrists.  Vicki gasped.  She had to let go.  But as she did, she turned the grip and caught Maddy’s wrists.  She pulled the dancer’s arms back, pinned them together behind the pole.  Maddy tits bounced and swayed, mottled with bruises and fingermarks.  Blood trickled from the worst of those.  Vicki could hold both her hands with one – a grip on her two thumbs, bending them painfully.  With her free hand, she grabbed Maddy’s dark hair and pulled her head back.  She twisted her around the pole until they faced Tom’s table.

“Tell Tom, you whore,” Vicki spat.  “Tell him you don’t compare to me.”

“Fuck you,” Maddy gasped.  Her body was on magnificent display, streaked with sweat. Her throat was exposed. Her breasts and belly heaved against the pain. Vicki wrenched her head back more, until Maddy’s chin was pointed nearly straight up.

“You think because he used to fuck you he still want you,” Vicki said. “He’s mine now, bitch.”

“You saw his eyes last night,” Maddy gasped. “He does still want me, and you know it.”  She screamed as Vicki shoved her arms up.  Her breasts bounced and Tom’s gaze went to them. Vicki saw it, and it made her rage spike. She let go of Maddy’s arms, spinning her off the pole to face her. She rifled a vicious slap into Maddy’s face, then a backhand strike.  Maddy staggered.  Vicki hit her with a hard open-handed uppercut into her breast, a brutal slap.   Then Vicki smashed her knee into Maddy’s stomach.  Holding her hair, she did it again, gutting her.  Maddy collapsed to her hands and knees.  Vicki kicked her in the ribs.  “I’m beating the shit out of you,” Vicki said.  “You think he’ll want you when I’m done?”  She kicked her again.  This time Maddy trapped her leg.  The look on her face as she slammed Vicki to the stage was pure murder. 

Maddy rained slaps and fists into Vicki’s head and breasts.  She opened a cut in the redhead’s eye, right at the outer corner.  The blood that streamed down Vicki’s cheek was like crimson tears..  She drove her fists into Vicki’s tits so hard that she beat them flat, her knuckles crunching into ribs beneath them.  She dragged her by her auburn hair and to the edge of the stage and bent her head back over it, her hair dangling down, her face tilted upside down at Tom as Maddy choked her with one hand and mauled her bruised tits with the other.

“You don’t compare to me,”  Maddy raged at her.  “You weak piece of shit!”  The pale skin of Vicki’s breasts was livid red now as Maddy scratched and punched her.  She jerked and shuddered in pain.  Maddy repaid the stomach claw.  She ripped Vicki’s green lace panties and attacked her pussy, raking it with her nails, stabbing fingers deep into her.  Vicki screamed in desperation.  She clutched Maddy’s hair and jackknifed, falling off the stage and taking her tormentor with her to the club floor at the foot of Tom’s table.

It didn’t work.  Maddy was still on top.  Now she dragged Vicki up and drove her face into the table top right in front of her fiance.  She flipped her onto her back and went for her throat again.  Tom sat there, looking down the way he might look at a restaurant menu, at Vicki’s face darkening as Maddy choked her, at Vicki’s tits jerking back and forth on her chest, at Maddy’s tits swaying over her.  The crowd pressed in, both customers and the other dancers.  Music pounded.  Vicki fought for air with small rasping hitches.  Maddy was panting with effort.  It was surreally, primally, savage.  Tom could smell them, sweat and blood and perfume.  He had nothing to compare it to.

Vicki’s hand closed on his cocktail glass.  She smashed it into Maddy’s face, into her cheekbone.  The brunette’s head whipped sideways and her legs buckled.  Vicki threw her left and they crashed to the floor.  Maddy was dazed but not out.  Vicki pushed up first.  She buried both hands in Maddy’s hair and dragged her back to the stage.  She pulled her to her feet and pinned her against it.  She took a half-step back and with a wild backhand swing she hammered the edge of her open hand into Maddy’s breast.  The savage chop seemed to cut her tit in half as it pounded it against her chest wall.  Maddy sobbed.  Vicki chopped her again, and again, then raked her nails down her chest from collarbone to over her nipples.

Maddy had to do something.  She slashed with both hands at Vicki’s face, forcing her to jerk away to protect her eyes.  Then Maddy buried both hands in red hair; used both hands to drive Vicki’s face down into the stage.  Maddy rolled behind Vicki, and pounded her fist into her back.  She tore off the remnants of Vicki’s panties and clawed her ass before slamming her pelvis into it.  Vicki’s tits lay on the stage as her belly smacked against its vertical face.  Maddy bodied up on her, grinding her into it, and reached under her arms.  She dug the heels of her hands into Vicki’s tits, crushing them against the polished floor.  She curled her grip over them, pulled them up, and smashed them back down.  Vicki’s face was white with pain. 

Maddy locked her hands around Vicki in a full nelson, lifted her shoulders up and back, and drove her breasts down into the edge of the stage.  The edge hit directly on her tender nipples, driving them all the way back to her chest wall.  Maddy rubbed her back and forth against this edge.  Vicki’s hair obscured her face now but her broken sobs were testament to agony.

“You think your tits compare to mine?” Maddy gasped.  “How much can they take?”  She let go with one hand but held a half-nelson and her weight on Vicki’s back still crushed the redhead’s tits.  She raked Vicki’s ass again and then attacked her pussy from behind.  “I’ll do whatever it takes to beat you, whore!  Whatever I have to do to make you beg.”   

Tom imagined how broken Vicki would have to be before she begged, how viciously Maddy would have to hurt her first.  It partly sickened him, but it aroused him more.  Did Maddy have that kind of savageness in her?  He thought that Vicki did.  Another spectator bumped into his table, and turned to him.  “Dude – who do you want to win this?” he asked, his voice in awe of the ongoing brutality.  Tom just shook his head silently.  The spectator turned back as Vicki screamed again. “Jesus!” he said. 

Maddy pushed Vicki up onto the stage floor.  She lay there limp as Maddy pulled herself up too.  Maddy dragged her to center stage by her hair.  She lifted her to her knees and slammed her face into the brass pole, then pushed her chest into it.  It ran up through Vicki’s cleavage like an enormous cock.  Maddy caught each hard pink nipple between her thumbs and fingers, and pulled.  She stretched Vicki’s tits out to agonizing lengths before her sweaty grip failed with a final cruel lightning bolt of pain in the redhead’s areolas.  Maddy did it again.  Then she smashed her fist into the outside of Vicki’s left breast, crushing it against the metal.

“Say it, bitch!” Maddy shouted.  “Say I’m better!  Beg me to stop, you cunt!”

Vicki only sobbed in agony.  Her breasts were a mass of bruises and claw marks.  Blood dripped slowly from her slashed pussy.  Maddy slapped and punched her tits again and again.  A song ended and the DJ was too stunned to start another.  The two women – their gasps and sobs and screams – and the sounds of the crowd were the only soundtrack now.
 
Furious and frustrated, Maddy left Vicki kneeling with the pole between her battered tits.  If the bitch wouldn’t submit, she’d humiliate her another way.  She slipped down from the stage and went to Tom.  She looked at him but made sure Vicki could hear.

“She challenged me, Tom.  She tried to beat me.  She tried to beat my tits.  But look at her now.”  Maddy raised her arms, and swayed seductively.  “And look at me.  Who’s better, Tom?”  She had her breasts in Tom’s face now; sweaty, bruised, scratched – and unbearably erotic.  She peeled her white lace panties down over her hips and threw her head back as Tom sucked her nipple into his mouth.  She turned triumphantly to face Vicki and took a seat across Tom’s lap, reaching down between her thighs to massage his throbbing cock through his slacks before unzipping him and freeing it.  She slowly stroked it, base to tip and back.

“I know my pussy is tighter than hers,” Maddy purred, unknowingly answering Vicki’s whispered question from the night before.  The redhead stared at her dully, eyes dark with hate.  “I just had half my hand up her slutty snatch.  Remember how I’d milk your cock dry with mine, Tom?”

As she said it, her hand milked a short spurt of pre-cum from him.  She stared back at Vicki and slid her fingers into her mouth.  “We all know who’s better,” Maddy said. 

Vicki pushed up and lunged forward.  Maddy lurched forward off of Tom and met her head-on at the edge of the stage.

They staggered in the small space between the stage and Tom, locked together in a chest-to-chest clinch.  Maddy wrapped her arms around Vicki’s ribs in a bearhug, burying her face in the side of the redhead’s neck so that claws couldn’t get to it.  She lifted Vicki, and smashed her into the stage face and edge, her tits crushing Vicki’s with the impact.  She pulled back, lifted, did it again.  Again.  She felt Vicki’s arms drop.  She squeezed, and rolled her tits in a tight figure eight against her rival’s.

“Give up, bitch,” Maddy said into Vicki’s ear.  “You can’t beat me.  You aren’t good enough.”  Her nipples were stabbing into Vicki’s nipples, deep in the center of the mass of crushed tits.  Vicki’s arms lay limp on the stage.  Her head lolled back, her eyes closed against tears.  Maddy lifted her face from Vicki’s neck.  She squeezed. 

Vicki breathed in fast shallow gasps.  The pain in her breasts was a burning, all-consuming thing, made all the worse by the fact that the brunette inflicted it not with her claws or fists but with her breasts.  Who’s better?  Is there any doubt, if my breasts destroy yours?  And make no mistake, Vicki was on the edge of destruction, a whisper from total surrender, an eyelash from screaming for mercy.  Would it be so bad to be the lesser woman?  Maddy squeezed, and  Vicki jerked from a starburst of pain as some small thing deep in her breast ruptured.  “Submit to me, you weak cunt!” Maddy snarled.

Yes, it was so bad.  Vicki couldn’t bear the thought of it.  She’d die first.  She lifted her arms, the hardest thing she’d ever done, and slammed her hands together on Maddy’s head.  Maddy screamed and staggered back from the thunderclap to her ears, releasing Vicki.  Vicki rammed both hands into the brunette’s swinging tits and drove her back into Tom’s table.  It toppled and spilled them both to the floor, but Vicki was on top and her locked-out arms drove her hands like spikes into Maddy’s chest. 
Adrenaline poured into Vicki’s bloodstream.  Maddy’s dark hair was spread in a wild fan around her head, her legs were splayed open.  Vicki smashed her knee into her rival’s smooth-shaven pussy, crushing her clit against her public bone.  Her grip on Maddy’s tits was unbreakable now, the brunette’s nipples bulging out between fingers buried in her flesh.  Vicki surged with savage glee at the pain she saw in Maddy’s face.  Knee again, she thought, and hammered it over and over into Maddy. 

“I am good enough!” Vicki screamed, spittle flying from her lips.  “I am better than you!”  Maddy sobbed as now it was something in her tits that burst, as her pussy was battered into wreckage.  She was barely conscious when Vicki flipped her to her stomach and wrenched her into a camel clutch hold, her arms pinned over Vicki’s legs, her breasts – livid with bruises and swelling rapidly – swinging free.

“You say it!” Vicki demanded.  Her arms trembled as she dragged Maddy’s head back, fingers laced under her chin.  “Say I’m better than you!”

Vicki held her in trembling agony as long as she could, but it wasn’t enough.  Maddy wouldn’t say it.  No matter how much Vicki bent her spine; no matter how much it hurt.  No one was going to win the comparison by concession.  One woman had to beat the other until all her fight was gone.

As soon as Maddy was upright, Vicki lashed savage slaps into her face and breasts and ribs.  Sweat flew from the dancer’s body; blood flew from her battered mouth.  Vicki shot forward and rammed her knee into Maddy’s lower belly.  It was a brutal, devastating shot.  Maddy made an inhuman cry of pain and collapsed again to her knees.  Vicki hoped she’d ruptured her uterus or her ovaries. Fucking bitch.  She moved in.  Kill her, she thought.  She reached for Maddy’s hair.

Maddy’s fist whipped up and into Vicki’s pussy.  A bright bolt of agony shot through her pelvis.  Maddy hit her again, then clawed her – thumbnail in her clit, four fingers stabbing into her, tearing at her vagina.  Vicki fell.  They were face-to-face, on their knees.  They both knew from here only one of them would get up again. 

Fists.  Nails.  Teeth.

They screamed and cursed and sobbed and finally fought in near-silence.  The crowd pulled closer.

Vicki’s arms gave out.  She swayed on her knees, her eyes dull, half-closed.  Maddy slapped her breasts one way, then the other, then chopped down.  Vicki had no answer.  Maddy’s fist in her guts bent her double.  She couldn’t straighten up again.  Maddy gripped Vicki’s hand, and took her engagement ring.  She twisted it into her torn and battered nipple, then into the cut at her eye. 
“You lose,” Maddy said.  Vicki couldn’t lift her head.  Nothing left.  Maddy hit her in the back of her neck.  Her face smashed into the floor.  She lay there, unmoving.

Maddy looked at Tom.  She stood, unsteadily at first.  She pulled him up, and through the stunned crowd.  She had to have him.  The door to one of the club’s VIP rooms barely clicked shut before she pushed him onto the couch and mounted him.  She came, with the same intensity as she had fought, in only seconds.  He poured out into her at the same time. 

Maddy collapsed on Tom’s chest, totally spent.  She had slipped the diamond onto her finger, without even realizing it.  She looked at it now, her hand on his chest.  She thought it was beautiful – beyond comparison.

The End

Thank you for reading! For more of BCW8’s Stories: Click Here!