The cage was located in a warehouse near the Mississippi river. Inside, three dozen men of all nationalities and social classes stood in eager anticipation around the brightly lit cage. It was a rectangular surface of a 60-foot by 40-foot area, surrounded by a chain link fence. Blood stains of former fallen fighters spotted the floor and the metal posts of the cage corners. The outside of the fence was kept darkened. It was quite smoky in the room, as many of the Chinese, Japanese, and European businessmen were smoking their cigarettes while waiting for the fight to start.
I had not seen Trang for the past two hours. She wished to be alone during that time in order to center herself for the fight. And not, I suspect, to let my anxiety or worry poison her conviction that she would win.
There had been a big change in her personality since we had left Texas. Trang had snapped out of the depressed funk that she had been in. There was a fulfillment that was growing inside of her. Winning the fights had ceased to be just the simple, fun, sexual thrill that had made up the early days of the Fever.
Or maybe it had always been about Trang’s self-esteem and I just never noticed. Each conquest was another notch on her mental checklist. She had felt like a failure for most of her life, since she had failed to attend college, or start a profitable business, as most of her family had. Trang had always had a desire and a drive to be great at something, but most of her attempts had failed miserably. But now she had her chance, to master an art that she seemed to have an innate talent for.
Catfighting.
The failures and losses just drove her harder to win the next time. The addiction was not only sexual, it was mental. It was driving Trang to take dangerous risks, and this risk, a cajun caged catfight in the backwater bayou, was the biggest one of our lives.
We didn’t try to find or talk to Helen before the fight. Trang wanted their reunion to be in the cage. But the day before the match, a note was waiting for us at the hotel:
KITTY,
MY MISTRESS HAS PROMISED ME FREEDOM IF I RIP YOUR PRETTY LITTLE HEAD OFF IN COMBAT TOMORROW. IF I DON’T KILL YOU, YOU’LL BECOME HER SLAVE, TOO. BE SMART, AND LEAVE THIS CITY NOW.
HELEN
That indicated a couple of things to me, based on what Daisy had mentioned. One, that Helen had finally lost, and lost big time, in a caged fight recently. Two, her mistress was possibly a graduate of the Catfighters Academy, as Daisy had mentioned that one of them had been after her hide. The blonde bitch had run away from our hotel room after Trang had dominated her mercilessly, before I could question her about this.
I snapped out of my reverie when I heard one of the cage doors slammed shut.
The men were silenced as Helen stood near her entry way, hands on her hips, strutting to the corner of the room. The catfire in her brown-green eyes silenced every man who looked at her naked 5’4″ body. She appeared to have changed little since Texas, although I did note a tinge of gray in her curly black hair now. What would these men have said if they knew a 39 year old woman had walked in to fight to her possible death? Helen easily looked more like 30.
As I looked down to her feet, I saw the only article of clothing she wore: red stiletto shoes with 1 inch heels.
Then I heard the noise of the other door closing, and saw Helen’s nipples become erect.
Trang had entered the room. At two inches taller than Helen, her body was untypically Asian. Her legs were thick and muscled. Trang’s shoulders were wide, her back rippled with muscles, her biceps were defined, and her stomach washboard tight. I wouldn’t categorize her as a weight-lifter in the Cory Everson league, but she was definitely way beyond the Jane Fonda-style aerobicized look. There was fire from her big brown eyes too. Anger was her aura, through her long dark hair that went halfway down her back, down to her clenched fists.
Trang’s piercing yell went through the room as she ran on her black-heeled shoes towards Helen in the corner. Helen crouched down and blocked Trang’s first punch. The two wildcats began trading a series of fist blows and slaps that got the men cheering and yelling. Helen’s right hand sliced into Trang’s left forearm, and I immediately saw a streak of red appear. Trang answered with a right punch to Helen’s head, then followed that up with her left hand whizzing past Helen’s face.
I thought Trang must have missed.
A little later, I saw blood oozing out of a cut above Helen’s left eye.
Then I realized: both women had filed their nails to be pointed, razor sharp weapons. And after that I saw what the second weapon was: the shoes. Trang’s leg shot upward and grazed Helen’s cheek. Another slice of red appeared. The stiletto heels of the shoes were also razor sharp weapons!
The blood must have heightened Helen’s battle senses. Trang fired a few punches and kicks at Helen, but she parried them all. On Trang’s third kick, Helen dodged, then caught Trang’s right ankle in her left hand. Helen gripped it with both hands and dug her nails into Trang’s calf. Helen walked forward and drove Trang backward. My darling hopped on her left foot, to the center of the room. Helen smirked at Trang’s predicament.
“Now I am going to say, hello, baby!” Helen shouted, and slammed her right fist into Trang’s cunt.
The men in the room groaned while Trang’s grimace showed us her pain. Helen shoved Trang’sstanding leg and my darling crashed to the floor, flat on her back.
Helen pounced on top of Trang with her nude body. Helen’s hands gripped Trang’s wrists and held them to the floor, while she pressed her torso and knees against Trang’s lower body.
“I see you’ve learned some new moves,” Helen sneered, looking down directly into Trang’s eyes.
“Well, dear, so have I!”
Helen’s jaw lunged downward, and bit down hard into Trang’s nose. I watched Helen’s butt shake to hold the pressure against Trang, as her feet danced red trails along Trang’s calves while the biting was going on. Trang struggled to get out of the hold, yelling, “You fucking bitch!”
Trang’s could press Helen’s arms about a foot off the ground, but it wasn’t enough to throw the older fighter off. Trang decided to bite back—at Helen’s exposed throat. Helen tried to back her face away from Trang. The men erupted with a yell as Trang used the surprise to flip Helen over on her back, maintaining the bite.
Helen used her right knee to shove Trang over to the side. Her right hand was now free and slashed at Trang’s side near her torso, leaving red marks. Trang rolled away and got to her feet.
She and Helen now circled each other, their heels clicking, their breaths heavy in anticipation. The adrenaline was going through my veins too, pumping about a third of my blood supply into my engorged penis.
Oh, how I hoped that somehow Trang would win and that we would have Helen as a permanent houseguest! While I feared the alternative of fucking Helen after she had defeated my beloved, I had no doubt that sex addict in me would not deny this if it came to pass.
The scent and promise of death also heightened my arousal, though I tried to deny it.
Helen shot out her own brand of special low-kick, a move designed to sweep Trang off her feet, so to speak. To evade it, Trang leapt up into the air, her thighs enveloping Helen’s neck, clamping tightly down on it, and bringing herself and Helen crashing down on the floor. Trang landed on her side, her arms absorbing the impact. But Helen landed face first, on her chin. The sudden fall seemed to take the wind out of the Hellcat.
Trang took hold of Helen’s arms, crossed them in front of Helen’s head, and swiftly changed position to kneel down upon them. From our viewpoint behind the wire cage, we saw Helen’s head peering out from under Trang’s lovely set of buns, her shoulders pinned. Trang’s kneeled legs sat on Helen’s arms. Trang’s knees hit the sides of Helen’s torso.
Helen’s naked back and butt were exposed to Trang. Like food on a silver platter to a starving man.
“This is for Texas!” Trang shouted, and dug her claws deep into Helen’s butt. “Aiee-yaahhh!” Trang yelled, as she drug her claws along the buns upwards to her Helen’s back, leaving wide red trails in their wake. Helen screamed curses in response. Trang then stabbed her claws back into Helen’s buns several times, Trang’s cathartic wail of revenge erupting with each stab. This was grand payback for Trang not being able to sit for a week after the fuck-fight room battle in Helen’s Austin home.
Helen’s deadly feet stabbed backward, aiming for Trang’s head. But Trang caught one foot, ripped off the shoe and threw it in the corner, then did the same to the other. Then she bent Helen’s legs backward to perform a sitting crab maneuver.
“Submit, Helen!” Trang yelled.
Helen grunted a negative response, shifting her head sideways, flat on the floor.
“Submit, or I’ll break your fucking back!” Trang yelled again.
With great effort, Helen moved her head to reach Trang’s right calf. She bit at the calf muscle with her teeth, exerting all the pressure she could on that tiny area. The surprise made Trang release Helen’s legs. Hellcat extended her legs further, ensnared Trang’s neck, and threw my darling’s body down to the floor.
Helen sat up to flex and extend more leg pressure upon Trang’s neck. Helen reached out with her claw at Trang’s butt, and grazed it lightly. Realizing that her lower body was in danger from Helen’s razor claws, Trang shifted her legs away on the floor away from her foe. Helen attempted to drag her upper body towards them, but groaned when her bare, ragged, butt made contact with the hard floor.
Her head still locked inside Helen’s legs, Trang twisted her torso around, and got her knees against the floor. Shoving, Trang somersaulted forward, flipping her head out of the leg vice, landing on her feet and standing up.
Trang twirled to face Helen, who was already on her knees. Trang’s foot grazed Helen’s right hip and bun. Helen shrieked and stood up, punching Trang hard on her left breast.
The two amazonion warriors circled each other warily. Trang’s face was flushed from the choke hold, her arm had a tiny gash, and her nose was a bit puffy. She was sweating profusely, but otherwise seemed to be all right, gauging Helen’s every move.
Helen, on the other hand, looked much worse: her back was jagged pink, her buns red and raw, and the gash above her left eye slowly dripped blood downward. This, combined with her sweaty forehead, stung the left eye.
Hellcat brought her hand up to brush away the blood/sweat for a brief moment.
Trang seized this opportunity to smash at Helen’s face with her fist, hitting the left side where the cut was. Blood flew off Helen’s face and flew through the fence, landing on a few dark Armani suits in the male crowd. We groaned doubly as Trang quickly followed up with a razor kick to Helen’s shoulder, which caused Hellcat to fall hard on her back.
Trang hesitated for a moment, as if not to believe her own success, then leapt on her prey. But Helen was ready for her, or maybe she just got lucky. Trang’s vagina fell hard into Helen’s knee, and her mouth formed that silent, incredibly painful “O” shape. Helen’s hands seized Trang’s hair by the roots, pulled, and rammed her face to the hard floor, once, twice, three times.
Blood erupted from Trang’s nose.
While my lover was dazed, Helen wrapped Trang’s long black hair around her face, covering her eyes, nose, and mouth. Ingeniously, Helen took Trang’s left arm and wrapped it around my femizon’s neck, pulling on the left wrist. Helen was using Trang’s own arm to choke her to death!
Helen’s legs were wrapped around Trang’s rib cage. I saw Helen’s legs tremble as she exerted great pressure in an effort to crack Trang’s ribs. Helen’s left hand was free to claw at Trang’s back deeply. Trang grabbed hold of Helen’s wrist with her free hand to stop it.
Trang was locked up now inside of Helen’s death-grip. She was blinded, suffocating from the choke hold and her own hair.
Helen grinned as her powerful short legs caused Trang to groan under the hair cover. “Give it up, cunt!” Then I heard her hiss more softly, “I’ll kill you just to get my freedom back.”
A shiver ran up my spine then as I heard those words. My cock stiffened even more as I watched Trang’s buns helplessly quiver. Now looking back on it, I have to wonder, what dark part of my mind got so excited about sex, violence, and death?
Then Trang started to use the part of her body that wasn’t locked up: her legs. I watched the sweat glisten off her leg muscles as she pulled them into a crouch. Slowly, she raised up one knee.
Helen panted and kept up the leg pressure.
The seconds seemed like minutes, but Trang raised her other leg and stood up, bringing Helen’s body with her. Trang’s awesome leg power had raised both of them up off the floor!
Helen had to release the choke hold on Trang, in order to grab my megababe’s shoulder to prevent herself from falling to the ground. Her other claw also dug into Trang’s shoulder for support. Meanwhile, her legs were still wrapped around Trang’s ribcage.
The hair fell away from Trang’s eyes. She saw the metal post in the corner directly behind Helen’s back. Trang’s arms lifted Helen up under her legs, the claws digging into Helen’s buns once again.
“Aiieeeeeeeee—” Trang yelled, running, carrying Helen, towards the post, “—yaaahhhhhhhhh!”
Helen’s back slammed into the metal post with terrific impact. The impact registered across her spine and neck. Trang backed up two steps and rammed Helen into the post again. Helen screamed bloody murder. Trang readied for a third ram. Helen’s claws reached for her eyes. Trang released Helen’s buns and grabbed Hellcat’s wrists just as the nails started to pinch.
Helen’s legs dropped to floor. A look of utter fury came over her face, as she rammed her knee into Trang’s cunt twice.
Trang let go of Helen’s wrists. Helen grabbed Trang’s hair and pulled her head downward. Helen’s knee rammed into Trang’s jaw very hard.
Trang fell backward on her butt. Helen leapt downward at her, but Trang rolled over and Hellcat scraped her elbows and knees on the floor. Cursing, Helen grabbed a stiletto shoe off of Trang’s left foot and raised the heel-end of it above her head.
“You fucking stupid bitch!” Helen yelled. “I told you not to come here! Now I have to do—” Helen rammed the razor-sharp heel into Trang’s right bun. “—this!”
Trang’s screamed pierced through the room, cutting off all noise, as the one-inch weapon bit into her flesh and blood slowly oozed out.
The attach sent adrenaline pumping through Trang’s body. I saw all the muscles in her back and butt tremble. Trang arched her body backward and hooked her left arm around Helen’s neck. She dragged her older opponent down to the floor. From my vantage point, to the side, I saw Helen grip Trang’s neck in her right elbow. Both women seemed ready to struggle on their knees to the death.
But Trang was driven now to be more vicious. Her right fist pummeled Helen’s face mercilessly, five times in a row. I heard Trang emanate the most unholy cat-like scream with each punch. Trang’s right claw sliced Helen’s forehead again, giving her both a left and right cut above the eyes. Helen’s grip on Trang’s neck faded, as Trang gripped Helen’s hair and rammed her head down on the hard floor.
Helen slumped to the floor on her stomach. Trang reared up on her knees, and reached behind to pull the heel out of her right bun. She threw the shoe away with a disgusted look.
Allowing Helen no time to recover, Trang rolled, and sat down just behind Helen’s feet. She gripped Helen’s legs by the ankles, and spread them. Her right foot dug into Helen’s right thigh to spread the legs wider, exposing Helen’s cunt. This was the foot that still had the stiletto shoe.
The heel bit into Hellcat’s thigh. She groaned and tried to reach backwards. But Trang rammed Helen’s naked cunt with her other shoeless foot.
I saw Helen’s chest jump upward in recoil.
“This is for payback from Texas,” Trang said, her voice loud. Her foot rammed Helen’s cunt again two more times. Helen tried to crawl away, but Trang pulled on her legs to keep her close. I saw blood trickling down from Hellcat’s thigh where Trang’s heel bit into it.
“And this,” Trang said, voice even louder, “is for today!” Her foot slammed into Helen’s vagina three more times. Helen’s whole body shook, and her face grimaced in pain.
“No more…” Helen gasped, but Trang didn’t hear it.
“And last but not least,” Trang yelled, “THIS IS FOR THE ALL OTHER BITCHES WHO MERCILESSLY RAMMED MY CUNT!” Trang screamed, a piercing shriek that would make a rabbit freeze in its tracks.
A bloodcurdling rage came over my lover’s face, as she rammed Helen’s genitals another half dozen times. If there was ever any doubt whether or not my lover had the killer instinct necessary to win, this terminated it.
The Fever could make her do anything to win.
Helen screamed and slapped at the floor with her fists. Tears were streaming down her face.
Trang seemed not to hear her. She stopped kicking. “Now,” Trang said, gasping for breath, “do you submit and acknowledge me as your mistress forever more, or do I have to use the other foot—with the heel?”
Helen sobbed tears of pain. “Yessss!” she cried. “You are my mistress! My cat goddess! Forever! I forsake all others for you!”
“Oh,” Trang replied, her face slightly furrowed, “good.” She lifted her heel out of Helen’s thigh, slinging the foot over her head, throwing off the shoe. “Good, slave.”
Helen brought her legs up to her chest and lay in a fetal position, crying.
The men outside the cage erupted. Some with shouts, others with groans, as befitted those who won and lost with the heavy and intense betting on the match.
I almost felt like crying for joy myself, as I saw Trang get up from the floor. She stood up and winked at me, smiling even though the blood dripped down her upper lip into her teeth.
I was amazed that she suffered so little damage in comparison to Helen. Her back and calves were razed, her shoulder cut, her nose bleeding and face puffy, and her right bun punctured, but the rest of her was unbruised. Not so for Helen—almost every major area had been cut or bruised. Hopefully, some of the secret salves that Trang’s Filipina trainers had given her would heal the cuts and scratches in a matter of days.
The doors to the cage opened, and a pair of men came in to take Helen away. “Not necessary,”
Trang said to them, holding up her hand. “I take care of my own slaves.” She kneeled down and scooped up Helen in her arms, carrying her through the doorway to the dressing room.
“Well, pal,” a voice said from behind, slapping my shoulder, “I guess I won big again thanks to your lady there. And so have you.” It was Lustiricci. He was grinning from ear to ear, with a big fat cigar in his right hand. He handed me an envelope with the $20,000 in cash stuffed inside. “Man, those two went at it like it was more than money. Did they know each other from Texas?”
“Yeah,” I replied, “I guess you can say they had a run-in back there. Trang was just starting out.
Helen sliced Trang up real good in her own sort of homemade cage. But today she got even.”
“Listen, pal,” Lustiricci said, placing his hand on my shoulder again. “You’ve made me some money. I wanna do business with you and your lady again someday. So I’m gonna give you some advice. Get out of town real quick with Trang and Helen. Way out of town.”
“Why?” I asked, then I remembered Helen’s note. “Helen’s mistress. Is she here?”
Lustiricci stubbed out his cigarette with his shoe. “No, I’ve kept her away from this fight on purpose. If she was here, she’d go berserk and attack Trang right now. And I can’t have that happen yet. No, if your lady fights this monster, that’s gonna be a real special event.”
“Because you want to make money out of it. You want them to fight in another one of your cages!” And I knew that both Trang and I would instantly go for it. “Helen’s mistress. She’s a Filipina with a tattoo, just like the one that Trang’s got on her butt, right?”
“One of my scouts found her a month ago in Manila, and we brought her over here. A big bruiser of a Filipina, that one is. She made Helen submit in a third of the time that your gal took. And she’s real thirsty to take on Trang again.”
“Tara,” I said, gulping hard. “My god. You’ve brought Tara over here.”
He pointed at my chest to emphasize a point. “Look. I’m a real powerful guy, but I can’t control this broad. Tara not only wants to kill Trang, she wants a piece of your dick, too. Don’t stay in New Orleans, not even another night. Don’t go back to Texas, because she knows where you live. Go to a fucking island and let Trang recover from this fight. Then make her train. Train her to kill. Because from what I saw today, your lady is going to need more of an edge to take out that Filipina bitch.”
Trang emerged from the locker room, wearing her street clothes. Helen followed her woozily, with her head all bandaged up.
“Shit,” I muttered. “There goes my job.”
“Forget your fucking two-bit job.” Lustiricci replied, and pointed at Trang. “Managing her to stay alive. That’s your new fucking career. You won’t both be nothin’ without me, just remember that.”
To Be Continued In Chapter 11. Click Here to Read It!