You have have beaten your hated rival, and yet still you do not feel like a winner.
You caught her face between your breasts and held tightly until beneath you she went limp, and yet it is you who feels breathless.
In your battle of torn clothing, pulled hair, and scratched skin, it is you who prevailed, but still you feel broken and dejected.
For the man you both fought over left. Not during your engagement or just before it. No for it was months ago that he took his final and heartbreaking leave of you both.
He, the man of your mutual dreams, refusing to be the meat over which you and your enemy fought.
Despite his refusal and rejection, you and she still meet, still tangle, and still tear. Week after week. Month after month. In a cycle of vengeance and at the draw of desperation.
You blaming her and she blaming you for a loss of love that cruelly haunts and terribly torments.
And though this time you won, it was she before, and you know eventually, it will be she again.
You and your rival becoming trapped in co-dependent roles. Firstly as each the other’s punishment for the compromise neither of you could make. And secondly as the last remnant and reminder of the man you both loved and together lost.
It’s a nice short story. Their rivalry led so far that they both lost everything. The only thing left to them is their rivalry. Trapped in this cycle of lust and violence from which they can no longer free themselves and probably no longer want it. What do they have left?
It makes me melancholic. But I like it.
The picture really is what guided me to the melancholic tone of the post. The smothering woman just looks sad, at least to me.
Most of my posts come from looking at an image and just writing a little story that I can see playing out in the picture.
Glad you liked it though!
The rare unicorn of a man, not driven by powers granted, by testosterone, a will to live, to be appreciated for being the hunter as we came to frame women fighting over us, seems to exist after all 😉
I was recently taken to task by someone we both know about writing a male character who didn’t immediately whip out his dick when he found two women locked together. I was told it was completely unbelievable.
Luckily this is fantasy! lol
The guy walking out in backseat battle two is totally believable especially after she chided him about perking up a friend that cheated on his wife. To any normal people outside of our genre would probably think she was having an affair with a woman! A teenage woman at that! Cheating hypocritical bitch would probably be the first thoughts to enter his mind.
Literally exactly what I was thinking when I conceived it. I think there is an assumption by fight fans that the was we see sexfights and titfights is the way everyone would see them. A battle for supremacy, ownership, and/or control.
But to a random dude-bro, who isn’t familiar, it’s just sex.
Now maybe, someone who is just a testosterone-fueled caveman, they’d find their wife having sex with another woman and immediately whip their dick out. But I’d bet that some men, would be hurt. ESPECIALLY, when Brenda, as you said, was so against David’s affair.
Alternatively, you could have just said that this is how people get boxed in 😉 You know me well enough that I’d use a different tone if I had something harsher as a means of criticism.
I myself struggle with deciding on a theme, plot and characters that can be brought into the mix, that can be fetishized without diminishing the agency of the female characters.
Which is what I’d say if the situation was reversed. That their fight isn’t a gender swapped conflict, where they act like a guy would love them to act, nor are they defined by the arbitrary and artificial scarcity that pulls women into conflict.
That they’re still doing it despite him being left a long time ago is testament that their fight has transformed into a personal conflict.
Make no mistake, I like it that in recent years American gals publicly started to stand up for each other and support each other, in a blatantly social conservative society (you can oilwrestle for me, but do pay your own medical research into illnesses mostly affecting women), yet while that said, as somebody how grew up in a socially conservative milieu, I also know, in contrast with the “girls are supposed to be meek” attitude, women become warriors themselves.
I won’t lie, of course there’s a ton of male expectation and encouragement, but there are genuine aggressive, socially challenged women who fight without instigation. The beauty of the catfight fantasy is that it paradoxically confronts the “majority, heterosexual women are ladylike” image, and just like in a horror movie, they fight without guns.
Drew, I think you misread my comment. I didn’t think you were criticizing me or the story. We’re all good.
I was actually adopting what you said as affirmation.
The beauty of the catfight fantasy is that it paradoxically confronts the “majority, heterosexual women are ladylike” image, and just like in a horror movie, they fight without guns.
I totally agree with this Drew. Picturing women that would IRL not engage in such behavior is a big draw for me.