MaulerMercedes vs. The Better Woman from FCF
MaulerMercedes:
The office stuff did go down, and I am pissed and cannot seem to find my Bf, until I did find my iPhone and saw him in the neighborhood I know you live in. I text you a message ‘are you home?’ And head over anyways knowing full well what I think is going to erupt into a fury, sounds like wildcats, claws, hair, slaps. I wonder why she sabbaticals me at work…
Jennifer “The Better Woman“:
On a Pledge-sheened coffee table, a cell phone rattles. Text messages coming in hot and numerous, though I am busy. And unaware. My lips pressed to the man I love — the man we love, as he pulls back and away from me towards the door.
“I’ll text you later, Jenn.” The handsome man says with a smile. His tie loose and shirt untucked.
“You better,” I reply, as with a predator’s smirk I watch him step out the door. It shutting behind him, as in a truly gleeful mood I spin around in a circle. My smirk turning to a smile as I fall into my feather soft, blue fabric couch. My mind not on my cell phone or who might have texted me. The only person I care about having just left. And my one true enemy, having already been taken care of at work this morning.
Mercedes:
Tracking his phone and driving fast, I finally see it move – I dropped a pin and drive to the spot on the map. And see your fucking car! ‘What the fuck?’ I think to myself – my job and my man in the same afternoon – fuck no. Still in my outfit from work, a conservative skirt, heels, thigh highs, button up blouse with what was supposed to be sexy celebratory under garments underneath, I forget all that and bang on the door, ring the doorbell and kick the Strom door with my toes. ‘Open up, jenn!’
Jennifer:
In a state of utter contentment, I just sit. Leaning back into the soft back of the couch. Wearing nothing but a comfy pair of white panties and a work shirt your man brought and then left at my house. One that is wrinkled, and yet stained with my lipstick and a mixture of my perfume and his cologne. A smell that wafts through the air as suddenly I hear a loud series of bangs at the door and a voice. One I can only barely hear through the thick brick walls of my apartment and the loud ceiling fan spinning just above.
Could it be him? Coming back to me? Forgetting about that slut of a girlfriend he told me he had to go see? That is my hope as I stand and rush, excitedly running back to the door and without a thought of worry, pulling the door open to see … you….
Mercedes:
‘I fucking knew! First you screw me over at work and now, don’t even tell me you’re fucking my boyfriend/?!’ Asking but already knowing, seeing his shirt I button him up in this morning before we left the house for work. I pull te storm door open and barge in, pressing my shoulder into you enough you know I mean business, getting in the middle of the room and start screaming at you. HOW COULD YOU¿. WHY DID YOU¿. WHY ME AND MY BOYFRIEND¡. I FUCKING HATE YOU RIGHT NOW¡’ screaming at yiu at the top of my lungs looking for something to throw at you – but I cool off just enough and slip off both of my heels, kicking them off to the side near a flight of stairs. ‘Seriously, jenn, why?’ Almost with tears and anger full flowing from my voice, my lips and face quivering my body shaking in anger.
Jennifer:
I should be scared right now. Terrified. The gig is up. The ruse is over. You know about me and him. Our affair and lustful meetings behind your back. Not only that, but here you are the woman I have with small, petty little comments almost gotten fired from her dream job.
And though all of that should give me pause, and perhaps even lead me to flee my own apartment. I don’t. Instead, I walk over to you. Slowly. Confidently. And then with an overly dramatic and mockingly soft amount of force, I reach out and shove your shoulders back. My lips parting to speak not a moment later. “He’s mine. Your job is mine. And if you don’t leave right now, Mercedes. You’ll be mine too.”
Mercedes:
‘Oh fuck no, bitch!’ I respond as you confidently walk over to me – a move that quite honestly, intimated me, briefly. I stand straight and move closer to you, putting my hand and index finger into a point position and press it on your chest in between your cleavage, on your breast bone, and push back. ‘I’m not fucking leaving’ nearly putting my face touching yours, our bodies centimeters away from one another. ‘What are you going to do about it, huh bitch?’ As I stare you down with ice piercing eyes trying to strike fear into your head. My stomach filling up with butterflies, my clothed body standing in front of your half-dressed body, ready to explode any moment.
Jennifer:
As tension and animosity seem to crackle between us, warming the very air we fight for with every breath in our closeness, you stand your ground. Driving a finger into my chest, asking me what I will do about it. What I will do to you, now that you have come into my home and my territory.
It is a question I let linger for a moment. Smiling as you sneer. Appearing to beam with happiness and joy even as you smolder and rage. And though I do, in an instant, one so quick and unannounced it seemed to have struck like lightning, I suddenly reach both hands to your hair and in a forceful tug, drag your body into mine. Hissing at you in the resulting body-to-body press. “I’m going to finish my plan….”
Mercedes:
Surprised by your move I’m nearly taken off my feet by your tugs to my hair, my arms wildly getting outside of your now close presses bodies, my face near your neck just above your breasts. I hear your words- plan? What plan?. My only response is ‘fuck you jenn’ as I reach one arm around your back trying to find your hair to pull while the other one slaps hard for your ass and hip Trying to make the slaps loud and painful on your feminine body.
I try to twist us so we move away from the room center and towards the wall opposite the stairs, trying to get your side and mine up against the wall, hopeful I can use it as leverage.
Jennifer:
In seconds our battle escalates from a pull of hair and presing bodies, to a hurricane of slaps. Slaps that land wildly and without aim. Each of just trying to hurt each other. Punish each other. You for all the torment I have caused you, even if my motives are still a mystery to you. Other than wanting your man.Taking your man. And defending my right as a woman to do so.
But as we slap you drag and push — pull and pivot. Until finally, we crash into the wall across from my stairs. Our shoulders landing in unison. Just as you wanted. Just as you had planned.
Mercedes:
We hit the wall and my arm misses your hair. I try to pull on the hip part of your panties you so daringly wore, pulling them upwards but the side while my other arm works towards grabbing at your shoulder and trying to get your back to turn into the wall. My body feeling hot and red from the slaps already, which my clothes help to absorb, but it still hurts. I try to muster the strength to get your back on the wall while pulling your trashy underwear up and turning you back to the wall. ‘Come here bitch!’ I say through gritted teeth.
Jennifer:
As we tangle at the wall, I feel you tugging at my panties. And in reaction and in retort, I stop my slapping, my pulling of hair, and reach for the crisp, neatly edged neck of your blouse and yank as hard as I can. Buttons snapping off in every direction, as I split it down the front to your belly button. A feat of disrobing and damaging of clothing I accomplish, just as, in my distraction, you turn me and slam my back against the wall.
You telling me to come here, just as with a still confident and knowing smirk, I look at you with an excitement you cannot seem to place in terms of cause.
Mercedes:
My blue blouse top is ripped as buttons fly off, my huge breasts now exposed to the air with my minimalistic bra covering them slightly, seeing the grin on your face and getting annoyed. ‘What the fuck does this bitch want?’ I think to myself. But I got you where I wanted you and through the blouse ripping, I make a fist and send a punch – not full force since we are close quarters, but a fist nonetheless for your stomach. I feel one breast begin to pop out of my bra after my attempted punching but don’t bother to put it back in , rather, I go for your arms and try to grab your wrists and control your arms as best as I can.
Jennifer:
You have me pinned against the wall, and though you do I almost dare you. Almost beg you to attack me. And you do, by burying a fist deep into my shirt-covered tummy. A blow that makes me double over, until you slam me back, searching to grab my wrists. And though get one, slamming my left wrist hard on the red brick behind me, I keep my right away from you. And then as you maintain your focus to try and secure it, I dip it under your arm, and with what little space I have, punch you back. Punching you in the stomach back. A cruel and bratty sneer finally breaking through my smiling demeanor.
Reel though you do for a moment after the strike. Still you chase, still you find, and still after so much effort you catch my right wrist and pin it against the wall. You having me pinned and trapped, your hot body pressed to mine.
Mercedes:
I smile as I punch you as you double over, taking care to focus on winning over gloating. I grab your wrist but not both, and you strike back, it hurts, and I elicit a tiny whimper of pain from my open mouth. ‘Uhhhh!’ But this only causes me to focus more and I get my other hand on your wrist, pressing your arms over your head and seemingly in control, sans my abs tightening up from the punch, and my left breast now fully out of my bra, my nipple erect. As our bodies press I take a quick step back with both feet, trying to separate us some, then lifting my skinny sexy leg, try to press it into your lower abdomen, trying to keep hold of your wrists. I try to roll back, my hands on your wrists, my foot like a pole trying to monkey flip you over me and back to the center of the room, landing hopefully hard and violently on your back behind me!
Jennifer:
Against me you press. Into me you lean. And as you do, one of your beautiful breasts pops out completely. Your exposed nipple hard, just like both of mine. And though that should register within me, and you, somewhere in the depths of our depravity. Instead we ignore it. It passing by in the fog as I hiss and growl at you, trying to free myself from the wall.
A freedom you give me, by in a move more matador and luchador that office worker, you dig a foot into my abdomen, fall back, and toss me up and over your head as you roll. My body crashing down hard and awkwardly on my own, rug-covered cement floor. An impact that makes me groan, before squirming and reaching to place a hand at the base of my injured back.
Mercedes:
I look over at you as my monkey flip of you was wildly successful. I see you holding your back and smirk. I crawl up quickly, my breasts now both out of my bra and my dress torn in the back from the flip. I decide taunting is in order and I let my emotions get the better of me. ‘You fucking little bitch!’ I shout as I get up and walk over towards you, bending down to my knees and getting right in your face. ‘How dare you fuck with me and try to ruin my life!’ I decide I’m going to show you up, prove who is better, and humiliate you. I feel the pain you’re in allows me a chance to toy with you, dangerous as it is – I love doing it. I remove my torn blouse and unhook my bra, pulling the straps off my shoulders and getting down on my knees again, trying to wrap my bra around your fucking neck to choke you lightly.
Jennifer:
My world is spinning because I am spinning — up and over and then hard to the floor on my back. A back on which I squirm in pain, as you chase after me. Dropping to your knees. Pulling off your torn blouse and bra, and then draping it around my neck to try and choke me.
But I can’t let that happen — can’t let you steal my oxygen and strength this early or ever. And so as you drop your lacy undergarment over my head, even in my state of confusion and pain, I grab it. Quickly sit up. And then yank it forward hard, and in doing so, pull you forward. Your body and tits crashing against my back, as your head leans over my shoulder.
My head twisting towards your face, as I open my jaw and latch my teeth into your effort-warmed cheek. A bite I keep as I lift and turn into you, throwing my body atop yours as I send us back to my floor.
Mercedes:
Owwwwwwww! Fffffffkkkkkkkk! Oh my god I think to myself as my body gets yanked forward, followed by biting on my cheek – it hurts and stings and then I’m forced to rise up with you less ink my face being torn and bloodied. Then you pounce, pressing your body and tits, behind a shirt albeit, into my own and fall backwards on my back to the floor. Realizing the momentum has shifted, I go to defend my face by trying to grab at your scalp and get one hand near my face, my breasts rising as my arms move up above my body and head. I try to work my legs around your hips and torso to defend myself from your alpha at the moment position, tearing the seem on my blouse completely and rising the fabric up around my hips and waist, my panties now visible from all sides.
Jennifer:
I don’t have you have secured or subdued, in fact my dive upon you only locks us back into the struggle. Into the madness that is a fight between women such as us. And though there is uncertainty in it. Risk and danger — malice and rage, I love it. Every second of it.
Even as your blouse kicks up, your legs raise, and then wrap around my abdomen. Going stiff, and locking at the ankle behind me in a tight leg scissor. A hold that makes me groan out in pain, my bite releasing and my body falling off of you and to your side.
Mercedes:
I hear your grunt and pump my legs again, holding the squeeze and feeling relief as your mouth comes off my cheeks, I feel the stinging from the aftermath. My hand still in your hair, I try to curl my fingers wrist and then elbow to wrench your neck upwards towards the ceiling, my other hand pressing your face upwards before working down and trying to find the bottom of my mans shirt, which cover your precious tits….tits I’m planning on giving a serious work over on unless you get free…but with my sexy legs around you…not likley!
Jennifer:
With your tattooed legs coiled around me and squeezing so tight I can barely breathe, I am helpless to stop you, when you reach for your boyfriend’s shirt — OUR boyfriend’s shirt and pulling it up and over my head. Exposing my bare tits and upper body. And though you take it from me, as soon as it passes over my eyes, and my hands pull free, I reach both of my hands to your equally exposed breasts and then latch on tight with digging claws. Hoping that by hurting you, I can distract you enough to get free, or at least avoid any further offense until I can figure out another way to accomplish the same.
Mercedes:
I lift off you shirt and see your girls, but in my attempt you still manage to get first strike. Your nails dig in to me and the ferocity of your breast attack on me is legendary. I howl, just HOWL, as your fingers pinch claw and grab my tits in the most cruel way. Instinctively, I latch on to your wrists which only seems to make it hurts worse and my eyes close and lips purse up tightly from the pain. ‘Fuck let go!’ I demand, trying to pump another squeeze, albeit much lower around your hips now, trying to get your hands off my sensitive breasts.
Jennifer:
In an instant I can see, feel, and hear the pain my clawing of your breasts elicits and all of it brings an evil, malicious smile to my face.
“Fuck you, bitch! Our man will be MY man once I’ve ripped these tits off you.” I growl at you. Your legs slipping down my abdomen to my hips. Giving me the confidence to dig my feet into the carpet, find purchase, and then try to drive forward. Hoping to slide further through your leg scissor, and land on top of you. Body to body and breast to breast. Evening the terms of our still nascent war.
Mercedes:
Your dive forward comes as a shock to me, as do your mean, hateful words. My eyes open to see your pleasure in hurting me as you break the scissors, your breasts on mine, but still being grabbed hard but your aggressive fingers and nails, red marks starting to show as my hands fail to pry them off. Our stomachs and crotches now lined up, I try to wedge my thigh in between your legs to turn us slightly and get us to roll towards the side. ‘I fucking hate you Jenn!’ I shout as I try to turn us over, my hands fishing for your hair and my tits literally absorbing everything your doing to them – at great cost…..
Jennifer:
Through your scissors and atop you, I rake and claw at your tits, until finally I release them, letting my body press down into yours. Our rock-hard nipples stabbing into each others tits as I move my hands to your hair, and wrench your head back and forth — left and then right, wanting to hurt you in any way that I can. And as I focus on causing you pain, you raise a leg between mine, plant your foot and turn us. But when you do, I move to counter. Not by stopping our turn, but by deepening it. Sending us into an up and over roll across my apartment.
My legs lifting and wrapping around yours to lock us together, and to keep you from getting away from me.
Mercedes:
Rolling around on the floor, my tits finally released but stinging with severe pain. Red marks, no, welts, are left on them, on the side, bottoms and nipp,es, they hurt to be poked by your firm breasts and perky nipples. We roll sideways but now I find myself locked by your legs. I try to arch out, pressing my knees down to get away but your lock is strong. I fall breast to breast again with you, my face rubbing alongside yours as I ponder my next move. I reach my hands back to try to break the lock while the other stabilizes me, my breasts glistening with sweat and deep red marks already forming what could be cuts from the damage. ‘Fucking little cunt’ I growl at you as I try to work out of the hold.
Jennifer:
Bound as tightly together as we can be, we roll until finally, after one final quarter turn, you stop our momentum, press me down to the floor and then curse at me. A hissed insult I reply to as cruelly as I can. “The cunt who’s stealing your man, you weak little bitch.”
As the words settle in, and your eyes harden, I take the opportunity to wind up my left hand, and then drive it up and around, aiming to slap you across the face and knock you off of me, so that once more I can get back to my feet.
Mercedes:
Shocked by your statement, I pause then get slapped, hard, knocking me off you and onto my side as you stand up. I try to compose myself and get to my hands and knees, feeling the sting in my mouth and I look over at your toplees, panty clad body. I look down again and try to stand back up before you have the opportunity to pounce on me. Rising to my feet I drop my skirt, now just wearing a blue lacy thong, hair a mess and tits bright red, body heaving, pulling my hair back and letting out a very deep breath…’FUCK YOU’. As I look at your body and compare it to mine in my head, just wanting to hurt you very bad for being such a bitch to me at work, love life and this fight.
Jennifer:
My slap works in knocking you off of me, and letting me roll away from you. My abdomen still hurting. My scalp in pain from you pulling my hair. My back aching from that beautiful monkey flip of yours. And yet still, as you stand, drop your skirt, and then look at my near naked body I want to drive us deeper and take from you the last fabric covering your skin.
“Give me those fucking panties, Mercedes. I want to see the pussy that’s sharing my man’s cock.” As I speak the demand, I am already in motion. Moving towards you and reaching to rip down your lacy blue thong.
Mercedes:
I turn slightly away as you rush towards me, offering my hips instead of my pussy for you awaiting hands, eager to strip and tear my panties to show off my gorgeous pussy. Your hands get hip fabric, and I hear the tearing, reciprocating, I grab the side and back of your panties and jerk Violently upwards, trying to wedgie and hurt but also tear and expose. ‘How do you like that bitch!’ I shout over tearing fabric sounds, mixed with heavy breathing and bodies thudding.
Jennifer:
Together on our feet, we tear and rip at each others panties. Me working yours down and you prying mine up and between my thick Latina thighs and puffy, moist pussy lips. Until finally, as we awkwardly stumble together, flesh bouncing off flesh once and then again, my panties tear off and yours pull down to your ankles.
Then, as you step out of them, I glare at you. My fingers on each hand curled into ready claws as I almost growl. “Nothing to protect you now, cunt….”
Mercedes:
‘Don’t you fucking dare!’ I shout, knowing you are going to go for my pussy like some crazed bitch. I brace myself, preparing for your raged attack but have a plan of my own. I eye you, watching your flat stomach and perky tits, waiting for a signal that they are going to lunge, watching your abs twitch as your start to move, i step forward towards you, grasping at both of your tits and trying to pull and spin me and your body by your breasts so that I am in control of your momentum, working to send you reeling into a wall of piece of furniture. ‘Bring it bitch!’ I scream as I go on the attack!
Jennifer:
I’m coming for you. For that sexy, little pussy of yours. To dig my claws into it. To rip your lips apart with driving fingers and drag my nails over your sensitive pink walls. But as I move forward like a stalking predator, you move first. Latching your claws into my tits, just as I had done to yours before, and then with that grip you spin. Pulling me as I cry out in pain, and throwing me by the breasts into the nearby couch.
Furniture on which I fall into a sit. My eyes moving up to find you just before you’re on top of me.
Mercedes:
‘How do your TITS feel huh?’ I taunt as you fall into the couch, knowing I hurt you pretty badly, just as bad as you hurt me. I don’t wait and come after you right after my throw of your body by your breasts, but rather than go for your tits, I go for your face with one hand, trying to grab and scratch at it, while taking my more dominant right hand towards your sensitive Latina pussy, looking for the labia with my hands to sour and scratch up your little bitch pussy!
Jennifer:
I don’t have time to stand. Don’t have time to move out of the way. Instead I have no choice but just remain as you come for me. Latching the claws of your left hand into my cheeks and your right into my sex. Attacks I mirror, as I too dig the claws on my right hand into your soft cheek, and then those on my left into your precious kitten. Each of us stabbing, pinching, pulling and prying at the sex with which we compete, even as we drag talons down each others face. Red ravines opening, as my tits continue to ache. They, now, being just as damaged as yours.
Mercedes:
I feel my sex being ripped at as my face gets scratched, Tears begin to fill my eyes as my body has taken a beating like never before, but I don’t give up. Not yet at least. I curl my fingers latched on your kitty and pry the outside of your labia, scratching the most sensitive skin your body has, while pulling and tugging to open up your sex for another hand attack as my hand leaves your face for a hard pinch and twist attempt of your inner pussy, feelingbthe wetness and softness and sexiness all at the same time, screams filling the air with oowwww, let’s go’s, crying noises, whimpers and pain screams. “Fucking bitch I’m going to pull your pussy right off you!’
Jennifer:
Each of us leave a wound on the other’s face. One we will see in the mirror for weeks. But as seconds pass of us both screaming, yelping, and crying tears of agony for each other. We begin to focus. All of our energy on attacking each others pussy. Our face-clawing hands moving to join in on the offense we inflict between each others legs.
One hand holding lips open, while the other dives in and then stabs with nails. Those nails then dragging down as we each sob for each other. “I hate you, Mercedes! I HATE YOU!” I cry out between heaves of chest and reinsertion of dagger-tipped nails.
Neither of us thinking of defense, only destroying the pussy who shares our man’s cock.
Mercedes:
Your pussy and my pussy are being destroyed. My makeup now runs down my face as my pussy is tortured, mauled, fingered, poked, hit, scratched and grabbed. Your pussy begins to gain some defense from the couch as the fabric and your sliding back begins to wedge my hand out and I lose partial grip, your labia pulling with my hand. I try to throttle my legs over yours, pressing my tits into your neck and face while mauling your lips and getting mauled myself. ‘Give it up, bitch!’ I scream as I pull and twist on your lips as you do mine, my naked body pressed all up into yours as I scream at you.
Jennifer:
I can barely take it. Barely stand it. The pain of having my pussy ripped at and gouged in such a violent way. And though as you scream at me to give up, I refuse. Knowing that you are in just as much as pain as I am.
Despite that knowledge, I have to end it. Have to stop it. And to do that, I plant my feet beneath you, even as you straddle my lap. Then, with that foothold, I release my hold of your pussy, wrap my arms around you, and then try to drive myself forward, into you, and then throw us off the couch to the floor. It being a risky gambit, as if I can’t, push us both down to the floor, we will fall back to the couch with me at your mercy.
Mercedes:
I feel you release the grip. My pussy throbs with pain and pulses sting like I’ve never felt. Suddenly though your arms bolt around me and you lunge forward, my 5’4 118lb frame moving backwards off the couch and a nasty fall where my back and back of my head hit the ground hard despite the soft rug. My hands release from your vagina as I lay hurt on my back with my mouth open, breathing heavy, tits heaving in perfect glory, sweaty, gouged, reddened tits and pussy exposed to the air as I try to make sense of what happened, looking up at the couch as you come towards me, immediately put my hands to my pussy in defense, popping up my huge tits and sore nipples towards the sky. ‘Nooooo!’ I shout.
Jennifer:
I’m winded. Wounded and still crying, my tears dripping onto your sweaty, heaving tits when we land. And yet I move to take back control.
When I do, you reach both your hands for your sex, certain I will attack again. Wanting to rid the world of the only pussy with whom I must compete. And yet, as you cry out no, I continue forward. Lifting up to my feet for only a second and then dropping to my knees. They coming down on carpet on either side of your head, as suddenly I plant my thick, juicy ass over your face. The tops of my feet and toes hooking under your armpits, as I press my hands to my thighs. “Yes, bitch….” I respond with an evil smirk.
Mercedes:
Mmmpppfffff! I squirm and struggle as you plant your hot, mauled, sweaty, wet crotch and ass directly on my face, my arms pinned. You facesit me with confidence I’ve never seen before – it’s so fucking sexy – my legs trash for a few moments before I realize I’m done for. I muffled screams into your pussy and ass as your womanhood and best parts of your body from the neck down cover my face and take away my oxygen. I kick a few more times before stomping my foot hoping you get that I’m done. Mmmppppffffffrrrrrfffftttp as your pussy is all over my mouth!
Jennifer:
You’re a scary, cruel, Ice queen of a bitch, but finally I have you. Pinned beneath me and my healthy, Latina ass. My wounded kitten, sliding back, and then over your mouth and nose. Leaving you no air to breathe, but that which is inside of me. Your nose pressing hard against my clit, as on instinct alone I begin to thrust myself forward and then drag myself back. Every stroke hurting so bad, I can’t keep the tears from falling. But punishing you is more important.
Dominating you is worth it.
The woman who’s boyfriend I fucked for over a year. The woman who I had worked to get fired behind the scenes for just as long.
And through through those first few strokes of my river-wet sex over your face you kick and stomp. Eventually you stop, not because you have passed out but because you know I have you and that I have won.
And though you soften and wilt, like the colorful flower you are, there I keep you. Beneath me and suffering. Beneath me and suffocating. Lifting my thick, wet bottom from your gasping mouth, sniffling nose, and tear-shedding eyes only long enough to let you sip at the air.
Air that tastes and smells like my oppressive and smothering pussy. Like the sex of your conquerer. The villainess of your story.
The woman who got you fired. Took your man. And now, in your weakness and subjugation, shall claim you as her slave.
The End