By Request

[Clouseau]

                   Mistress in Residence


                            by


                         Felix Gato


Eric Arrow sat at the expensive, white wrought‑iron lawn table that adorned the largest of the three redwood decks that surrounded his sumptuous vacation house on the northern
Pacific coast.  A tall, distinguished and athletic man in his late thirties, he was having coffee this fine morning, savoring the salt air, the sun, and the superb view of the sea.  For a few moments, he idly followed the progress of a large tanker near the horizon, then turned his attention back to the personal ad he was reading in one of the steamier L.A. sex papers.  He smiled to himself.  The reason this ad so held his interest is that the ad was his!

Eric had been placing very special personal ads in the major California sex newspapers for nearly two years now.  The language he used was subtle but provocative, and the money he
offered was sufficiently generous that he always received a steady supply of respondents.

Eric Arrow, it seems, had a great fondness for catfights, for watching young women fight, and he had devised a system to provide himself with a steady stream of varied and spirited
combatants for his personal enjoyment.

His system was this: he would arrange, via the ads, for one young woman to come live with him for a time at his northern California estate.  He would expansively pronounce her his
"Mistress in Residence" and pay her generously for her services.  However, during her tenure, he would continue (with her full knowledge) to advertise for her replacement!  When a promising candidate presented herself, Eric would interview her.  If the first interview went to his liking, the newcomer would be invited to return a week later for a second one.

He had two requirements of each candidate: first, she had to be naturally submissive and fond of S&M games.  She had to agree to become his live‑in sexual playmate and freely engage
in S&M‑oriented sex.  He explained that, for these services, she would be very generously compensated, and enjoy a life of real luxury.  That was the easy part.  There were many young women eager to trade their bodies for a shot at a life of leisure, even if (and sometimes because!) kinky sex was part of the arrangement.

The second requirement was more demanding, and separated the casual applicant from the women he really sought.  He insisted that his live‑in playmate fully participate in the
interviewing, screening and "testing" of her replacement! This seemed bizarre until he explained further.

The return interview for potentially successful applicants was always conducted by the current Mistress, with Eric present.  That's when the fun always really began, because the only real purpose for the return visit was to carefully explain to the eager new applicant the process by which she might obtain the position.

The current Mistress would explain that, to successfully replace her, the newcomer would have to engage her in a no‑holds‑barred, anything‑goes catfight.  If the new applicant
won, she would become the new Mistress and the current one would be retired.  If the applicant lost, she would be given a generous sum of money for her troubles (and scratches and bruises!) and be sent on her way.

If, once she was told all this the new applicant was still interested, arrangements for the upcoming catfight would be discussed by all three, with Eric having final say on all
particulars.

The incumbent Mistress always had a decided interest in participating in these catfights.  Eric would pay her a large cash bonus above and beyond her regular retainer for every fight she engaged in.  And to make the reward more exciting and immediate, he always paid it while the sweat and blood of her opponent was still fresh on her body.  She had only to win...

Eric knew that to find women who would agree to such an arrangement was difficult, but he was interested in only those.  He found that those women who were turned on and intrigued by his offer were invariably hotter and more exciting than any others he had ever met.

Now, as a fresh breeze blew in off the sunny Pacific, Eric glanced down at his expensive watch and set down his paper. His latest candidate would soon be arriving!  He poured
himself a last cup of excellent coffee and sat back to wait for her.


                  * * * * * * * * * * *

[Clouseau]

After only a short wait, the doorbell rang and Eric rose to answer it.  After exchanging greetings and a few pleasantries, Eric showed his new arrival to his study.
Candy Drapper, the latest potential new Mistress, had just flown in from L.A.  A ravishing Hollywood actress‑turned‑call‑girl, the 22‑year old, 5'4" redhead was endowed with the
kind of body for which southern California girls are justly famous the world over.

She had explained to Eric during their first interview that she'd seen Eric's ad in the paper and been intrigued by its veiled language and suggestions of large sums of money.  She further allowed that she was growing bored with the L.A. scene and thought a gig (especially a kinky one!) in the San Francisco Bay area might hold new thrills.  In this, she would prove prophetic!

Now, in Eric's sumptuous study, she sat easily in the white leather chair to which Eric had shown her.  Her long, curly red hair hung to nearly the middle of her back.  The teal silk minidress she wore only accentuated her exquisite body, and her black patent‑leather high heels set off her long legs fabulously.  Eric was genuinely impressed.  Which was just what she intended...

This was the second interview.  Eric had flown her up from L.A. the first time a week ago, and had been immediately interested.  He had very much liked what he'd seen (and
sampled ‑ he could not remember a softer mouth around his cock, or a more pneumatic blow job, in his life!).  Christ ‑ the girl was awesome!  Now he was eager to see how she
reacted when his current Mistress presented her the remaining details of the offer...

As if in answer to his thoughts, Genevieve Dumas made one of her customary, dramatic entrances through a side door to the study.  A 19‑year old French blonde, she was devastatingly beautiful and obviously well aware of it.  She was elegantly clad in an expensive designer outfit consisting of a short red leather skirt, matching jacket, a black silk blouse flirtatiously buttoned just a bit too low, and seamed black hose.  Beneath the luxurious silk fabric flirted a pair of sumptuous breasts.  Spiked red leather heels completed her outfit.

The blonde walked self‑assuredly to a large white leather couch across from the new applicant and sat down gracefully. Her short red leather skirt did little to hide her obviously muscular, stocking‑clad thighs.  She brushed back a strand of long, curly blonde hair from her face, and turned to her guest.

"Eric has shared with me that he likes you.  A lot..." she opened.  The smile that crossed Candy's face said "I know" silently but eloquently.  Genevieve decided to let that pass.
"As you know," the blonde continued, "the arrangement at our house is a little ‑ unusual..."  She watched for signs of a reaction.  She saw only curiosity.  "In fact, to be very clear, Eric insists that there be only one Mistress in residence at any given time."  She continued to watch her possible rival.  "And you should know that I am the current Mistress..." she finished.

This had an effect.  Genevieve noticed with satisfaction that Candy involuntarily drew herself up a little straighter in her chair, and became more alert.  As discreetly as possible, the redhead was now looking her interviewer over with renewed interest.  So this was not just some member of Eric's staff she was dealing with!

"You should also know that Eric..." she paused, turned towards him and flashed him an adoring smile, "is very fond of watching women fight..."

The sexy blonde let her voice trail off.  At this, one of Candy's eyebrows arched perceptibly.  Genevieve noted this and continued.  "He runs these ads and arranges these interviews to find women who will indulge him in his favorite 'spectator sport'".  No reaction.  "So the real reason for this second interview is to explain to you that, if you want the position of Mistress in Residence‑"

"I'll have to fight you for it!"  Candy smiled as she finished her blonde interviewer's sentence for her.

"Exactly."  Genevieve was gratified that Candy seemed unconcerned.  Maybe this redhead would agree to the terms, and then there would be a fight.  Maybe tonight!  Then Genevieve would pick up the ten thousand dollar bonus Eric had promised her.  Of course, losing the catfight never entered her mind...

The stunning call girl looked over at Eric, then back at Genevieve.  "This sounds like a beehive, with one too many queen bees.  And you know how bees select a new Queen..."

Eric reflected a moment on the imagery his new applicant had used.  He thought of the extraordinarily vicious fights the small female insects engaged in for supremacy of their hives,
then spoke up.  "That's a very good analogy" he said softly. "Perfect, in fact..."

Candy looked at Eric engagingly, then continued, warming now to her theme. "So if I agree to this, and win the fight..."  Her tone was interested, curious, not at all concerned.  Eric
quickly interjected an answer to her incomplete question.

"You become the new Mistress in Residence.  Genevieve‑" he looked warily towards his ravishing French blonde, "gets to pack her bags and leave within 24 hours.  Unless you want her to stay awhile, to use as your sex slave..." he added, smiling lasciviously.

"So what kind of fight do we have to have?" Candy continued curiously, looking Genevieve over with ever growing interest. The redhead seemed genuinely unconcerned.  "Do you have
special outfits you want us to wear?  Do you have special fighting rules you want us to follow?  Are there special things you want us to do to each other?"

Spoken like a pro, Eric thought, delighted. Find out what the customer wants, and be sure he gets it.  Lots of it!  Candy seemed to understand exactly what was being offered and further, seemed very eager to please him.  Eric liked that in a woman.  He looked at her evenly and explained further.

"If you agree, you and Genevieve will fight for me with no rules and for no set length of time.  I will be present to watch, of course, but will not interfere in any way.  You will be free to do to anything you like to one another.  You can bite, scratch, kick ‑ anything at all.  You will continue to fight until you are both satisfied.  This point is most important.  It means that, even if one of you chooses to give up, the other is perfectly within her rights to continue fighting..."

"So giving up doesn't buy you anything..." Candy interrupted, immediately understanding the strategy.  "You might as well keep fighting as long as you can!"

"Exactly..." smiled Eric.

The L.A. call girl smiled to herself, a wicked little smile this time, and she seemed to come to a decision.  Before she spoke, she re‑crossed her delicious legs, allowing the teal silk hemline to rise high up her solid and shapely thighs. The body‑language challenge to the blonde Mistress was subtle but definite.  She turned in her chair to directly face Genevieve.  "So when do we schedule this little 'event'?" she asked purposefully.

Genevieve was by now expecting this.  She smiled at Eric, then turned to her self‑annointed rival.  "If you accept the challenge, we will together decide an arrangement pleasing to Eric..."

Candy barely shrugged her creamy, bare shoulders in a delightful display of insouciance, and one of her silk spaghetti straps slid delightfully down her arm to partially expose a gorgeous breast.

"Oh, of course I agree!" she exclaimed impatiently, coyly rearranging the skinny dress strap while holding Genevieve's eyes with her own.  She looked around the large, sumptuous study, noting especially the deep carpeting.  "If we move some of this furniture out of the way, we should have enough room right here...  So how about it ‑ right here, right now?"  She started to rise from her chair.

"Whoa!" said Eric, amused, as he raised his hand to restrain the eager redhead. "I admire your enthusiasm, but I don't want you two to engage in a common brawl.  Please, sit a moment." He directed her to her chair with his hand.  Candy, slightly put off, returned to her white leather chair but did not relax.  She seemed a coiled snake, ready to strike.

Eric returned to his own chair and contemplated both young women a few moments.  After some reflection, a smile crossed his face and he announced, "I will allow the Mistress an
opinion."  He turned to Genevieve.  "The Japanese soaking tub off the master bedroom ‑ would you like to fight Candy in THERE?"

Genevieve looked at him devilishly and smiled racily.  She could always trust him to think of outrageous settings for her fights!

"Ooo ‑all that HOT water to make your skin red ‑even BEFORE it gets scratched!  I think I'd like that...  And we'd get all hot and sweaty and EXCITED!" she purred.

She brought up one shapely, stocking‑clad leg to dangle a spiked‑heel, red leather pump.  She looked up at Eric with puppy eyes and feigned distress.  "Every time I fight in the water, I ruin my shoes..." she pouted seductively.

"I'll buy you a hundred more pairs, darling!" Eric replied laughingly, enjoying her teasing.

Eric then turned to Candy. "Very well.  Since you've accepted the challenge, the two of you will fight for me tonight in the soaking tub."  He paused a moment to let his words sink in, then continued.  "I have a room upstairs prepared for you.  You will find in it everything you might desire to outfit yourself for the fight.  It's 4:30 now ‑be prepared to fight at seven!" His tone did not admit to negotiation.

The redhead smiled, looked seductively at Eric, and answered easily.  "Thank you. I will not disappoint you!"

She then turned towards the blonde.  "If you will show me to my room..." she said haughtily.


                    * * * * * * * * * *

Genevieve showed Candy to her room without incident.  The L.A. call girl had entered it quickly, closed the door behind her and locked it.  She took a few moments to carefully study
her new surroundings.  The suite Eric had arranged for her was sumptuous in every detail, and she would soon discover no expense had been spared to furnish its large closets with
every possible sexy undergarment and footwear she might desire.  She took it all in, and decided she was going to like it here!  She peeked into the closets and chests of drawers, spying dazzling arrays of garments of the finest quality and fabrics, everything in her size.

On a large and comfortable vanity by one wall was arranged a small collection of costly perfumes and cosmetics, as well as a vase of freshly‑cut, long‑stemmed red roses.  Affixed to
the green glass was a little handwritten note.  "Welcome!" it started.  "Everything here is for your use.  Should you win the fight, it will be yours to keep!"  The note ended with the admonishment "Fight well!" and "Good Luck!"  It was signed simply "Eric".

The redhead kicked off her black spiked heels and slid her little teal silk dress from her awesome body.  She walked over, nude save for a black silk thong, to the large bed in the center of the room and fell easily onto it.  She didn't have to prepare for the fight for several hours, she thought, and she might just as well rest up awhile.  She propped her head up on a fluffy pillow, reclined with her arms behind her head and reflected anew on the unusual and bizarre offer she had just been made.

Everything about it spoke of money, certainly more than she had been seeing in L.A. working the businessmen's hotels and convention travellers.  Resolutely, she decided she wanted
IN!  She didn't know much about the beautiful young blonde she would have to face tonight, but she decided now that she wouldn't let that French bitch get in the way of her winning
all this!

Candy was sure this was the best thing she'd ever walked into, and if the price of admission was a little face‑and-tit scratching then hey! ‑ let the games begin!  The sooner they got down to it, the sooner she'd kick that blonde bitch's ass and take her place!

The determined redhead grew pensive. It wasn't as if she'd never fought with women before.  She had been involved in her share of rough and tumble catfights back there in the mean
streets and alleys of L.A., before she had moved up to a higher‑priced and more sophisticated clientele.  And she had won most of those fights.  She knew herself to be a vicious,
aggressive little fighter who knew how to get it on, how to rock and roll!  She could fight as dirty as any street cat, and she was in excellent physical shape to boot!  Satisfied
with her assessment, and feeling a little smug, she rolled over to enjoy a short nap.

                    * * * * * * * * * * *

[Clouseau]

After she had shown Candy to her appointed room, Genevieve had returned to the downstairs study.  Eric was still there waiting for her, now seated on the white leather couch.

"This could be a very tough fight..."  he opened as she gracefully eased herself down beside him.  "She seems very strong and aggressive.  Do you think you can take her?"

Genevieve stretched into his lap like a cat, her short red leather skirt rising high on her luscious thighs.  Her long blonde hair fell from her head and around his hips as she
reached for his zipper with her superbly‑manicured fingers.

"Don't even THINK about HER..." she purred as she found what she was looking for and greedily encircled it with a delicate and well‑manicured hand.  She parted her full red lips, then briefly met his dark blue eyes with hers before taking his already‑hard cock into her mouth.

"I'm going to fight for you, my Master!", she said softly but with complete conviction. "I'm going to fight for you like I've never fought for you before.  No cheap L.A. hooker is going to take this delicious cock away from ME!"

And with that, she slid her lush, red painted lips over his rigid cock and eased him completely into her mouth.  Eric lay back, reclining in deep contentment.  Life could be good
indeed...

                     * * * * * * * * *

Six o'clock!  Candy awoke from her nap, responding to her luxuriously on the large bed.  It was time to think about preparing herself for the upcoming contest. So ‑what to wear to the party?

She let her mind wander excitedly around the question as she enjoyed a hot, brief shower.  She then dried herself quickly, and shook out the mass of long red curls she had previously
carefully wrapped in a fluffy oversized towel.

Genuinely excited by the task of assembling an outrageous fighting outfit from the huge number of choices available to her, she bounded easily to the wall closet and slid open the
mirrored door.  She silently shook her head in near disbelief.  There had to be thousands of dollars worth of clothing in there!

Underwear sets ‑bras, panties, garterbelts, all carefully matched and displayed on colored hangers, just the way they were at expensive lingerie shops. Lace teddies. Silk Merry
Widows. Satin bras and panties.  Tough leather outfits, some with chains. Underthings every color of the rainbow! Long opera gloves, and short lacy ones. Shoes with high heels
and ankle straps, racy sandals, thigh‑high leather boots... And everything in her size!  She could dress as OUTRAGEOUSLY as she liked.  Wow!

And, she thought, all this would become hers ‑if she won the fight!  She was now more determined than ever.  She would do whatever it took to dislodge the blonde incumbent and earn for herself this life of ease and luxury!

The young redhead applied herself now to remembering little details about the discussion the three of them had had earlier.  She recalled Genevieve's provocative little comment
about ruining her shoes in the water ‑ so it was obvious that Eric liked his women in high heels, even (or maybe especially!) in the tub.  Hey, if that's what the man liked, she was only too happy to oblige!

What else?  She wanted a look that was outrageously sexy for Eric, of course, but also something that would serve to intimidate her rival.  That meant an outfit that suggested
toughness, she decided.  Black, maybe.  Where were those black leather things she had spotted before?  She rummaged through the racks.  God, there was SO MUCH stuff in here, she thought.  She picked up a slinky, black lace catsuit, held it at arm's length a moment, then returned it to the shelf.  No. She wanted to show more skin than the catsuit allowed, she
decided...

What about this?  She pushed aside several satin babydolls and uncovered a silk‑covered clothes hanger on which was hung a tiny, black leather thong bikini, a matching silver‑studded collar, and short black leather gloves with the fingers cut out.  Perfect!

She grabbed the outfit from the rack, and moved to the many racks of shoes and boots.  The choice here was equally difficult because so many sexy things caught her eye, but in the end she decided upon a pair of wicked, stiletto‑heeled black leather ankle boots with leather laces. Oh, yes!  This would do very well...

Stockings?  She thought a moment.  There was certainly a large selection from which to choose, more colors and patterns than she had ever seen.  But stockings meant a garterbelt, too, and she wanted to appear as naked and unprotected as possible, even while wearing SOMETHING.  The defiance effect alone would be worth it, though she'd probably pay by receiving more scratches later.  No matter. It was a delicate balance, but showing as much skin as possible was more dramatic.  She decided against.

She took her treasures to the vanity, eased her gorgeous nude form lightly onto the tufted bench, and started to dress.  She slipped the tiny black leather thong up her legs, then eased it onto her shapely hips, noting how its very high cut made her superb legs seem even longer than they already were.  The slender  strip of buttery soft black leather barely covered her luxurious red bush, and her creamy ass cheeks not at all.

She leaned over, dropping her head down to shake loose her delicate neck the black studded leather choker.  Sitting up, she next slid her pretty, delicate feet into the short, black leather ankle boots, fastening the leather laces securely. She then picked up and slid over her long, shapely fingers the small, black leather gloves.  She wriggled her exposed fingers and long red fingernails as she smoothed the black leather into place.  She clawed her hands menacingly, observed the effect, and smiled to herself.  She couldn't wait now to use those talons on that blonde French bitch!

Now she reached into a drawer in which was arranged several layers of good jewelry.  She impulsively scooped up a pair of large silver hoop earrings and a clutch of thin silver
bracelets.  She quickly put those on, then reached for a glass perfume bottle stopper.  Generously, she applied the expensive fragrance to the delicious, deep valley between her
large, uplifted breasts.  Finally, she picked up a pearl‑handled brush and carefully combed out her full mane of curly red hair. It was 6:55.

She walked back across the room, stopping in front of the full‑length closet mirror to admire herself.  She was stunning.  Perched high on the black, stiletto‑heeled ankle boots that tightly hugged her slim ankles, she was pleased with the tiny black leather thong that hugged her shapely hips and just covered her trimmed red bush.  She noted with satisfaction the black leather choker clasped securely around her graceful neck, the short, black leather gloves that
allowed her long, red nails to protrude menacingly, the large silver earrings, the silver bracelets at her delicate wrist...

She was ready.  She strode purposefully to the opposite end of the large room and opened the door that gave onto the master suite.

                  * * * * * * * * * * * *

[Clouseau]

After Genevieve had thoroughly satisfied a very aroused Eric on the smooth white leather couch, and then happily received a facial of delicious warm cum, she had been instructed to
repair to her own quarters to reflect on the upcoming contest and imminent challenge to her authority.

She knew that Candy was a strong, well‑built girl, and apparently fearless to boot.  Well, she smiled to herself, she was equally strong and equally well‑built, and she had the advantage.  It was HER house and HER Master she was fighting for.

She also took comfort in thinking of the last fight, when she had been challenged by, taken on, and beaten, a fiery Puerto Rican girl in a bloody two‑hour cage fight down in the basement.  She knew herself to be a ferocious and tireless fighter, and she did NOT want to lose this position!

Ensconced now in her own quarters, she drew a hot bubble bath in the sumptuous, black marble, step‑up tub eased herself in gently.  She soaked a long time, reading and listening to
music.  At one point, she reflected on the irony of preparing for a fight in hot water by bathing in hot water, then dismissed the thought.  Instead, she turned her attention to what she would wear for the contest.

Genevieve had an incredible body that looked fabulous in just about anything.  Still, tonight had to be special!  She was the current Mistress in Residence, after all, and she was
fighting for Eric, her lover.  Not just any outfit would do...

She didn't know what kind of outfit that cheap L.A. hooker would put together, of course ‑that was part of the game that Eric so enjoyed.  When the combatants entered the designated
fighting area, they would surprise Eric as well as each other with their daring and creativity.

She had a feeling the redhead bitch would wear black tonight, or maybe green or blue.  She grudgingly admitted to herself that the teal dress Candy had worn earlier had been
devastatingly effective paired with her long, red curls...

She would wear red, then.  Pulse‑racing red.  The color of passion, the universal signal of danger, of violence.  The color of blood.  It would telegraph Genevieve's intentions
with force.  Yes, red.  But what?  She wanted to surprise Eric.  She wanted something really exotic, something that would at once turn him on and issue a clear challenge to her rival.  She wanted it to communicate forcefully that she was not shying away from her rival, hiding behind her outfit.  It would have to be arrogant and bold and daring.  She thought a moment.  Wait...  She knew just the thing...

Genevieve rose from her bath, dried off carefully, then wrapped her long blonde hair in a large, rose‑colored towel. She powdered herself, put on a short silk robe, walked to her huge closet, and slid open the door.  She pulled open a drawer and retrieved a pair of butter‑soft, opera‑length red leather gloves.  Of course, these had the fingers cut out to allow long manicured nails to protrude.  Next, she then moved to a nearby rack and selected a pair of thigh‑high red leather boots.  They sported nearly 6‑inch heels.  She smiled to herself and walked with her treasures to the bed in the center of the room.

She sat on the edge of the bed and slid her long, shapely legs into the boots, smoothing the leather that rose up to over most of her thighs.  She next slid her delicate arms into the long, red leather gloves, pushing them all the way up, nearly to her armpits.  She smoothed the leather around her fingers, making sure she could claw her hands in complete freedom.  THAT was essential for tonight, wasn't it?  She took a moment to admire the long fingernails she had just had freshly manicured.  Those nails were going to busy tonight... She smiled wickedly, arose from the bed and walked over to her vanity.

She sat down and quickly dried her long blonde hair.  Next, she expertly applied bold eye makeup and her deepest shade of red lipstick. She then selected a long, heav y, hooped gold
chain from a drawer and fastened it wantonly around her slim waist, allowing perhaps six inches to dangle provocatively. Finally, she selected matching long, dangling gold earrings
and attached them securely to her small earlobes.  She was ready.

She got up, shook out her long blonde mane and headed for her own entrance to the master suite ‑where awaited a Japanese soaking tub, her Master and a rival eager for combat!

Punctuality was a virtue with Eric, and he was gratified to see the doors from both Candy's and Genevieve's dressing rooms open nearly simultaneously.  The girls came into the large suite, closed the doors behind them, and stood in front of their respective entrances.  Eagerly, they presented themselves to Eric and each other.

Candy put her gloved hands to her curvaceous hips and struck a defiant pose, one leg bent aggressively forward.  Struck with a sudden idea, she reached up to encase her superb, naked breasts in her gloved hands and silently and haughtily displayed them to Genevieve in a womanly challenge.

The redhead then disdainfully assessed her rival.  She took in the young blonde's thigh‑high red boots, and decided they would later interfere with her scratching Genevieve's thighs.
Too bad!  And the red, opera‑length leather gloves would protect the current Mistress' arms, at least for awhile.  The gold chain hung rakishly from her small waist was a nice touch, she had to admit!  Candy decided that when they'd clinch for some close‑in scratching, she'd have to watch that chain ‑she could break her nails on it!

Candy was also a little taken aback that her defiant blonde opponent had boldly decided not to protect her bush and pussy with so much as a thong.  This Mistress would be someone to
reckon with!

For her part, Genevieve stood with booted legs wide apart, proudly flaunting her exposed blonde bush.  She'd calculated that displaying herself this way, with her most womanly
region blatantly ready for mayhem, would unnerve her opponent.  In this she had been right!

As Genevieve now ran her eyes over Candy's superb, compact body, easily balanced on those high stiletto heels, she noted with satisfaction her rival's selection of short gloves and ankle boots.  The arrogant L.A. call girl would collect long raking scratches on her arms and legs early in the contest ‑ that much was now certain!  Genevieve also noted Candy's studded black leather choker, and wondered how much protection from bites and scratches it would afford her.

Finally, to answer the challenge that Candy had offered her, Genevieve brought up her own gloved hands and proudly cupped and lifted her equally large breasts towards the redhead. Mockingly, the reigning Mistress winked at her opponent.

Eric, meanwhile, had been seated in a large grey leather chair installed by the sunken Japanese tub, watching the two young women as they tried to psych each other out.  He knew
he would have to get things going pretty soon ‑the tension in the air was electric and these girls wanted to get it ON!

He arose from his chair and went to stand by the tub's edge. The circular tub, which was five feet deep and three feet wide, was already filled with warm, bubble‑filled water.  He motioned each girl to approach him.  Silently and quickly they complied, advancing uneasily on their precariously high heels. They stopped when they were both at his side.  He smiled at them both, and wrapped one arm around each of their slim, naked waists.

"As you can see, I've already filled the tub." he began. "You will find there's a submerged ledge around the entire tub, so you can sit comfortably.  When you're both in the tub, the water should rise just to just below your breasts." He stopped a moment, and smiled.  "I hope you will be comfortable..."

"After I've helped you each into the tub, I want you to sit down carefully on the ledge and get accustomed to the water. It is warm, and the bubble bath will make your skin and clothing slippery.  You will let me know when you are ready." He waited to see if they had questions, then continued.

"When you've both indicated you're ready, I will give you the signal to start, and you may begin fighting.  Once you've started your fight, I will not interfere in any way.  You may fight as long as you wish.  You can do anything you like to each other.  When one of you has beaten the other, I will immediately declare her the reigning Mistress in Residence.
The loser will be made to leave.  Any questions?"

Genevieve smiled at him, and pursed her lips playfully. "Since we haven't really brought it up before, I think we should ALL..." and here she fixed Candy with her deep blue eyes "...be clear about something; we're not going to stop the fight for ANYTHING, are we?  I mean, if it should get a little bloody or something..." She let her voice trail off meaningfully.  Candy looked her blonde opponent right in the eye and laughed lightly.

"Sweetie, I won't even consider this fight really STARTED until I have skin from your cheeks under my fingernails!" Candy taunted.  The redhead's green eyes flashed menacingly. "I don't think you really know quite what you're in for..." She brought up her black‑gloved claws menacingly.

Eric looked to Candy admiringly, then leaned over to give her a long, deep kiss, even as he still held Genevieve about the waist in his other arm.  He moved to Candy's delicate ear,
and nuzzled in the perfumed red hair. "Scratch her face off!" he urged the redhead challenger, in a voice he knew perfectly well was loud enough for Genevieve to overhear. Then, in the interests of fairness, (and to add a little more  fuel to the flames of jealousy), he turned and nuzzled into Genevieve's perfumed, blonde mane.  "Claw her eyes out!" he urged as he nipped at her shapely ear and dropped his hand from around her waist to caress her naked ass cheeks.  He could feel her rise a little on her stiletto boot heels to meet his strong, warm hand.  But brusquely, he ended his entreaties and ordered them into the tub.  "First, the reigning Mistress!" he commanded.

Genevieve took hold of his right hand for stability, and gingerly lowered her booted right leg into the warm water. Her 6‑inch heel found the ledge.  Balancing precariously on the stiletto heel, she eased her other leg onto the ledge. Still holding Eric's hand, she carefully extended her right leg again and found the tub floor.  She eased her second leg down, let go of Eric's hand and stood unassisted in the tub.

The warm soapy water was already starting to fill her red leather boots, and she took a moment to get used to the sensation.  She knew they would take a little getting used to in the deep water.  Not that it would matter much once she was seated.  The combatants wouldn't be going very far (indeed, that was the whole idea of fighting in the close, small tub!).  And she knew the high boots would somewhat protect her thighs from the fierce scratching that was surely only moments away...

She nodded to Eric that she was all right, then carefully seated herself on the tub's inner ledge.  She wiped soap suds from her red leather gloves and long red nails, rested her arms casually at the tub's edge, and leaned back easily.  The ends of her long blonde mane were already dangling in the soapy water.  As she leaned back, waiting for her opponent to enter the watery arena, she allowed her large naked breasts to peek through their partial covering of soap suds.  She looked adoringly towards Eric, her Master.  "I'm ready..."she said simply.

Eric turned his attention to Candy.  He took her small, gloved hand in his and assisted her as she equally carefully entered the tub.  She took special delight in flashing her long, shapely legs in front of her rival.  When she was standing without assistance on her precariously high-heeled ankle boots, she coyly made a show of adjusting her tiny black leather thong.  She smoothed some soap from her hips, then sat herself down on the tub ledge, directly opposite
Genevieve.  As Eric had predicted, the water came to rest just below their full breasts.

Candy moved her legs carefully through the warm water to get accustomed to the feeling, then withdrew her gloved hands from the water.  With more than necessary care, she wiped
the soap from her long red nails, preening her talons for Genevieve's benefit.

She looked up coyly at Eric, who had returned to his grey leather chair. "So when do we start?" she purred suggestively.

[Clouseau]

"If you are both ready, you may begin fighting!" Eric announced.  "May the best catfighter win!"  And with that by way of encouragement, he sat back to watch as his two gorgeous hellions, pitted now in their soapy arena, prepared to do battle for him!

Genevieve, as befit the reigning Mistress, acted first.  She smiled a little too sweetly at her rival, then spoke to her.

"Why don't you slide over here, sweetie ‑you're SO FAR WAY over there..."  Her eyes all innocence, she patted a place next to her on the ledge with her gloved left hand.  There was no mistaking the explicit challenge.

Candy immediately stood up.  She ran her clawed hands through her full red mane, then sloshed through the water the short distance to her blonde rival's left side.  Defiantly, she
pressed herself as close as she could to Genevieve, her bare thigh pressing against the blonde's high leather boot.

"That better?" Candy asked mockingly as she turned to face Genevieve.  Her face was becoming flushed with excitement, and her voice had taken on a husky tone. "So now that I'm
here, are you going to tell me why you asked me over?"  She was daring Genevieve to start hostilities.

"No ‑ I'm going to SHOW you why!  I think it's time we got a little better acquainted!" the blonde answered hastily.  As she spoke, she brought up her gloved hands.  As did Candy.

"I was hoping you'd say that!" the redhead replied honestly, and with no further conversation, red and black leather gloves found red and blonde manes. Each combatant grabbed two
generous handfulls and began pulling and yanking in earnest.

They fiercely tore at each other's hair, causing tears of pain to well up in both their eyes.  Their heads were being pulled to and fro, now bent back when one girl's locks were yanked straight down, now close when they pulled hair towards each other.  Once, when they were very close, their pulling and yanking deadlocked, and their faces nearly touching, Candy mockingly asked, "Wanna kiss me, darling?"

"Why not!" breathed Genevieve huskily into her opponent's face.  She leaned forward the remaining distance, met Candy's full lips with her own for just a moment, then bared her
small white teeth and brought them down on her rival's lower lip.  She bit hard.  As Candy screamed in fury, Genevieve was rewarded with the salty taste of warm blood in her mouth.
"Delicious!" she cooed as she quickly drew back her head and turned towards Eric so he could see it was she who had drawn first blood.  He nodded approvingly.  "Good girl!" he
exclaimed.  "Make her bloody!"

Candy was furious that Genevieve had taken the psychological advantage, and was eager to contest it.  She realized also that this fight was going to be a little rough.  Actually, she was glad.  She suddenly decided she didn't like the little French blonde at all, and that it was time to play a little rough herself in the small tub.  This was not business, now ‑this was personal!

She reached again into Genevieve's blonde tresses, grabbed two solid handfulls, and using those, pulled the blonde's face once more to her own.  "Like the song says, dearie, we've only just begun!"

So saying, Candy brought her already bloodied lip to Genevieve's mouth, gave her a brazen, wet kiss, then brought her own teeth to the blonde's lower lip and bit her in kind.

Holding Genevieve's head in place with a death grip on her blonde tresses, Candy chewed viciously on her rival's mouth and was not satisfied until she too tasted her rival's blood
in her mouth.  Now Candy felt better!  If they were going to fight in the tub like this, a long and painful war of liberal punishment, she would see to it they stayed even.  Until she edged ahead and won, she reminded herself...

With each fighter now happy she had bloodied the other, the hairpulling and mouth biting contest continued with renewed gusto.  The opponents' near‑naked bodies sloshed around the
tub and splashed water onto the tile floor.  More than once Eric received water on his trousers.  He seemed entirely oblivious to it, transfixed as he was with his hellcats fighting over him.

Again and again, one or the other of the girls would yelp loudly in pain, draw back her bleeding lips for a moment, then brazenly return them to the fray.  They bit and bit at each other's lips, and made them bleed freely.  They glared at each other while nose‑to‑nose, all the while tearing and pulling and yanking each other's hair with all their might. Their duel so far had left them seated next to one another on the tub ledge.

Eager to escalate the fighting, Genevieve released the hold her right hand had on Candy's red curls and reached her glove‑clad arm around to hook her rival's neck.  She pulled her rival to her by the neck, bringing her very close, almost cheek‑to‑cheek, then released her remaining handfull of red hair, clawed her hand and brought her long nails down across her rival's wet and naked breasts.  Before Candy had time to react, the blonde had managed an attack of three or four swipes across both breasts, and already red welts had started to appear.

"Bitch!" Candy screamed and, even as she cried out in pain, immediately responded in kind.  She threw her left arm around Genevieve's head, and brought her own clawed right hand to
the blonde's large, uplifted breasts.  Candy was a little surprised that her blonde opponent seemingly made no effort to protect herself.  It was as if Genevieve was simply chosing to ignore the attack, and the pain, and concentrating instead on inflicting punishment on her challenger.

The magnificent young fighters held each other close in the warm soapy water, and even locked their adjacent legs together for greater leverage.  Genevieve and Candy wanted to
be close, close so that their fighting would be hotter.  They could see the sweat pour from each other's bodies, and watch to their considerable satisfaction their rival's originally
perfectly coiffed hair now becoming a matted mess from all the yanking, pulling, water and perspiration.

The eager contestants showed little regard for their own safety and protection ‑they seemed happy just to continued reaching out with gloved claws and savagely raking each other's breasts.  Each girl sported many red welts and long bleeding scratches across her chest, and both were crying. They could feel their tears commingle where their cheeks touched, and they could feel their hot, ragged breathing in each other's faces.

Candy now decided to up the ante again. "Here, see if you like THIS!" she offered fiercely.  As she taunted her opponent, she brought the long fingernails of her right hand together, clamped them down onto Genevieve's left nipple and sunk all of them in at the base of the erect, rosy protrusion.  Candy squeezed her nails down as hard as she could, trying very hard to break the skin.  She succeeded admirably.  After enduring several moments of excruciating
pain, Genevieve felt her nipple start to bleed, and the enraged blonde screamed.  Candy smiled wickedly towards Eric. She hoped he was enjoying the show!

"Your face!" Genevieve howled in rage.  "Your face is MINE!" So saying, she brought her razor claws up from the redhead's breasts and landed them on the redhead's right cheek.
Pulling Candy close with her right arm so she could breathe in her ear, she hissed, "I'm going to make you BLEED!"

Her eager talons found their mark.  Genevieve's first swipe brought her long red nails flying ferociously from just below Candy's hairline, very near her right eye, full across her cheek.  The second swipe traveled almost completely around Candy's neck, where the blonde's nails were only interrupted in their hurtful mission by Candy's studded black leather collar.  Four deep scratches now appeared on the redhead's face, and two more on her long white neck.  All of them were deep and starting to bleed.  Genevieve smiled bitterly in satisfaction.

Candy thrashed mightily in the water and finally managed to free herself from Genevieve's hateful grip.  The two girls broke apart, and instinctively retreated a bit from one another.  They sat in the warm water on the tub's inner ledge, sullenly surveying the results of their efforts so far.

Both girls were breathing hard, making their already large breasts swell with the exertion.  The warm water and the fierce physical battle had made them sweaty.  Their previously beautiful hairdos were becoming limp and matted, and each girl had lost an earring.  Both girls had bleeding lips and generously scratched breasts.  In addition, Genevieve sported a bleeding right nipple and Candy had the long bleeding scratches on the right side of her face and neck.

They both turned to Eric for approval, eager for validation that he found them exciting and desirable, that he was interested and aroused by their fighting for him.

He addressed them both.  "You look magnificent!" he said honestly.  "You are both superb fighters!  I only wish you could both win..."  His voice trailed off.  "But that can't be, of course.  It appears you're going to have to punish each other even more before this contest ends!"

Genevieve's eyes widened as she contemplated more fighting with her ferocious challenger.  God, she was in pain already, but, truth be told, it turned her on, too.  She loved the pain.  She really loved to fight with another woman and hurt her, especially if the other woman fought back.  She had discovered that just inflicting hurt on another girl didn't do it for her ‑it just made her feel contemptuous of her "opponent".  But if the girl fought back, the harder the better, why then, that always induced a haze of erotic pain/pleasure to swirl about her.  Such a haze was starting to swirl about her now.

She turned back to face Candy. "You're not tired already, are you?" the blonde mockingly asked her rival.  "You're not going to fold up on me, just when I was starting to have FUN?"

Candy glared at her rival and took a few deep breaths.  She arose from her seat and moved carefully to the center the tub.  "Come here!" she taunted her opponent.  "I'll show you how tired I am..."

"Ooo ‑ such spunk!" Genevieve said teasingly.  She turned to Eric, who was watching in rapt attention.  "I think she wants to play some more..." she purred.

Eric smiled.  "Show her a good time, darling!" he urged. "Give her all she wants!"

The blonde arose from the ledge and joined her rival in the center of the tub.  She stopped only when she was toe‑to‑toe with her challenger.  She put her gloved hands on her naked
hips, her thumbs hooked into the heavy gold chain wrapped around her waist.  "Here I am, sweetie..." she purred menacingly.  "Now why did you invite me all the way out here when we had such nice, comfortable seats over there?"

Candy ignored the bait, and instead looked down at Genevieve's chain.  An idea suddenly crossed her mind. "How long is that chain?" she asked her rival.

"What do YOU care, slut?" replied the blonde, annoyed at what she interpreted as a delaying tactic.  She wanted to FIGHT! "Long enough to wrap around your neck!" she finally answered.

Candy smiled to herself, pleased that she'd been able to put Genevieve psychologically off balance.  "Why don't we use it to tie ourselves together..." she suggested.  The blonde
immediately appreciated the drama of the idea, and instantly regretted not thinking of it first.

"Then what?" asked the blonde, urging her rival to actually voice the promise of close fighting this would afford them. Luxurious in‑fighting, ample opportunity to hurt each other
with total abandon...  The haze across Genevieve's mind was swirling faster...

"Then we're going to hurt each other..." the brunette replied huskily.  She knew she had won the psychological point.

"OK, let's DO IT!" Genevieve breathed raggedly.  Quickly she unfastened the chain's clasp and removed it from around her small waist. She reached over, wrapped it around Candy's
waist, then around her own.  Once it was refastened, the gold chain left only scant inches between the two of them. Exactly as Candy had planned...

The fighters stood together in the tub, water up to their waists, bound together so close now that their nipples were mashed against one another.  Blood from Genevieve's wounded
nipple smeared across both their chests.  Their legs were likewise pressed together, and Candy could feel Genevieve's high boot against her thigh.

Being in such close proximity, in contact so intimate, the tension between the hellcats was near the flash point.  "All right you blonde bitch!" Candy opened. "Let's see what kind of woman you REALLY are!"

She pressed herself harder against her blonde rival and brought her arms up around Genevieve's back in a seeming bear hug.  But this was a bear hug with claws!  As Candy rested her head on Genevieve's shoulder for support, the blonde hurried to get into position.  She understood the duel Candy was offering, and didn't want to be seen as hesitating to
accept it. With new urgency and determination, they fell on one another again.  With heels planted wide apart for balance, each girl started to rake her partner's back with her nails.  After the first initial needles of specific pain, both their backs felt as though they were on fire from the dozens and dozens of ferocious and completely unchecked scratches.  Many long red
welts and deep bleeding scratches soon appeared to decorate expanses of recently smooth and soft white skin.

After a long bout of mutual punishment, each girl seemed separately but simultaneously to conceive of the idea of sinking her teeth into her opponent's neck and shoulders. While Genevieve was at a disadvantage because of Candy's leather choker, both girls were able to find enough soft flesh to attack with sharp teeth.  Bound together in an embrace of erotic pain, both girls hot and wet and growing tired, they bit and scratched each other with savage abandon. Tears of pain filled their eyes, and both moaned softly as wave after wave of pain seared through their bodies.

Genevieve was filled with pain, more pain than she had known in a very long time, and she wanted to hurt her rival even more.  She wanted to end this fight by hurting Candy more
than she had hurt her, and she thought she knew how to do that.

Grabbing the redhead by her long hair a final time, she put her mouth to her rival's ear and whispered "Tear off your thong and open your legs.  Let's scratch cunts!"  She didn't
know if Candy was even conscious enough to understand her, so far had they travelled down their road of ecstatic pain.

But Candy was still an eager, if now nearly exhausted, competitor.  In a magnificent display of willful abandon, the redhead reached down with one gloved hand and clawed furiously at the black leather thong.  Even though it took three tries, and she bloodied her inner thigh and hip doing it, she managed to rend the garment and expose herself to her now‑hated rival.

The fighters now stood precariously on their towering were spread wide apart, their naked pussies completely unprotected, ready now to try to endure the final punishment they would offer each other.

"Hurt me!" invited Genevieve as she reached down between Candy's open legs with her right hand.  "Hurt me as much as you can, because that's exactly what I'm going to do to you!"

With that warning, she reached up and sunk her long nails deep into the folds of Candy's pussy lips.  Once inside, she clawed her hand and started to rake and gouge.  A long scream
passed from the redhead's lips as the felt the first attack. She strove quickly to return the favor.  She found her own target easily, since Genevieve had in no way tried to bring her booted thighs together for protection.

Crying and screaming now, the pain‑crazed catfighters tore again and again at their most vulnerable regions.  The soapy water in no way assuaged the fire between their legs, and
they were barely able to continue.  Yet continue they did, for a frighteningly long time.

Eric watched with hypnotic interest as his two young fighters tortured each other.  Their bloodied bodies were writhing from pain and exertion, and their scratched shoulders were
nearly covered with now‑matted and wildly disheveled hair. He could not have asked for more.  They were giving their all for him.

Finally, Genevieve placed one booted leg behind Candy's and pushed hard.  The redhead fell back into the tub, and hit her head on the hard ledge.  Taking advantage of Candy's being
stunned, the blonde hellion fell once more upon her rival, this time bending down to bite at her breasts and even her cheek.  She drew back, balanced herself on her high heels,
and started slapping Candy savagely in the face, her long nails occasionally leaving still more scratches across her rival's face.  Candy held up her gloved hand and howled. "Nooooo!" she cried.  "No more!  You win!"  And she slumped back on the tub ledge, her head hung low in exhaustion and defeat.

Genevieve fell back into the tub to soak off some of the blood still dripping from her many scratches, then raised herself to the ledge and looked over to Eric.  Her eyes were filled with tears.

"I beat her!" she said proudly, looking adoringly at the man she had come to love.  "She won't be looking to come between us any more..."  She sobbed softly from the many injuries she had received, then let a small smile cross her face.

"I'm still the Mistress!" she said brightly.  She rose to her feet in the tub and extended her hand for help.  Eric took it graciously and helped his torn, scratched and bleeding heroine from her arena.

"You most certainly are!" he reaffirmed smilingly as he placed an envelope with ten thousand dollars in her still‑gloved hand.  "You most certainly are!"

"For now..." he added silently to himself as he helped her out of her fighting garb and placed a thick white terrycloth robe around her battered shoulders.

The interview with the Spanish go‑go dancer was not for three weeks yet.