I hadn’t gone out in weeks. I was too fragile – too scared – after what Jimmy Berwick and Brooke Harris had done to me. I still couldn’t understand how they’d planned it out. They’d just destroyed me with mind games, Jimmy narrating an imaginary fight between Brooke and me – one that I started off winning but which swung around to a disastrous loss. He’d recounted it as if he were a TV commentator, sweeping me up in his story and letting my imagination do the rest. Yes, he’d played with me physically, working my tummy fetish too but it was the mind games that had done for me. It was what he – and Brooke when she joined in about halfway through the imaginary fight – made me imagine, what they made me think about, that made me so, so horny, so wet. Then Jimmy took advantage of me, making me cum on his fingers right there in the Ronaldo Bar like any cheap subbie slut.
Of course, it couldn’t have happened – not to me, not to Melissa Windeyer – unless they’d planned to trick me. Everything they had done, from Jimmy greeting me when I first arrived at Ronaldo and he had insisted on helping me put my shoes on, from the angry glances that Brooke gave me when he did that, was all part of a plan. That part – when I came in – was to trick me into believing they were angry and that I had a real chance with Jimmy. So was their talk when I came out of the showers after I’d defeated that Silkie nothing Heidi. It had all been a careful pretence to make me believe they were furious with each other – that they were all but fighting.
That victory had given them the chance they wanted, and they’d seized on it. They knew I’d be all excited – all hot and bothered – after defeating that slut. Everyone knew that every Domme got excited after a win. They’d played me. Their arguing when I came back into the bar, the way Jimmy stuck up for me when Brooke badmouthed me, had been designed to make me relax with Jimmy. They’d tricked me into a vulnerable state and then taken advantage of me. They’d even double teamed me, which was just as unfair when playing mind games as when fighting. It wasn’t my fault at all. They had cheated.
Nevertheless, it niggled at the back of my mind. They had played me for a fool – and a horny fool at that. Maybe I should have known better after the vile thing Colleen had done to me. Should have I expected Jimmy and Brooke to do something? Should I have been on my guard and ready for their trick?
After all that had happened, I couldn’t face seeing people. I knew they’d jeer at me, telling me that I – Melissa Windeyer – was finished, that I was nothing but a sub. They’d expect me to just lie down and open my legs for them.
But Melissa Windeyer isn’t a slut. I’m not like those subbies.
Still, I couldn’t face those places like Ronaldo, Chatto and the rest of them – not yet. I’d need to find somewhere to lay low for a while, to regroup, to work over some weaklings and get my cred back. It had to be some place where I wasn’t well known, where no one had heard the stories of my losses or, even if one or two had heard, the stories wouldn’t have spread. Of course, I couldn’t just go to some place where I knew no one. That would send the message that I was hiding, and that would be just as bad as being slutted out. Everyone would know I was terrified of it happening again. They would all wait for me and would swoop like vultures. Even I would have no chance against them all.
I had to go to some quieter place, where I knew some people but not too many knew me. There I could rebuild my reputation by staying quiet, by being friendly but showing the steel of my Dominance when I had a good opportunity – when there was some weak subbie to be preyed on.
So I’d come to the Galeforce bar. The name was a good pun on the owner’s name – Tiffany Gale. Tiffany was almost up to my standard and she ran a good bar. There was a bit too much leather and lace for my liking but in my position – I was far from desperate of course, but my options were limited – you couldn’t have everything.
I sat quietly in the corner with a drink, chatting to some casual acquaintances, some pretty little nothings and their guys.
“Melissa! Melissa Windeyer! How wonderful to see you.”
I looked up and blushed deeply “Why Justeen…I’m so sorry, I never saw you come in, How are you?” I gushed, mortified that I hadn’t greeted Justeen Northcliffe.
Justeen was everything I deserved to be – rich, successful and famous. Just like me she was an intelligent, well known and generally adored Domme.
I’d first met her outside the D/s scene when she came to the store where I worked. I was just a store clerk then and I’d helped her with decor ideas for the refurbished brownstone that she and her husband – yes she was bi like me – had just bought. She was kind enough to praise me to my boss and suggested I shouldn’t be a sales clerk but a decor consultant, representing the store at clients’ homes and offices, advising on how the rooms should be furnished. My boss had adopted her suggestion, given me a raise and now paid me commission on my sales as well.
Everyone knew Justeen’s story. Already rich and from one of Chicago’s leading families, she’d started making chocolate truffles while she was studying at Chicago University, as a unique present for some of her friends. Her sister Nancy persuaded her to sell them at a charity event and she’d been overwhelmed by people wanting more. Now she had a factory making them and other elite chocolate lines, which she sold through a dozen or so of her own stores. Half the profits went to charities and her company was renowned for its high wages and excellent conditions as much as for the quality of the chocolates. Justeen had won a succession of business awards.
Fewer people knew her as one of the leading Dommes in Chicago. I’d run across her in the scene a few months after I’d met her. She’d recognised a kindred spirit and introduced me to many of her friends.
She was greatly admired and respected in the scene, and it was a highly prized honour to be her sub. Even talking to her got you kudos. She exuded power, poise, success and those around her got to bask in her light. I felt slightly, deliciously moist whenever I saw her. She was a woman even I – Melissa Windeyer – would gladly sub to.
Yet Justeen didn't look all that different from any other young business woman. She was very good looking – just like me – with short reddish hair, pale skin – she said that was the gift of her Nordic forbears – and a lithe, even athletic build. It was clear that she worked out but so did many other professional women in Chicago. Tonight I guessed she had come straight from her office to the bar since she wore the standard ‘business dress’ of blazer, blouse and skirt. In her case it was a dark blue blazer and skirt with a light blue blouse. To a casual observer, there was nothing remarkable about her appearance. It was not until you looked again and saw her green eyes – one moment twinkling with delight, the next smouldering with passion – that you began to realise that here was a woman of power.
Now I’d neglected to greet her when she came in – one of the few mistakes I’d made with her. Thankfully it didn’t seem to faze her. She spoke briefly to the people next to me then to me again. “I’ve recommended your services to some friends of mine. They’ll be contacting you very soon.” She touched my arm lightly, even conspiratorially. “I hope to see you again later in the evening dear, but first I need to catch up with some other people.” She walked off.
As she left, the girls I’d been sitting with were almost creaming themselves to be able to talk to me. It was “Ms Melissa this” and “Ms Melissa that” – just as it should be. They hung on my every word, blushed when I praised them and all but swooned if I touched them. They were much more my type than the rich silkies. These girls all worked as clerks or sales girls. They didn’t have fancy jobs like Heidi Foster and her crowd, or like Justeen. Their guys – hard working tradesmen and the like – were admiring my figure and my outfit. I wore a patterned, light grey cocktail outfit with a strapless top held in place by elastic just above the swell of my breasts. It fitted tightly over my taut, sensuous stomach. if anyone looked, they one could see the outline of my navel piercing. I’d teamed it with a matching skirt, not quite knee-length. My long chestnut hair, shot with golden highlights, was loose on my bare shoulders. I had my gold ankle strap sandals with four inch heels on my feet and a gold coloured bag. A matching chunky gold bracelet and a thick rope necklace finished my attire.
A little while later I excused myself and went to the bar. I saw Justeen again and made a point of speaking with her. “Thank you for welcoming me so warmly. I’m so pleased to see you here. Do you come here often?” Justeen nodded. “Then I will have to do so too. The girls I was with spoke very respectfully of you…as they should. You’re one of the leading Dommes in the Chicago scene. Everyone admires you.”
Justeen smiled encouragingly. Her eyes twinkled.
“How’s your business?” I continued, and turned to the people around us “Did you read that Ms Justeen won another business award? She makes the most divine chocolates.” I turned back to Justeen and smiled. “By now you probably use the awards as door stops. How many do you have?”
“Oh…not that many, Melissa.”
“How have you settled into your home? Yes I know it was months ago that I advised on your décor, but I find that many of my clients take a while to get everything just the way they want, especially in a refurbished apartment. I’d be delighted to help you out again if you or Andrew needed anything.” I noticed suitably impressed expressions on the faces of the onlookers.
“Thanks dear, that’s very kind of you.” She turned to the girl next to her. “Clara, I’d like you to meet Ms Melissa.” She emphasised the ‘Ms’ with a wink and a broad smile.
Clara looked at me adoringly. “I’m so pleased to meet you Ms Melissa, as I would be to meet any friend of Ms Justeen's.” She was a typical subbie slut, with a slim build and a big bust. She wore a skirt so short that she would no doubt show her panties when she bent over, and four inch heels. Her t-shirt was evidently a couple of sizes too small for her and from the way her nipples poked through it, it was easy to see that they were both pierced. The t-shirt was cropped to expose her midriff, so I could see her navel piercing.
I smiled. She'd gotten the message that Melissa Windeyer and Justeen Northcliffe were on close terms.
“Ms Melissa isn't just a friend; she's helped me professionally too. She’s a décor consultant.”
Clara looked a little puzzled. “Is that like an interior decorator?”
“Yes pet, it is…a little…but décor consultants do commercial buildings. They advise on paint schemes, furniture and…well, generally more than just interior design.” She turned back to me. “Melissa…oh sorry, Ms Melissa…speaking of commercial buildings, would be able to consult for my office?”
“Of course! I'd be delighted!” I was so pleased that she wanted me to consult on another project for her, and even more pleased that she would ask me in front of everyone. “When would you like me to start?” I stopped myself suddenly as I realized I was gushing but I need not have been concerned. Justeen asked me a few more questions about her office and I answered them – impressively but then, I knew what I was talking about.
Justeen seemed to sense that Clara was getting bored. We agreed to continue the conversation another time and she changed the subject. “Ms Melissa normally patronises Chatro and Ronaldo. It’s quite an honour to have her here.”
Clara’s eyes widened. “Chatro? Ronaldo? You were telling me about those places, where there are always fights.” She shivered. “She goes there?”
“Yes she does,” replied Justeen with a wink at me, “but don’t look so scared. Remember, we have fights here too, sometimes. Of course, a cute little sub like you stays right out of them.”
She patted Clara on the arm. “You’re right though…those places have many more fights. Reputations are made or broken in those fights. Sometimes two Dommes will fight and only one walks away…as a Domme, at any rate. The other....well, she's no Domme any longer…not for a while at least. Ms Melissa did that too.”
My heart skipped a beat – What had she heard? – but I was reassured as she went on, “You wouldn’t think it to look at her, but Ms Melissa mixes it with the best there.” She stopped and smiled. “Oh, what am I saying? She is one of the best there.” Again Justeen winked. “Ms Melissa wins many more than she loses. But then, Melissa fights to win…viciously if she has to. There’s no ‘gentlemen’s rules’, nothing silly about only ‘hitting above the belt’ with Ms Melissa. No, anything’s fair, isn’t it Melissa?”
I opened my mouth but Justeen didn’t let me reply. Instead she continued, “I remember when you were fighting Mandy Wheat-Davies. She’d already pounded you with belly punches and all but finished you off with a blow to the head that must have made you see stars. It dropped you to your knees.” She smiled. “Then you got your hand inside her panties and clawed and scratched her down there. Girls…you should have heard Mandy scream!” Justeen’s circle looked at me, wide-eyed.
“Then, still clawing Mandy’s pussy, Melissa head butted her in the gut…twice! She put Mandy down on her back and still she didn’t stop clawing her. She even ripped out some of Mandy’s thatch. Yep…balded her down there! Mandy’ screams were cut off when Melissa dropped a knee into her stomach. Then she straddled her, bouncing up and down and crushing all the air out of Mandy’s lungs while she slipped her hand back again and balded what remained of Mandy’s hair.”
I tried to suppress a smirk at the memory, but when I saw just how horrified and scared Clara was – she was actually shaking – I couldn’t hold it back. Justeen chuckled. “Yes, you’re remembering that, aren’t you Melissa? Clara, do you know what Melissa said when she was celebrating her victory?” Clara shook her head. “She said, ‘Mandy will have to give head for a while. She’ll be way too sore to be fucked for a week!’”
I blushed red as Justeen went on. “Oh yes, Ms Melissa has a mean streak, pet. Don’t ever cross her. But pet, don’t get the wrong idea either. Melissa’s not the only Domme in Chatro or Ronaldo to do something like that of course. She just does it better, more often and more viciously. Remember the golden rule…‘do unto others as they’d do to you…just do it first and do it worse’. She laughed. “That’s just what Ms Melissa does. She does it to her enemies before they can do it to her, and she does it harder.
“Of course, fighting at Chatro and Ronaldo isn't always vicious. It's not always tooth and nail. Oh no, pet…sometimes the fighting between two Dommes can be quite pleasurable…often way too pleasurable for the loser.”
Clara looked puzzled.
“Ms Melissa can tell you about that. She's broken one wannabe Domme and turned her into her personal sub. Melissa had had a bit of bad luck right before that. No one wins all the time…even Muhammad Ali had a few losses in his career. It's fair to say, Melissa, you had people wondering about you…whether you'd been flipped.”
I gasped and reddened in a far less gratified way than I had a few moments ago. Why was Justeen dredging this up? Did she want to humiliate me? I couldn't believe she was saying this. Nor it seemed could Clara, who looked at me, “Flipped? As in turned into a sub?” She looked both horrified and agog to hear more.
Justeen carried on smoothly, “People may have wondered but you showed them that they were wrong when you took Holly.” She addressed Clara again. “Holly was unwise. She was one of those who wondered, perhaps believed, that Ms Melissa had been flipped. She challenged Ms Melissa. They clashed, verbally at first but when Melissa bested Holly at that, Holly switched and her voice became soft and sensual. It was like she was caressing Melissa with her words as she reminded Ms Melissa of her recent defeat. I think dear,” again Justeen looked straight at me, “at that point you were flustered, more than a little hot and bothered, even…and it got worse before it got better, didn't it?”
I quailed under Justeen's intense stare. I shifted my weight uneasily, trying hard not to shuffle from foot to foot. Why was she retelling all this ancient history to her sub? Was she – perish the thought – trying to break me too? The seed of that idea took root in my imagination. My stomach churned, my chest tightened and I felt my knees grow weak.
The danger passed as she went on. “But it did get better. Holly tried to treat Melissa like a sub, ripe for plucking. She caressed her, whispered to her. Then Melissa really showed what she was made of, and reversed the roles. She fought back with the same weapons, kissing, stroking and caressing Holly's body, whispering softly to Holly. Slowly, Ms Melissa established her dominance over Holly, pushing Holly back a pace or so, easing Holly’s panties down, prying Holly’s thighs open. Even though Holly was physically bigger than Melissa, Melissa demonstrated her hold over her by forcing Holly down on a table…tummy uppermost, legs splayed apart…and finally finger fucking her, making her cum in public.
“Since then Holly’s been a weak sub.”
I glanced at Clara. She was visibly panting, her breasts heaving above the low neckline of her t-shirt. Her face was flushed all the way down to her bosom and her throat and chest were beginning to glow with a smear of perspiration. Perhaps I’d misunderstood Justeen’s target. It seemed she was using the story of me and Holly to work her own slut, rather than trying the difficult – let’s face it, almost impossible – task of slutting me.
Justeen continued “Sometimes they fight for reputation, sometimes for dominance. Sometimes they even fight for control of a prized sub...yes, just like you, pet. Can you imagine it…two strong women fighting with you as the prize? Of course, you have no say in it. The victory decides who you belong to.”
I decided it was time to chime in. “Don't look so scared, Clara.” I leaned forward and patted her cheek. I felt her shiver at my touch as I looked straight into her eyes. “Or are you scared you might like that, sweetie?” Clara gulped and blushed. She shifted from foot to foot. I could almost smell her lust.
“Is Ms Melissa right, pet?” Justeen patted Clara's butt. “She probably is. Ms Melissa's done that too.” Again Justeen’s voice subtly underlined ‘Ms’. “Yes, she fought another Domme over a sub, and won.” Julia was a sub worth having, too. She was a switch…she’d eat you alive, pet. Karyn Black had just turned her inside out and shown Julia the depth of her sub side. Then along comes Ms Melissa here, fights Karyn and takes Julia clean away from her.”
I enjoyed the look in Clara’s eyes, not to mention those of the others around us as Justeen sang my praises in front of them all. “You're imagining that, aren't you sweetie?” I said sharply to Clara. She said nothing but stared at me and licked her lips.
I was remembering that night. I hadn’t suspected Julia was the slightest bit subbie when I first met the redhead Hoosier. She was studying law, working in a legal practice and living in a block of apartments her parents owned. Yes, the whole building – they’d bought it just so their darling daughter had somewhere to live. She was new on the scene but had carved a swathe through Chatro, taking subbies left and right. That is, until she came to meet Karyn Black. The subdued, even dowdy looking Karyn – she wore glasses and clothing that made her look every inch the school teacher that she was – had stared Julia down one night in an intense confrontation. It wasn’t a fight and there was hardly even a word spoken, but it ended with Julia kneeling to her. It was one of the most amazing sights in Chatro history.
Julia jumped right into her new subbie role and within a week, everyone knew just how excellent, how loyal and how eager to serve she seemed to be. She had become the poster child for submissives – a glittering prize – and I simply had to have her.
I also had to show Karyn up. Karyn had belittled me publicly. She said I was a weak Domme, that all I could do was work over weak girls, that I was like an hyena seizing the scraps that fell from stronger girls like herself. About a week after she took Julia, Karyn began telling everyone I was next on her list, that when she’d finished with me I’d be a jobber, wanting only to lose fights and be worked over..
I’d shuddered when I heard that. Not only was Karyn much stronger physically then I’d ever be – she worked out just about every day – but she also intimidated me mentally. Everyone knew she was a Domme. She didn’t have to work for her status like I’d had to. Everyone knew she was smart too. She liked to show up my lack of education whenever she got a chance, humiliating me with quotes from books I hadn’t read but just about everyone else had, and by leading me on to say things so that she could show me – and everyone else – just how wrong I was. She also came from a wealthy family. It wasn’t enough for her to be part of the magic circle that I deserved to belong to. She had to show that I didn’t belong and if she had her way, I never would. I hated her.
My opportunity to achieve both my goals – to claim Julia and to show Karyn up – came when Julia arrived a little early at the bar one night. I chatted to her, gently at first, just one girl to another, but when she told me why she was alone and waiting for Karyn, I let the steel enter my voice.
It seemed Karyn had had a very trying day. School gym class had not only tired her out but hurt her too. She’d apparently been coaching volleyball when she tripped and fell hard on her shoulder, bruising and grazing it badly. Then she’d had problems not just with her students but with their parents and, when one parent had complained to the principal, with the principal as well. It didn't help that she and the principal clashed. Julia told me Karyn was looking forward to a quiet night at the bar to recharge her batteries.
I had a different idea – a brilliant idea to seize the day in a way that only would occur to someone as clever and as naturally dominant as Melissa Windeyer. I'd take Julia and defy the weakened Karyn to stop me. She probably wouldn’t risk losing a fight to me, and that would make her look weak in front of the entire crowd. Even if she did decide to risk it, I knew I could take her, tired and hurt as she was.
I laid some foundations of course. There were two friends of mine there that night – Amy and Juanita – who held no love for Karyn. A quick word got them on-side. That was the easy part – I simply promised to share Julia with them. In return, they agreed to undermine Karyn if she tried to fight or even argue with me. They agreed to help me with Julia too and after starting a conversation among the four of us, I left the table for a few moments. As arranged, they began to pick on her and from the bar I could see that she was flustered, confused and upset. On cue, I reappeared to be her saviour and put them in their place with a few choice words. The plan worked perfectly – of course, since I’d planned it – and Julia was gushing in her gratitude as I soothed her gently.
Only after I sent my two chastened friends on their way did I unleash the steel behind the velvet. Julia didn't know which way was up. A moment ago I'd been friendly, helping her, now I was the strict Queen of Chatro whom she'd seen work over other girls without mercy. It took her a few moments to realise I was going to work her too and by then it was too late to summon her defenses. She surrendered.
I soon had her mewling, kneeling before me. Her panties were in my hand, her skirt was up around her waist and she was humping my boot by the time Amy – at my behest – texted Karyn pretending to be furious that ‘such a weak wannabe like Melissa’ was playing with Julia. She even texted her a photo.
When Karyn arrived a few minutes later, she made a beeline for me. I told her in no uncertain terms what I was going to do to Julia and that she couldn’t stop me. Juanita told her she was finished as a Domme, that she'd never be able to resist me. She tried and we fought.
She might have won if my friends hadn't fooled her. Amy had told her I was weak, just reinforcing Karyn’s wrong view of me. So Karyn charged in, fists raised, ready to punish me and confident of an easy win. I ducked, her fist went over my head and I slammed my fist hard into her open stomach. Completely unprepared, she doubled up. I grabbed her hair and sent three hard knees into her belly before she could disengage.
“Beginners luck!” Amy jibed, urging Karyn on. “Don’t let Melissa fool you! She can’t fight!” Karyn attacked again. I kept evading her, dodging, ducking, weaving, retreating. If she got a few hard blows in, I knew she’d weaken me badly. The more I evaded her though, the more frustrated she became – and more tired too. She was starting to sweat. She’d clearly not just hurt her right shoulder but her leg as well, for she was beginning to limp. As she tired and began to puff, my friends jeered at her, mocking her by throwing back the insults she’d dished out to me. That only made her more enraged, more determined to finish me off quickly. She was lashing out rashly, angrily, thinking less clearly by the moment.
I attacked whenever I saw a good opening, and always on her weakened right side. I darted in, hit her with a left-right combo to the ribs or a kick on her injured thigh and darted back, never staying within her range long enough for her to swing around and strike back at me. Each bow I landed – and with her injured arm, she couldn’t defend well so most of my blow landed – produced a groan or a gasp from her. Each kick or knee that struck her thigh made her limp more heavily. Each fist that struck her side made her bend over a little more. I was slowly taking her apart – the Chinese ‘death by a thousand cuts’ – and it was working.
I knew I couldn’t avoid her forever. Inevitably she would get lucky. That’s all it would be of course – luck, not superior skill. Nevertheless, sooner or later she was going to hit me hard – and she did, with an uppercut that struck my chin, snapped my head back and sent me stumbling backwards for almost a yard.
If Karyn hadn’t already been hurt, she might have finished me off then. As it was, she moved slowly, dragging her injured leg, but she was still onto me before I fully steadied myself by grabbing a convenient chair. With one holding the chair and the other trying to block her left hand, I was unprepared for her knee that slammed into my sensuously curving tummy. “Oooofff!!!” I gasped, doubling forward.
Just then though, Karyn’s attention was diverted by Julia’s scream. I’d left her under Juanita’s supervision and worded Juanita up with instructions to make Julia scream if I got into difficulties. Now Juanita was obeying those instructions and having fun with the slut in the process. She’d provoked the scream by digging her nails into Julia’s bare boobs and twisting them. She’d already gotten Julia’s top off.
Karyn couldn’t help but be distracted by the sub’s scream – the fool really did care for Julia, rather than treating her as just another slut to be enjoyed. As she took her eyes off me and her attention away from the fight, I kicked out at her wounded thigh. She cried out and stumbled. Her leg must have been giving her hell. Who cared? I’d escaped.
Once again I’d outsmarted my enemy – this time Karyn, and this time with a little teamwork. But then, I’m Melissa Windeyer. I take care of my friends and they take care of me.
Again, I attacked with light punches and kicks and again Karyn had little answer. I was wearing her down and wearing her out. She groaned with each blow now. She blocked some of them – maybe more than before. She seemed to have got a handle on how I was fighting, but she was still flatfooted and couldn’t move fast. She launched several hard roundhouse blows with her left fist, any one of which would have hurt me had it hit as intended. None of them hit though. I dodged them all. I was just outmaneuvering her. She was panting for breath and she retreated as I went on the offensive again. I smirked as I saw the pillar behind her. I shepherded her into it with light jabbing punches.
“Ooofff!!!” Again the air exploded out of my lungs. I thought I’d had her when I’d forced her against the pillar. I’d trapped her and she leaned back against the pillar as though too tired to fight. As I’d closed in for the kill, she’d swung her leg up right into my sexy stomach. The bitch had used the pillar for support so she could hit me with her good leg. I doubled up, spluttering.
She seized my hair. I groaned as her knee thumped into my tummy again, lifting me upright. I clawed at her face and grabbed her hair. We jerked each other’s head, each holding a fistful of hair and punching or slapping with the other hand. I regained my hold on the fight. Karyn’s right side was just too badly hurt for her to use much force with her punches. I was hitting her hard and often, certainly harder and more often than she hit me. She was whitening as she realised she was losing.
Then she thrust forward, hurling her body onto me. I reeled backwards, arms windmilling. I released my hold on her hair but she kept her hold on mine. Somehow she managed to swing me and hurl me against the wall. I couldn’t believe it! I’d been taking the fight to her. I just about had her and now – this!
She smirked evilly. She’d have picked me apart if I hadn’t slammed my knee up between her thighs straight into her pussy. She doubled up in pain. I grabbed her head and slammed it down onto my upraised knee – twice. Then I did it once more for good luck. Her nose burst into blood. She cupped her face in her hands. I kicked her in the stomach and she went down.
She was finished. I’d beaten the stronger, more powerful Karyn in full view of all those at Chatro. It was mind over matter – and my superior mind won. I might only have been a sales clerk then and she a school teacher, but I was Melissa Windeyer.
I let Juanita and Amy have their way with Julia of course. Melissa Windeyer is as good as her word. I even let them have their way with Karyn too.
It was such a wonderful memory.
“The pity was, Melissa, that Julia didn't last long as your sub,” said Justeen, bringing me almost reluctantly out of my reverie. I thought she’d concluded but she looked at me and added, “I wonder how much longer she’d have stayed subbie if she’d remained as Karyn’s.” I looked at her, surprised. What was she implying? I didn’t have time to dwell on it though as she went on smoothly, “Yes she was a switch.”
I nodded, then turned to the white faced Clara. “Unlike you, sweetie.” I stroked her face and she shivered again. “Sometimes, the subbies fight in Chatro too. They can fight for their Domme. They can fight out of jealousy too…rivals for a Domme's favour. That’s how most of the fights happen...jealousy, hatred and fear. They prey on weaker girls or fallen dommes, just to show they’re not at the bottom of the heap. Chatro…at least for the subbies…is a world run solely on pride, lust, hate and humiliation.” Clara was trembling. It was time to twist the knife. “Clara, you wouldn’t last ten minutes without a protectress like Ms Justeen.”
Clara gasped and reached instinctively for Justeen. “I'd never go there without you Ms!”
“Is there any difference for the Dommes at Chatro…or Ronaldo for that matter,Melissa?” Justeen asked. “Didn’t you fight…yes, sex fighting is still fighting…didn’t you fight Holly to show your power? Didn’t you fight Heidi Foster to build your power?”
“No Justeen, I didn’t. I fought Heidi because she’d ravished Holly, my sub. A true Domme takes care of her subs.”
“Yes…well, you did that…and you built your power so much you attracted a new sub.”
“Yes,” I smiled, “Paulette, the cloak room girl. She watched the fight. She just loved the way I handed Heidi her ass…so much so she wanted to serve me.”
Justeen smiled. “And she did, or so I heard.” She continued to Clara, “But I also heard a rumour that, later that night, Ms Melissa didn’t do too well in a skirmish at Ronaldo.” She waved a hand dismissively. “But it was an unfair fight. She not only had to face her female foe but the bitch’s boyfriend too, who ran interference.”
Clara gave me a strange look, different to the way she’d looked at me a moment ago, almost disrespectful, as though she was about to say, “So that’s why you’re here.” It must have been my imagination though, because she actually said, “Welcome. I’m glad to meet you, Ms Melissa. Would you like to join me and my friends over there?”
I was about to accept when Justeen spoke up. “No, not now. Ms Melissa and I have a few things to discuss. Go on now, sweetie.”
I watched as Clara simpered and walked off. “She’s a pretty thing, Justeen.”
“Indeed she is, cute as a button.” She touched my hand. “Let me buy you a drink.” After the bartender took our order, Justeen slid closer and took my arm. “So,” she said, her voice a conspiratorial murmur, “what did that heel Jimmy Berwick and his moll Brooke Harris do to you? One hears the most ludicrously exaggerated rumours.” She hugged me, her breasts pressed tight into mine. “Melissa dear, we all need a confidante. Even someone like you needs to unburden yourself.”
So I told Justeen some of what had happened, how Jimmy and Brooke ran mind games until I didn’t know which end was up and they took advantage of me. I didn’t tell it all- I couldn’t, not even to a sympathetic, wise Domme like Justeen. “Justeen, they played me. I’ll admit, I wanted to score with Jimmy Berwick. He’s totally the kind of guy I want to date…rich, unscrupulous,” I laughed a little at that, “one of Chi town’s best known ‘bad boys’. I really thought I had a chance with him when he touched me up and Brooke was staring daggers at me. Yeah, it would have probably been a one night stand…but it would have one he’d never forget.”
“Who knows?” replied Justine. “You’re more than just a hottie.” Her smile was almost a smirk. “You deserve an unscrupulous bad boy like him." She sipped her drink. “Were they playing you then? Maybe not…there was no way they could’ve foreseen your fight with Heidi. Was Jimmy playing you? Yes, I can see how he’d use you to make Brooke jealous. You know they’d argued.” I nodded. I hadn’t known that, but I didn’t want to seem dumb to Justeen. “Jimmy thought…rightly as it turned out…that Brooke wouldn’t stand by while he flirted with you. He was playing you against Brooke.”
“Was that argument at the bar all put on?” I asked.
“How would I know? I wasn’t there.” Justeen tapped her foot, then looked at me directly. “Come clean, Melissa. What you really mean is, were they playing you then?”
I smiled back. “Yes. There’s no use hiding anything from you, Justeen.”
“What were they talking about when you came out of the showers?”
“Me,” I answered immediately. “Brooke was insulting me and Jimmy was defending me.”
“And Jimmy would have seen you come out of the showers?”
“Yes. He winked at me as I came close to them. He complimented me on my win.”
“And he flirted with you? With Brooke next to him? Right in her face?”
“Yes.”
“He put his arm round you, holding you close, and complimented you again on your fight?” I nodded “And he told Brooke that she secretly liked fighting too?”
“Yes. It was like he was goading Brooke, trying to get her to fight me.”
“I don’t think Brooke has ever fought seriously. You know she’s not in your class when it comes to fighting…or other things too, of course honey.” I nodded. Justeen was so right. Brooke was just not my equal. “So he wasn’t really wanting you and Brooke to fight, was he?”
“He could have wanted me to beat her and ...”
Justeen looked hard at me. “He had his hand round your waist, restraining you!”
I gulped. I’d never looked at it that way. “Well…at the time I thought he wanted Brooke and me to fight. He knew I’d beat her...” I trailed off as I caught Justeen’s eye. I blushed a deep burning red. “Of course. That’s just what Jimmy wanted me to think.” I gulped again. “He set me up.’
“Yes Melissa…he set you up. He knew you’d still be unsatisfied, still hot after the fight with Heidi. He excited you with the thought of fighting Brooke. That was the bait in his trap.” She stared at me in silence for a moment. “And you took the bait. Whether Brooke was in on it to begin with, or whether she caught onto it later, doesn’t matter. You were vulnerable, of course, all hot and bothered after the fight with Heidi and also, I hear, a delicious incident in the showers with that lovely little Paulette afterwards. He and Brooke played you…played you expertly. But you let them. You could have escaped. You didn’t. You let them play you.”
Justeen’s eyes burned into me. I couldn’t meet her gaze. She was right. I had let them play me. I saw that when Justeen pointed it out. But it wasn’t my fault. They had taken advantage of me.
“Look at me, Melissa!” Her voice lashed me. My eyes snapped up to hers before I even knew what I was doing. My stomach churned, I gasped for breath. Never had I felt weaker, more vulnerable, more subbie – no, not even when Colleen had flipped me, not even when Brooke and Jimmy had played me. And all Justeen had done was spoken to me. I stared into her eyes as she asked – no, not asked, commanded. That very act of obedience admitted my weakness.
My knees felt like rubber but I steeled myself and fought the demon within that told me to admit my weakness, to acknowledge Justeen’s power over me. That demon painted all too delightful pictures in mind. It showed me my submission, assured me that I’d be Justeen’s Grand Vizier, submissive to her but absolute over all her other slaves.
No! Mentally I shook myself. I was not a submissive, not even the queen of submissives. I am Melissa Windeyer! I am a Chatro Queen, a Domme. I would not kneel to Justeen. I would not surrender to anyone…not even her.
Justeen looked deep into my eyes and smiled. I trembled yet again. She knew! She knew how much I’d struggled not to kneel to her just now. Her next words, delivered in a low, confidential tone so that only I could hear, cut me to the core. “To the outside world, you are Ms Melissa Windeyer, a strong, powerful, sexy Domme. You’re the same Ms Melissa Windeyer you showed yourself to be when you fought Heidi, when you just about made Clara cum earlier.” She smiled again, more encouragingly this time. “Oh yes you did. Now, let’s have another drink and then you can join the others.”
Then you can rejoin the others. Justeen’s words echoed in my head. She was giving me permission – after I’d done as she said. I hadn’t knelt to her - to the outside world, nothing had changed – but between her and I, everything had changed. To the outside world, you are a strong, powerful, sexy Domme I also heard the words she hadn’t spoken. But I know different. I knew that I had to prove myself – to Justeen – that I was the Melissa Windeyer the world saw.
Justeen bought me another drink. “By the way, have you seen Paulette lately? No, I thought not. More’s the pity. She’s such a delectable little thing.” She took a long sip of her own drink. “But yes, you were set up…unfairly. They cheated.” She patted my arm gently. “I’m sure it will…all blow over.”
We chatted for a few more moments while Justeen finished her drink. Then she said, “It’s been good to talk with you Melissa. I’m glad you shared your problem with me. But I must be going.” She stood up and walked away.
I sat there, blinking. Justeen had just dismissed me – me! Melissa Windeyer! – but I realised that was how it was going to be with Justeen from now on.
I was on my way to join Clara and her friends – just as Justeen had ordered – when a hand brushed my shoulder. I turned to look into the most limpid, bright blue eyes and at one of the bushiest, most luxuriant handlebar moustaches I’d ever seen. “Hello…Melissa, isn’t it?”
“Yes,” I replied said uncertainly, though I smiled graciously while silently sucking in my breath so my breasts would jiggle slightly. I’d always thought moustaches were sexy but I’d only found out just how sexy when a guy who had one ate me out. It was the most delicious tickling I’d ever had and even more than his industrious tongue, the moustache alone had made me cum and cum again. For a fleeting second as I looked into this guy’s eyes, I imagined his moustache doing the same. It had been so long since I’d got laid – way too long for any normal, twenty first century girl who’s not a prude, way too long for someone as sexy, as desirable, as sensuous as Melissa Windeyer.
This guy was certainly a well presented package – average height, probably in his mid-thirties. It wasn’t a problem that he might be ten years older than me. That meant more experience, more money and he’d be less likely to mess about like a wet teenager. He was perhaps a little more conservatively dressed than I usually liked, in a charcoal grey Brooks Brothers blazer, an open neck striped shirt and dark dress pants, but his look of not-too-deeply suppressed devilry more than made up for that. Still I put the image aside. My imagination had already gotten me into too much trouble lately.
“Joseph Césaire Joffre” he went on, “delighted to meet you. My friends call me Joe. I saw you talking with Justeen. I hoped she might have introduced me to you but she didn’t, so I am introducing myself.”
“I’m not your friend ...yet,” I let that last word hang in the air, “so I shall call you Césaire.” I smiled and averted my eyes but touched his arm lightly and quickly with my fingers.
“I hope you will be my friend...soon.” Césaire’s eyes sparkled. “Let me buy you a drink so we can get to know one another.”
He took my arm, slipped it into his own and led me to the bar. After he had bought some drinks, he guided me to a quiet table. Césaire told me he was an engineer. It was a profession I’d always thought rather boring, but Césaire was far from that. He made me laugh with his jokes. He made me blush with his flattering but nonetheless well-deserved compliments. He made me smile with his entertaining talk and most importantly, he made me deliciously, delightfully moist as we flirted.
By the time we’d finished our second cocktail, we were sitting side by side, Césaire’s leg was pressed against mine, his arm was around my waist and we’d already enjoyed one long, deep kiss.
He asked me to dance and I was torn. “Césaire, I’d love to, but I do need to catch up with my friends. I was on my way to see them when you…waylaid me.” I smiled. “They’ll wonder what happened, and they’ll be jealous when they know that I was abducted by such a charmer as you.” I kissed him again and ran my hand over his arm. “Maybe later.” I gave him a third kiss, and it wasn’t just for him.
He smiled as we – finally – broke the kiss. “I’ll hold you to that, Melissa.” His eyes twinkled.
“That might not be all you get to hold,” I giggled softly. I rose from my seat and sashayed away. It was always good to leave a guy wanting more. It was even better when I planned to give it to him.
I found Clara with a couple of girls sitting together, then waved to the people I’d been sitting with earlier and beckoned them over to join us. Everyone was so appreciative when I chatted with them, so respectful of me – as they should be. They had seen and heard Justeen acknowledge me as a sister Domme, as an equal. So she had. No one knew that I’d almost knelt to Justeen. After all, I am Melissa Windeyer.
One of Clara’s friends, Patti, was especially appreciative of my graceful condescension. She was a petite little brunette in a black skirt and tank top, and she never took her big brown eyes off me. I sent her to get some drinks and when she returned, she sat down on the floor at my feet. When I fondled her short, wavy hair, she purred and arched her back like cat. That alone made it a great night – at least to everyone except Justeen and me, and Justeen was an exception even among Dommes. It was just what I needed to remove whatever tarnish there might be on my reputation.
That is, until I saw Britney Summers come in. I’d never had any time for her – a blonde bimbo who flashed her tits at every man around. The little fool thought she was a 'topliner' – her word for a Domme. Just her use of that strange word made it plain to everyone that she wasn’t in my class. On the one occasion when we'd come face to face, I’d told her exactly that. It had been on a crowded night in Ronaldo. She’d been too scared to confront me then. She’d just backed away as people jeered at her and she'd stayed out of my way ever since.
But here, tonight in Galeforce, Britney made a grand entrance. Eyes turned as the door banged loudly behind her and she sauntered into the room. I reddened. She was mimicking me – or at least mimicking what I used to do. Memories flooded back of the way I’d entered bars – Chatro, Ronaldo, the Loft – of how I’d be greeted obsequiously, how men would almost fight for the privilege of helping me take my coat off or to change my shoes. That was the way things had been. Now I slunk in quietly, unnoticed.
Not Britney. She flaunted the style she didn’t have – a style that wasn’t hers to flaunt.
“Look at her…Britney Summers.” Clara shuddered in the seat next to mine. “She’s so strong and sexy. She’s so strict. She treats us like dirt.” She said it as though she relished that kind of treatment.
Jane, another of Clara’s friends, chimed in. “She makes you wet, doesn’t she Clara?” By this time, the other girls I’d sat with at first were up on the dance floor with their guys and it was just Clara, Patti and Jane sitting with me.
Clara blushed and nodded.
I frowned. Subbies had said these kinds of things about me once. I wondered whether they’d ask Patti that question too. I didn’t want it hear what her answer might be. I was even a little concerned that they might ask me. I’d give them a sharp answer that would put them firmly in their place of course, but the very fact that they might ask – that they might regard me as one of them – would be a humiliation in itself.
I didn’t want to be sitting here like this, with them. It had taken me months, painstakingly rebuilding my image after that horrid episode with that vile trickster Colleen, only to have it – and me too – shattered by that deceitful, cheating swine Jimmy Berwick. Now here I was, seated among the subbies.
I couldn’t believe that a sensible girl – like Clara appeared to be – would lust after a tramp like Britney Summers. I looked again at the trashy skinny blonde as she peeled off her coat to reveal a sundress with a v neckline so low that her big round boobs all but spilled out. They were at least 34DDs, I guessed and no doubt implants – there was no need to guess about that. The dress was so short that when she bent over, she’d show her panties. That was if she wore any, which I sincerely doubted. I’d guess she was an inch or two taller than me but she wore such high stilettos that it was hard to tell for sure.
Britney stopped, coat still in hand. She looked around, then snapped her fingers. Suddenly Paulette, the pretty cloak room girl from Ronaldo, appeared out of nowhere and dashed up to her. “Where did you get to, girl?” Britney hissed.
“I’m sorry Ms,” replied Paulette earnestly. “I had to get my shoes on.”
“Don’t keep me waiting again.”
“Oh no Ms! Please Ms…I’m sorry Ms .” Paulette was literally groveling.
I couldn’t believe my eyes. Paulette had acknowledged me so respectfully when I’d last gone to Ronaldo. She’d worshipped me – licked me to orgasm in the shower after I’d defeated that fluff ball Heidi Foster. What was she doing hanging around a trashy, big boobed slut like Britney?
“Oh look Ms! Look who it is…Melissa!” Paulette pointed at me.
Britney’s eyes locked on mine and narrowed. I twitched. I didn’t want to confront anyone here tonight. What would happen if she knew how humiliated I’d been and told these sweet girls? What would happen if she confronted me? I twitched again. Then, biting back my pride, I waved to her. “Hello Britney. How nice to see you.” I forced a smile.
Britney and Paulette swaggered over. Paulette stood a foot or so behind Britney and held her coat. Britney looked at Clara, who lowered her eyes and blushed again.
“Hi Melissa.” Britney smirked knowingly. Her eyes flicked over my body from head to toe, coming to rest again, staring straight into my eyes.
She knew. I tried my hardest not to let those mocking eyes wither the tender, fragile shoots of my laboriously regained confidence. I marshalled my scant resources, reminding myself that I was indeed Melissa Windeyer. My status had been affirmed not half an hour ago by one of the leading Dommes in Chi town. Britney wasn’t even a glimmer in Justeen’s shadow. I reminded myself that I’d stared this bitch down before, that I’d won many more battles than I’d lost and that her wanton butterfly of a sub had begged for the privilege of worshiping me, the last time I’d seen her.
I steeled myself, knowing the pack – even these little nothings who’d been so pleased that I condescended to spend my time with them – would turn on me if I showed even a whisker of fear. I did my best to return Britney’s look. “How are you?” I resolved to be polite and not to make any mischief.
“Oh, I’m just fine Melissa.” She stared at me. I knew she was directly challenging me by not putting miss in front. “So is Paulette.” She caressed Paulette’s butt – another direct challenge. She knew Paulette had served me. “And you’re looking good too…better than the last time Paulette saw you, so she tells me.”
I swallowed hard. What had Paulette told her? She’d seen it all. She’d watched Brooke and Jimmy degrade me. She’d seen me as Jimmy left me – splayed out on a table, legs spread, head dangling over the side, mewling with need and laid out to be taken. She’d seen me taken too – time and again – that night. I glanced from Paulette to Britney and back again. The treacherous subbie had told Britney all that, alright. A word from either of them now would totally destroy my reputation.
I tried to change the subject. “Err…thank you Britney. You’re looking well, too. Can I introduce you to my friends here?" I knew I needed to change the subject.
“Yes dear. Please do.”
I sucked in my breath. Britney called me ‘dear’. She was patronising me – me! Melissa Windeyer! I let her get away with it, and I was more than polite in return. “Clara, Patti and Jane…meet Ms Britney.” The ‘Ms’ almost stuck in my throat
The girls greeted Britney and Paulette politely and all the time, Britney’s eyes never shifted from that unnerving, constant gaze. Her broadening smirk told me that hearing me – the one and only Melissa Windeyer – call her Ms Britney was causing her confidence to soar. “Hi girls,” she said with a smile. Her eyes flicked around the table, then came to rest on mine again. “You seem to have found a home here, Melissa.” She looked at Clara, then back at me. “You and her are even dressed alike…isn’t that cute?”
I ground my teeth. For this tramp to dare compare me to Clara was the height of insolence. I had to work hard to restrain myself, firmly reminding myself that I wasn’t here to fight.
“It’s great to meet you all,” continued Britney. “As Paulette will tell you, any friend of Melissa’s is a friend of mine…sometimes a very intimate friend.” She caressed Paulette’s butt possessively again, still staring at me. “Have you girls ever been to Chatro?”
“Oh no Ms Britney! Never…and after what Ms Justeen and Ms Melissa told me tonight, I would never go.” Clara shuddered.
“We’d be too afraid, with all we've heard about it,” agreed Jane.
“What are you…wimps?” Paulette rolled her eyes. “Grow some backbone. What do you think a Domme is for? She protects you.” She looked at me. “I knew I just had to serve Melissa when I saw how she went after the wannabe who used her subbie Holly. Melissa just destroyed…what did you call her? the ‘fluff ball’? And I did serve her.” She licked her lips.
Patti piped up. “You’re a little rude. If you served her, you should refer to her as Ms Melissa.”
Britney answered for Paulette. “Girl, there are things that happen at Chatro, that you haven’t heard about…things that changed Paulette’s mind. They might change yours too – about the one and only Melissa Windeyer.” Britney may have been answering Patti but her eyes never left mine.
The blood drained from my face. I looked at Britney. “Don't…please, don't.” I begged. Yes, I – Melissa Windeyer – begged this blonde bimbo whose only asset was her big bust. I felt my own chest heaving and realised I was gasping for breath. Britney’s eyes dropped down and seemed to bore into my stomach – my weakness. She knew.
She looked up again. “Oh my…we’ve been so busy talking that I’m thirsty. Paulette hasn’t had anything to drink either. Melissa, be a dear and get us some drinks, will you? Paulette will have a bourbon and Pepsi and I’ll have a white wine.” She turned to the others. “Are you girls ready for another drink too?”
I gaped at the thought that Britney expected me – the one and only Melissa Windeyer – to buy drinks for her and Paulette, not to mention the rest of these subbies who sat around me. Then she looked at me again and her eyes reminded me I had no alternative. She’d tell the girls what had happened at Ronaldo if I didn’t.
But what if I did? What then? My mind whirled. What else would she expect me to do? I had to cut my losses. I had to get her away from the subbies. I rose from my seat. “Britney, come and help me carry them back, please.”
Britney’s voice was so cold that it froze me in my tracks. “I told you to get them, Melissa.”
This was going too far. She had gone beyond challenging – now she was insulting me. Patti looked up at me. I felt my influence ebb as she stared at me, confusion written on her face. “Britney, I can't carry all of them. Please, come and help…or would you girls come and get your own? We'll leave Britney to mind our table.”
Clara and Jane didn’t move. They looked at Britney with awe. She nodded to them. “You two go with her,” she ordered. Only then did they get up. We walked to the bar, the two girls looking at me, at each and over their shoulders at Britney, Paulette and Patti. They said nothing, not even in answer to my questions. We got the drinks, returned and put them down on the table.
I returned and put down the drinks.
Clara and Jane resumed their seats but Britney was sitting in the chair I’d occupied a few moments ago. She sipped her drink, then raised her glass to me. “Funny how things change, you know. You’ve shown tonight that what used to be, isn't so anymore. I remember you staring me down when we last met. I went away, seething with my tail between my legs. I knew I didn’t have a hope against you. Now though, the one and only Melissa Windeyer isn’t what she was. No, now it’s you who’s seething inwardly. It’s me who is staring you down.”
I shuddered as I stood before her – before all of them. Everything she said was true. How had this happened to me – as she said, the one and only Melissa Windeyer? I summoned every bit of courage, of determination I had. “What are you saying, Britney?”
She stood up, drink in hand, glaring at me. “Melissa Windeyer, your day is over. You’re finished. You’re nothing but a subbie…a subbie slut who takes it on her back in a crowded bar from anyone and everyone.”
I wasn’t taking that from anyone. Swinging from the hips, I whipped my right hand up in a hard slap at her face, hoping to hit her hard. I did. Britney’s head rocked back. I smiled for the first time since I’d seen her walk into the bar, and launched a left handed slap which hit home just as hard on her other cheek. She gasped, then her face twisted in fury. She yelled, “You bitch!” and flung the contents of her glass in my face.
I blinked and spluttered, trying to clear the stinging alcohol from my eyes. I wasn’t ready for her as she threw herself at me, seizing my hair and driving me to the floor. But I did – just – manage to raise my knee as she pushed me down, hoping to hammer her scrawny stomach. I landed hard on my back and I grunted with pain. My knee glanced off her side instead of hitting her gut but still it knocked her sideways so she didn’t land on top of me as I knew she had wanted.
“Ha!” Paulette sxxxxxxxed evilly. “It didn’t take long for Ms Britney to put Melissa where she belongs…on her back! All she needs now is to make her spread her legs. I bet she won’t have much trouble getting Melissa to do that either. She has lots of experience.”
Britney sprang to her hands and knees. The bitch wanted to fling herself on top of me. I rolled but she landed half on me, pinning my arm. I squirmed, rolled and shoved, but still she had my arm fast.
“You said you wanted to serve Ms Melissa!” Patti was shocked. “No one talks about Dommes like that.”
“I was wrong,” replied Paulette. “Melissa’s no Domme. She fooled me into thinking she was, by doing what all bullies do…picking on a weak victim. She knew Heidi…the girl she beat…was weak. Melissa can’t deal with a real Domme. She’s a quitter. She’ll kneel to Ms Britney soon enough…you watch.”
I could hardly believe that Paulette would say such things. Yes, I knew Heidi was weak – everyone knew that – but I didn’t pick on her because of that. I confronted her because I wanted to protect Holly, just as Paulette had said earlier. Paulette would pay for her lies later. Right now I had to deal with Britney.
I punched her under the ribs with my free arm – my left arm. Britney seemed to slither away from me slightly, so I had a little more of my body free. Wrapping my free arm around her waist to hold her tight, pushing the left side of my body up, I got a roll started. The blonde fool hadn’t realised what I was doing and I rolled her onto her side before she could do anything about it.
I wormed my right arm out from under her and looked at my foe. Her dress was ripped and one boob had fallen free. She slapped at my face. I leaned back and the slap missed. I slapped back and clawed at her bare boob. She squealed. I clawed again, scoring red furrows on her soft flesh – served the slut right for flaunting herself. She rolled away.
“Ms Justeen said Ms Melissa wins more fights than she loses, that she mixes with the best fighters in the bars.” Patti was still arguing in my defense. I resolved to reward her later.
“So? Melissa fooled Ms Justeen too, then. Just like she fooled me. Just like she fooled Ms Britney, till tonight. Ms Britney called her out for what she is…brittle. Break Melissa’s shell open…and that’s easy to do…and you expose the room whore inside.”
Paulette was so going to pay. How dare this little nothing, this coat check girl try to undermine me? I knew it was Britney’s doing of course, that she’d prompted Paulette to say such things, to belittle me and shake my confidence – a cheap trick that no true Domme would ever stoop to, and which only proved Britney’s true colours.
First I’d deal with Britney, then her little minion. Britney and I had both gotten to our knees, just over an arm's reach from each other. My skirt had ridden up a little and allowed my long, powerful legs to remain free. Britney’s was hiked up around her waist and I could see her shaven snatch. As I suspected – no panties. Cheap slut.
I lunged, almost throwing myself on her. I seized a fistful of her hair and hauled on it to check my lunge. I'd taken a risk. Had the silly bitch moved, I'd have missed and hit the floor, but she just wasn't smart enough to outwit me. Few people are.
