Jane and Marilyn, two friends who insisted they weren't rivals, changed their tune one day when the built-up tension on a movie set about how the tone should go and what one character should do boiled over.
Jane, with her fiery red hair and piercing green eyes, stood her ground, refusing to back down from her vision for the scene."The character needs to convey strength and independence," she insisted, her voice dripping with determination.
Marilyn, blonde curls bouncing as she tossed her head, scoffed. "Strength? Please, darling. It's all about vulnerability and seduction." She batted her eyelashes, a smirk playing on her lips.
Jane's words hung in the air, a poisonous dart aimed straight at Marilyn's heart. The blonde's eyes flashed with anger, her porcelain skin flushing a delicate shade of pink."How dare you," she hissed, her voice low and venomous. "You think you're so much better than me, don't you? With your 'strength' and 'independence'" Marilyn stepped closer, her perfume a sweet, intoxicating cloud."Let me remind you, Jane, that seduction is a weapon far more powerful than any display of false bravado."
The crew watched with bated breath, some with morbid fascination, others with barely concealed excitement. Whispers and giggles filled the air as people placed bets and fingers crossed, hoping for an explosive confrontation.
Marilyn's eyes widened, her lips parting in shock at Jane's cruel words. For a moment, she seemed at a loss for words, her chest heaving with anger and humiliation. Then, as a switch flipped, her expression turned icy, her eyes hardening into chips of blue ice.
"You're a bitter, jealous woman," Marilyn said, her voice low and controlled, each word dripping with venom. "You're terrified that I'll surpass you, that I'll steal the spotlight and leave you in my dust. Well, newsflash, darling. It's already happening." She turned to the crew, a dazzling smile plastered on her face, as fake as the sets around them.
Marilyn's head snapped to the side, the sound of the slap echoing through the studio like a gunshot. A collective gasp rippled through the crew, their eyes widening in shock and disbelief. Marilyn stood frozen, her hand pressed against her burning cheek, her eyes wide with surprise and hurt.
Jane's hand trembled at her side. She had crossed a line, and she knew it. The studio would have had her head for this, but in the heat of the moment, she hadn't cared. All she had seen was red; she had felt the overwhelming urge to hurt Marilyn as she had hurt her.
Slowly, Marilyn turned back to face Jane, her eyes shining with unshed tears. But when she spoke, her voice was steady, her words measured and deliberate."You're finished," she said, her voice low and deadly."
Marilyn's hand cracked across Jane's face with a force that sent the redhead staggering back. The sound of the slap echoed through the studio, a brutal reminder of the violence that had just unfolded.
Jane's cheek burned, the imprint of Marilyn's hand already blooming into a vivid red mark. For a moment, she could only stare at Marilyn, her mind reeling with disbelief and humiliation. Marilyn stood tall, her chest heaving. Her blonde hair was disheveled, a few strands sticking to her flushed face.
Jane's hand connected with Marilyn's cheek with a force that sent the blonde reeling.
Marilyn's cheek bore the imprint of Jane's hand, the skin already turning a mottled red. She stared at Jane, her eyes blazing "You bitch," she spat, her voice low and venomous."You fucking bitch."
Jane stood her ground, her chest heaving. Her hand stung from the impact, but she welcomed the pain, relished it even.
Marilyn's hands cracked across Jane's face in quick succession, the slaps echoing through the studio like gunshots. Jane's head snapped back with each blow. The crew watched in horror as the two actresses engaged in a brutal, vicious slap fight.
Marilyn advanced, her hands clenched into fists, her blonde hair wild and untamed. "You think you're so tough?" she snarled."You think you can beat me?"
Jane's fist connected with Marilyn's jaw with a sickening crack, sending the blonde flying backward. Marilyn's body slammed into the prop table, sending it crashing to the ground in a tangle of wood and fabric. She landed in a heap, her blonde hair sprawled across the debris.
Jane stood over Marilyn, her chest heaving, her knuckles bruised and bleeding. She looked like a wild animal, her eyes feral and untamed."You're done," she said, her voice low and deadly."You're fucking done."
Marilyn pushed herself up, her hand pressed to her jaw, her eyes filled with tears of pain and humiliation. Her eyes locked on Jane's."You're going to regret this," she said, her voice hoarse and strained.
Jane laughed, a harsh, bitter sound."Regret what? Standing up to you? To your bullshit and your games?"She stepped closer, her fists clenched at her sides. "I'm done playing, Marilyn. Done being your fucking doormat."
Marilyn's spit hit Jane's face, a viscous glob that slid down her cheek. Jane recoiled, her hand flying up to wipe it away. In that moment of distraction, Marilyn lunged, her fingers curling around a broken piece of the prop table. With a snarl, she swung the makeshift weapon at Jane's head, the wood cracking against her temple with a sickening thud. Jane staggered, her eyes rolling back in her head as she crumpled to the ground, unconscious. Marilyn stood over her, panting, the broken table leg still clutched in her hand. Her blonde hair was wild, and her face was streaked with tears. She looked like a madwoman, a
She tossed the broken table leg aside and turned back to Jane's unconscious form. "She crouched down, grabbing Jane by the hair and dragging her towards the center of the set.
Marilyn's fist connected with Jane's jaw, the sound of the impact echoing through the studio. Jane's head snapped to the side, but she didn't go down. Marilyn grinned. "That's it, bitch," she snarled."Stay awake. I'm just getting started."She hit Jane again, and again, her fists flying in a blur of rage and hatred. Jane's face was a mess of bruises, but she refused to stay down. She stumbled, she swayed, but she kept her feet, kept fighting back. The crew watched as the two actresses beat each other senseless, their bodies crashing against the sets, knocking over props and equipment. It was a brutal, savage spectacle.
Jane and Marilyn traded blows, their fists crashing against each other's jaws in a brutal, relentless rhythm. Each punch was met with a grunt or a cry, but neither woman fell. They were locked in a grim, determined stalemate, their faces swelling and bruising, their eyes wild and unfocused.
Jane's fingers closed around Marilyn's collar, the fabric tearing as she pulled her close. Marilyn gasped, her eyes widening as she felt the strap of her dress snap. She didn't have time to react before Jane's fist slammed into her chest, again and again, the blows landing squarely on her breasts. Marilyn cried out, a high, piercing sound that echoed through the studio, tears streaming down her cheeks. But still, she refused to fall. She grabbed Jane's hair, pulling her head back and exposing her throat. Her nails raked across Jane's skin as she fought to regain the upper hand.
The two women's fists pounded against each other's chests, their knuckles bruised. The fabric of their dresses tore, the tops ripping away to expose their breasts. They didn't stop, didn't hesitate, driven by a primal, furious need to dominate and destroy.
Jane and Marilyn crashed into each other, their bodies colliding with a bone-jarring impact. They fell to the floor, rolling and grappling, their limbs tangled and their fists flying. Prop chairs were knocked aside, splintering under the force of their fall. A bookcase groaned and then collapsed, sending a shower of books and debris raining down on the struggling women. They ignored it, lost in their furious, desperate fight, their bodies slick with sweat as they clawed and punched and kicked, determined to murder each other.
Marilyn grabbed Jane's wrists, twisting them painfully behind her back. she shoved Jane's face into her breasts, pressing her head down with all her strength. Jane screamed, the sound muffled against Marilyn's flesh, as she struggled to break free. Marilyn moaned, a twisted, perverse sound of pleasure, as she felt Jane's panting breaths against her sensitive skin. She ground Jane's face into her chest, relishing the pain and humiliation she was inflicting.
As Marilyn's breasts engulfed her face. She could feel the soft, pillowy flesh yielding under her nose and mouth. She bit down hard on Marilyn's nipple, eliciting a piercing scream from her tormentor. Marilyn stumbled back, releasing Jane's wrists as she clutched at her injured breast. Jane spun around, her hair whipping through the air, and launched herself at Marilyn. They crashed to the ground, The set was chaos, equipment toppled and shattered, as the two legendary beauties fought like wild animals, their clothes tearing and their bodies bruising in the brutal melee.
Marilyn's perfectly manicured nails raked across Jane's cheek, leaving angry red welts.
She managed to grab a handful of Marilyn's platinum blonde hair, yanking her head back and exposing the pale column of her throat. With a snarl, Jane sank her teeth into Marilyn's neck. Marilyn shrieked, a high-pitched, hysterical sound, as she clawed desperately at Jane's face. Their cries of pain and rage echoed through the soundstage, mingling with the crunch of breaking glass and the splintering of wood as they tore into each other with savage abandon.
Their bodies entwined, limbs tangled, as they rolled across the debris-strewn floor. Marilyn's silk panties rode up, exposing the curve of her rear, while Jane's lace underwear strained against her muscular thighs. They grunted and gasped, each trying to gain the upper hand, their breasts heaving and their hair wild. Marilyn managed to straddle Jane's waist, pinning her hips down with her knees. She leaned forward, her blonde locks falling around them like a curtain, and spat in Jane's face. "You fucking cxnt," she hissed, her voice low and venomous. Jane bucked her hips, trying to throw Marilyn off, but the blonde held fast, grinding her pelvis against Jane's in a crude, humiliating gesture. Their panties were soaked, the fabric clinging to their intimate areas, as the line between violence and arousal blurred.
Marilyn, her eyes rolling back as she climaxed violently. With a shuddering cry, she yanked her panties down and pressed her pussy against Jane's face, coating Jane's cheeks, nose, and mouth. Jane gagged and sputtered, trying desperately to turn her head away, but Marilyn held her fast, rubbing her sensitive folds against Jane's trapped face.
As the last spasms of her orgasm subsided, Marilyn collapsed forward, panting heavily, her body draped over Jane's like a limp ragdoll. Their mingled fluids soaked into the torn fabric of their underwear, staining it an obscene shade of pink.
DRAW
