LOVE SLAVE
By The Raven (raven@ravensword.com)
Al's wife Peggy was called "Poundcakes" because she loved to fight women 


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Summary:  Al's wife Peggy was called "Poundcakes" because 
she loved to fight women in their Seattle home and pummel 
them to unconsciousness.  Al thought he knew what love was,  
with his rough and tough red-haired wife, and their blonde sexy 
slave, Amanda.  But Al never knew what he was missing until 
a Filipina catfighter named Camille challenged both Peg and 
Amanda to a tag-team bikini battle in Al's garage...


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All rights reserved.
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RavensWord Publishing fiction is restricted to adults, age 21 
and older. If you are a minor, you are prohibited from reading 
this work.  IF YOU'RE NOT YET 21, IF ADULT MATERIAL OFFENDS YOU, 
IF YOU ARE ACCESSING THIS FROM ANY COUNTRY OR LOCALE WHERE ADULT 
MATERIAL IS SPECIFICALLY PROHIBITED BY LAW, DO NOT READ THIS STORY. 
THERE ARE SCENES OF GRAPHIC SEX AND VIOLENCE IN THIS FICTION.


Al's pecker nearly leaped out his pants, when the tallest, 
sexiest Filipina he had ever seen in his life walked out of 
his living room.
	"DAMN!"  Al gasped.
	Camille stood 5'9" in her bare feet.  Al saw no 
sign of fat on her toned body, which was in between 
slender and muscular, but looked very fine in a simple, 
black thong bikini.  Her supple breasts swayed as she 
walked toward him--real, not fake.  Her face was also 
very beautiful.  She looked as graceful as a dancer, 
someone who might be descended from royalty.
	"Where is your bitch?"  Camille said, not asking, 
but demanding.  Her eyes were blazing and Al knew she 
lusted for battle.
	"In the garage," Al gasped.  His stomach 
tightened as he thought of his wife going into mortal 
combat with this femizon.  "Through here."  
He opened the door for her to walk through.  He 
studied Camille's nearly bare buns as she walked 
through it--and saw the Tigress tattoo on her right butt 
check.
	It's true, Al thought to himself.  She's from the 
Catfighter's Academy in Manila.  Same place as that 
Tara bitch from the Catsport tape.  Holy shit, 
Poundcakes, what have you got into now?
	His wife, Peg, was waiting in their homemade 
arena.  Thick mats covered almost the entire garage 
floor, big enough for two cars, but now containing only 
tools, a workbench, shelves, and three catfighters.  Four 
portable heaters were placed in the corners to ward off 
the cold winter air.  Snow had arrived for Christmas in 
Seattle, and was slow to disappear.  The heaters made 
the room bearable for the women in their bikinis, 
although the fighting would soon overheat their bodies.
	"Bout time ya got here," Peg said to Camille.  
"Thought ya chickened out!"  Al's redheaded wife, who 
had just turned 40, stood up in one corner of the room, 
dusting off her cigarette into a Folgers coffee can.  
Peggy was shorter than Camille, 5'7", but her body was 
stockier, her shoulders broader, and her demeanor was 
more rough and working-class.  Peggy was dressed in 
an orange bikini.  Her pale skin was blemished with 
freckles and moles.  Peg's butt and legs were a bit 
flabby as well.  She was not someone who could stand 

up to a pro on first inspection.
	But what Peg lacked in her body, she made for 
in her raw strength and cruelty.  Many a woman had 
fought the red-head in their garage, only to have Peg's 
meaty, powerful fists slam into their breasts or cunt, 
hammering them over and over again, until they were 
too weak to even submit.  During the past three years, 
she had never once lost a fight.
	Peg was the unofficial Mistress of her suburban 
Catpack.  The women called her "Poundcakes" because 
of her relentless joy in using her meaty fists.
	Her hands were covered with workout finger-
less gloves, to allow clawing with her razor sharp nails.  
Inside the gloves were metal studs, which would amplify 
Peg's blows tenfold.
	Camille walked around Peg, looking at her 
gloves.  The Filipina's jet-black long hair was tied in a 
ponytail, which danced around her back.
	She knows Peggy's got something hidden in 
there, Al thought.  Oh, shit.
	"You think you can take me with those?"  
Camille laughed.  "I'll let you keep them.  I've fought 
cunts that used much worse.  Your husband will want 
me even more when I take both of you down with my 
bare claws."
	The Filipina smiled back at him.  He felt his cock 
stiffen up again.
	Al wasn't rich, educated, or particularly good 
looking.  He was a semi-decent middle-class joe, a 
middle-aged construction worker who showed up on 
time everyday at Boeing.  He assumed it was a racial 
thing, a challenge to take away a white woman's 
husband, a way to get Peg's dander up during the fight.
	The arrangement was to have the Filipina fight 
both Peg and Amanda, as long as the two tag teamed 
each other.  Al was supposed to keep everything on the 
up and up.  Peg wanted him to let them cheat.
	Amanda stood in the corner, glaring at Camille, 
her hands on her bare hips, standing tall in a white bikini. 
Peg's favorite slave was blond, about 35 years old, a 
married woman who lived in the neighborhood.   She 
had made the mistake of picking a fight with Peg over 
garbage, and wound up being Peg's slave for the next 
two years.  To Al, Amanda looked much like that actress 
from the TV sitcom Growing Pains, Joanna Kerns. This 
was a revenge catfight for the blonde.  
	Amanda had met Camille in a health club last 
week.  The blonde had taken the Filipina to her home for 
what she thought would be an easily won wrestling 
match and an afternoon of fun lesbian sex.  Instead, 
Amanda wound up being thoroughly beaten and 
dominated.  The dark-skinned bitch had found out who 
Amanda's Mistress was and had demanded a fight with 
her as soon as possible.  The stakes would be high, total 
slavery to the loser, for an entire year.
	Peg loved fighting, but she had never fought a 
non-white woman before.  Being a bit of a racist, she 
readily agreed to pummel the Filipina to 
unconsciousness.
	Camille shifted her eyes to Peg's pupils.  "Which 
one of you goes first?"	
	"ME!"  Peg said, and spat a huge mound of 
mucas into Camille's eyes, blinding the Filipina.  
She quickly grabbed a fistful of Camille's hair 
with her left hand, and slammed her right fist into the 
Filipina's right eye.  Al could hear the sharp impact of the 
metal stud colliding with the Filipina's cheekbone.
	"GO PEGGY!"  Amanda shouted.  "Take this 
cunt down!"  
	Peg roared and hammered her fist down on the 
Filipina's face again.  The woman screamed.  Peg's fist 
reared upward again for another blow.  Camille shifted 
her body forward and hugged Peg, avoiding the fist.  Her 
hands reached around Peg's body to wipe the spit from 
her eyes.
	"HANG ON HONEY, IT'S GONNA BE A BUMPY 
RIDE!"  Peg shouted.  She grabbed Camille's buns with 
her claws.  Al salivated as saw blood drops appear 
immediately.  His wife lifted the Filipina completely off 
her feet.  The red head ran forward and rammed the 
Filipina's back into the garage door.
	The door thundered with the impact.  Camille 
screamed as a metal bar on the door hit her spine.
	Al preyed for two things: that the fight wasn't 
over this quickly, and that the neighbors wouldn't notice 
the noise.
	Peg backed up and ran the Filipina into the wall 
a second time.  This blow was even stronger than the 
first.  Al saw a crack appear in the door.
	"Har!"  Peg laughed.  "You ain't worth shit."
	She backed up for another run at the door.
	Camille's legs squeezed hard against Peggy's 
ribcage.  She let go of the redhead's shoulders and 
dropped her upper body down to the floor.  She grabbed 
one of Peggy's feet and tripped the white woman.  
Peggy tumbled over Camille's body and rolled violently 
into the garage door.
	Camille quickly rolled onto her feet, and 
slammed the heel of her foot into Peggy's face while it 
was trapped against the door.  Kick after kick, once, 
twice, three times, and then Al heard a crunching sound-
-the cartilage in his wife's nose breaking.
	"Goddamn you!"  Peg cried, and caught 
Camille's foot with her hands to avoid another blow.  
Blood streamed out of her nose.  She stood up slowly, 
keeping her grip on Camille's foot, while the Filipina 
hopped around on one leg.  "C'Mon, Mandy!  I gotta stop 

this bleedin'." 
	Sweat beaded down Camille's face as Amanda 
tagged her mistress.  Her right eye was halfway shut.  
She hopped on the mat, but Peg kept her right leg in the 
air.
	"Payback time, sweet-cheeks!"  Amanda 
exclaimed, and grabbed Camille's left arm.  The blonde 
rammed her knee in Camille's cunt twice, and the 
Filipina landed on her back, clutching her groin.
	The blond who looked a TV mom leapt up into 
air and landed her feet on Camille's breasts.  The blow 
made the Filipina gasp, but she quickly grabbed hold of 
the blonde's ankles.  Amanda lost her balance and fell 
on her butt.  Amanda pressed her attack even though 
she was sitting down.  Her right foot slammed down into 
Camille's breasts  again and again.  The Filipina rolled 
over onto her stomach to protect herself.
	Amanda sat upright and brought her knees up 
on the base of Camille's spine.  It gave Al shivers as he 
thought of all three of them straddling the Filipina in bed.  
The blonde grabbed Camille's ponytail and pulled the 
Filipina's head back.  Her upper torso quickly followed.
	"How far back can ya go before it snaps, 
sweetie?"  Amanda taunted her.  "Better give up now."
	Camille groaned and her feet slapped the floor 
as she sought a way out of the hold.  More sweat 
covered her body.
	"She needs a little more convincin', Peg!"

	Al's wife was toweling off the blood from her 
nose.  "Keep her busy.  I'll be ready in a minute."
	Al's cock was big, aching for an orgy that he 
envisioned in his mind: him, Peg, Amanda, and a 
Camille sandwich.  An orgy that could last for a year.
	Camille grimaced, and one of her long arms 
reached backward to grab a handful of Amanda's blond 
hair.  She yanked, trying to flip the blond over her body, 
but sweat mingled in the hair that made her grip slippery.
	"Not today, cunt!"  Amanda laughed and brought 
her mouth down to bite Camille's neck.
	The Filipina groaned, shifted her weight, and 
flipped her body in a somersault, flipping the blonde off 
her back.
	Amanda rolled to her knees quickly, just as 
Camille was about to stand up.  The blond grabbed her 
arms around Camille's torso, squeezing her breasts and 
ribcage in a vise.  Camille got to her feet.  Amanda 
prevented her opponent from standing upright by 
maintaining the vise, and pressing her chest against 
Camille's back.
	"Grab her legs!"  Amanda called over to Peggy.
	"I'm comin'."  The red-head had stopped most of 
the blood flow and tossed the towel away.
	Camille grabbed Amanda's buns.  Her claws 
sunk deeply into the blonde's flesh, drawing blood.  
Amanda howled in pain.  The Filipina lifted Amanda off 
her feet and tossed her up in the air.  The blond nearly 
hit the ceiling.  Camille stood upright, caught Amanda in 
her arms, and brought the base of Amanda's spine 
crashing down into her knee.  It was a perfectly executed 
back-breaker.
	The blonde wailed in agony, and rolled away on 
the mat.
	Peg was back in the game now.  She had 
reached Camille from behind and grabbed the Filipina's 
ponytail.  She pulled her foe backward and smashed her 
fist into Camille's left breast.  
	The blow took Camille by surprise, and she 
stumbled backwards.  Peg's metal-laced gloves 
pounded into the Filipina's washboard stomach and 
broke down the wall of solid muscle.  The Filipina 
groaned as her abs collapsed. Breathless, Camille's 
head crumpled forward over her torso.
	"Welcome to Peggy's school!  Class is in 
session!"  Peg taunted.
	Al's precious Poundcakes sent a powerful 
uppercut into the Filipina's jaw.  Al could hear the sharp 
CHOK! sound in the still air of the garage and wondered 
if Camille's bone had shattered.  The Filipina's head 
recoiled upwards, spiking blood into the air, as Camille's 
teeth bit into her tongue.  Al watched the whole thing like 
it was a slow motion replay on ABC's Wide World of 
Sports.  Camille fell back onto the mat once more.  She 
looked nearly unconscious.
	"She ain't nothin!"  Peg roared, looking back at 
Al.  For days, he had warned his wife to be careful in this 
fight.  "HAR!"  she snorted, and leapt up into the air.
	Peg pounced on top of her foe.  Her body 
slammed on top of Camille, landing her knees into 
Filipina's stomach, right below the diaphragm.  Al saw 
Camille's head jerk up as the air was ejected from her 
lungs once again.  Peg spread her legs and pinned the 
Filipina's torso and right arm.
	Al knew all of his wife's moves, and this was her 
patented maneuver, that led to the end of all her fights.  
She would trap her prey, pinning them underneath her 
heavy body, while her fists slammed again and again 
into their cunt and tits.  This was the point where most 
women gave up--and that was when Peggy was not 
wearing the metal laced gloves that she now had on.
	The first blow landed in Camille's cunt.  The 
Filipina gasped as Poundcakes ground one of the studs 
against her clit.  Peg chortled and looked back towards 
her slaves.
	"Mangle that pussy," Amanda gasped, joining Al 
on the sideline.  She rubbed her back and looked at Al.  
"Think Peg will loan her out to me when she's had 
enough?"
	The second blow landed on Camille's left breast.  
She wailed this time.  Al prayed that the neighbors were 
in their homes with the TV volumes turned way up.
	Al took Amanda's hand and had her sit down on 
his lap.  His cock needed to rub against her bikini butt, 
even though he still had his jeans on.  "I reckon so."
	The third blow landed on Camille's right breast.  
	The Filipina screamed.
	Amanda wriggled her ass excited against Al's 
groin.  "She's gonna mop my floor every week.  I'm 
gonna dig my spiked heel into her ass while she does it."
	The fourth blow went back into Camille's cunt.
	Peg grabbed Camille's hair, cocking back her 
arm for a punch that would utterly demolish Camille's 
nose.  "I ain't even gonna let ya say `Uncle' sweetie, so 
don't even try."
	Camille's left-hand shot forward, deflected the 
blow, and grabbed Peg's wrist.  The move was so quick 
it jolted the red-head.  The Filipina jerked her right arm 
out from Peg's knee, and pulled Peg's other hand from 
her hair.
	Poundcakes quickly regained her composure. 
"Well, look who decided to fight back!"  Peg exclaimed, 
locked her fingers around Camille's, and pressed her 
body against the Filipina's arms. 
	It was a test of weight as well as strength, as 
Camille fought of a 200-pound woman on top of her 150-
pound body.  Camille forced her trembling arms up, inch 
by inch, and Al knew the woman had to be a serious 
weight lifter.  He saw his wife's mouth gape open in 
amazement as her foe pushed her arms up into the air.
	The Filipina wriggled her sweaty legs out from 
under the redhead's torso.  She wrapped them around 
Peggy's rib cage and squeezed vice-like once again. 
Peggy now sat upright, her air supply cut off.  The 
Filipina suddenly looked like a cobra to Al.  He became 
even more excited, watching her cunt rub up against his 
wife's belly. Peg's arms crumpled abruptly, and the 
Filipina pulled them back down with a twist.
	Peggy moaned in agony.  Al loved it.  He 
couldn't remember the last time someone had gotten the 
better of his little Poundcakes.
	Camille butted her forehead into Peg's nose and 
mouth, two hard times in a row.  Blood erupted like a 
geyser from Peggy's nose, dripping down into her 
mouth, spattering over the mats.
	"MANDA!"  Peggy shouted.  "Come over here 
and get this bitch!"  Her face looked even harsher with 
bloodied teeth.
	Al gulped hard as Amanda leapt off his lap and 
ran towards Camille.  "I'm gonna tear off her tits!"
	The Filipina rolled backwards, off of Peggy's 
body, onto her feet.  She moved with the precision of a 
gymnast.  She smiled slightly as Amanda tried to grab 
her, evading the blonde's hands with the gracefulness of 
a cat.
	Al grabbed a fresh towel and threw it over to his 
wife.
	"Stay still so I can get ya!"  Amanda shouted.
	Camille stopped moving.
	Amanda reached for her arm.
	Camille grabbed the blond's elbow with her left 
hand, and smashed the flat of her right hand into the 
joint.
	"You BITCH!"  Amanda wailed, "you broke my---
"
	Camille grabbed the blonde's hair with her 
hands and smashed Amanda's jaw into her knee.
	"Shut the fuck up, slave!"  Camille shouted.  
She put her foot on Amanda's cunt, and grabbed 
her wrists.  Camille fell backward, pulling the blonde up 
and over her body.  
	Amanda screamed, as she slammed backward 
into the garage door.  She fell down to the floor, nearly 
unconscious.  Al could see Mandy moving her right arm 
to move herself back into a corner.  It was not broken, 
merely sprained.
	The Filipina vaulted up onto her feet, turning to 
face Peg, who had just stood back up.
	Poundcakes tossed away her towel.  Blood was 
streaming down her face, but she didn't care.  Al knew 
that look on her face and what it meant: I am going to 
keep on until you are finished, even if it kills me.  It had 
been an awful long time since Al had seen that look.  It 
made him hornier than ever.
	Peggy spat out some blood and said:  "Ya got 
lucky once.  Ain't gonna happen twice.  Let's finish this."  
Her fists came up and she stalked around Camille, 
waiting for an opening.
	Now the Filipina smiled, broadly, as she stood in 
the center of the room calmly.  "I like your style.  Rough 
and unyielding."  
	Peg through a series of punches, most designed 
to fake out the Filipina, until she had an opening for the 
head.
	The Filipina blocked the punch and twirled inside 
of Peg's reach.  Al saw her claws flashing up and down 
across his wife's body.  She danced quickly backwards.
	Peg's body was bare.  Streaks of red, tattered 
flesh near her breasts and cunt.
	Camille smiled and lifted up her left hand.  She 
held what remained of Peg's bikini, top and bottom.
	Peggy roared and charged towards Camille.
	What came next was unlike anything Al had ever 
seen, except in the Catsport 92 tape.
	The Filipina's leg arched up, back around her 
body, and whipped the ball of her foot in Peg's bloody 
jaw.
	The dreaded SnapDragon kick collided with 
Peggy's head, whipping her face to one side.  Blood 
drops arched through the air, spattering the tools, the 
workbench, Al's clothes.
	Peggy took a step backwards.  Her head moved 
around groggily.  "Fucking shit!"
	"You still stand!"  Camille exclaimed.  
"Excellent!"
	She spun around and kicked Peggy in the head 
once again.
	His wife's blood rained over his garage.  Al felt 
afraid for Peggy, but he knew that even he, a big, strong, 
construction worker, who weighed 230 pounds, would 
have trouble stopping a world class catfighter.
	Peggy stumbled forward.  Her meaty hands 
lashed out and grabbed both sides of the Filpina's head.  
Poundcakes' face became a contortion of hatred and 
she squeezed Camille's skull with all of her strength.

	"I'M GONNA POP YER NIGGER HEAD LIKE A 
WATERMELON!"  Peggy screamed.  Her lips trembled 
as spoke.  The redhead's eyes were slits drowning in 
blood.
	Camille screamed.  She was obviously in great 
pain.  She squirmed to get away from Peggy, but Al's 
Poundcakes had the Filipina locked in a death grip.
	Al's cock was ready to explode inside his pants.  
Sometimes he fantasized about his wife killing another 
woman in combat.  He never thought it would happen in 
real life...until now.
	Then Camille steadied her feet on the mat and 
assumed a strange fighting stance that Al had never 
seen before.  She stood one inch before Peg and quickly 
rammed her fist into the redhead's chest.
	The blow made Poundcakes take a step 
backward.  She lost her grip on Camille's head.
	The Filipina quickly landed another such blow on 
the redhead's chest.  Peggy's body flew up in the air.  
Her back collided with the garage door, the bar hitting 
her spine.  Peggy rolled onto the floor unconscious, next 
to Amanda.
	The vibrations on the garage door lasted for 60 
seconds. As it slowly rattled to a stop, Al realized the 
impossible had happened.  Poundcakes had lost her first 
catfight in many years.
	Camille slowly stood up and faced Al.  She 
looked at him for a moment, a strange and menacing 
look through her right eye that was half shut, as if 
warning him not to attack her.  
	The Filipina spit blood onto his wife's body.  Peg 
would want to kill the Filipina just for that, if she could 
see it.
	Al didn't know what to do.  Part of him wanted to 
help Peg and Amanda.  Part of him wanted to grab the 
Filipina and handcuff her to a bed.  And another part of 
him...was glad that the dark-skinned woman had kicked 
his wife's butt.
	He could do nothing but look at Camille's 
bruised, but still sexy, body.  Her breasts were slightly 
black and blue.  The Filipina smiled when she realized 
that he was helpless to move against her.  Al could see 
that her lips were cracked and bleeding.  Blood trickled 
from her forehead down her cheeks.  She stretched her 
body, relieving the kinks in her muscles, and with a 
sudden snap, released the bikini from her body.
	Al remembered all the times he had jacked off 
watching the Catsport tape.  He thought it was all 
staged, fake.  He never believed that professional 
catfighters really existed, only butch bullies like his wife.  
Camille was the real thing, all of his fantasies, and then 
some more.
	She stood nude in the garage, uncaring of the 
two women who lay in unconscious heaps behind her on 
the mats.
	"Water," Camille gasped.  "And the towel".
	Al grabbed a water bottle that he had already 
prepared.  His hand was shaking as he threw it over to 
Camille.
	The Filipina ripped off the bottle top and sucked 
down the cold liquid.  She gasped in pleasure when her 
thirst was sated and doused the rest of hot body with the 
water.  Her face looked better after the blood was 
washed away.  Al handed her a towel and watched 
Camille dry her body off.  His penis was aching in his 
pants to be set free.
	Camille released her hair from the restraining 
ponytail.  She shook her head and the fine mane of 
black hair bounced against her bare back.  
	"I want my prize," she motioned behind her 
back, over to Amanda. Her smile was deliciously satanic.
	The blonde had been watching her quietly, 
mouth wide open.  Al could see that Amanda was in 
shock.  She could not believe that Poundcakes had been 
whipped--anymore than Al could.  She said nothing until 
Camille walked over and grabbed a fistful of Amanda's 
blond hair.
	"Nooooo," Amanda protested.  Tears began to 
well up in her eyes.  "I can't take your fucking--"
	Camille pulled on Amanda's hair and stood her 
up.  "I told you before: Shut the Fuck Up, SLAVE!"
Camille's claws raked down Amanda's body.  
	The blonde's bikini tore off her body like wet toilet paper.  
The Filipina's precision was excellent, as only a few 
scratches were evident on Amanda's chest.
	Amanda wailed.  
	Camille threw Amanda down, flat against the 
mat, on her stomach.  The Filipina dived on top of the 
blonde's back.
	Al watched as the blonde tried to resist the 
Filipina.  Her arms reached back to claw at Camille's 
face.  Her body writhed on the mat and tried to throw 
Camille off her back.

	"GODDAMIT AL!"  Amanda screamed.  "Get this 
cunt off me!  You don't know what she--"
Camille's mouth bit into Amanda's neck and the 
blonde screamed.
	The Filipina gained control of the blonde in that 
instant.  Powerful arms locked down Amanda's weaker 
limbs flat on the mat.  Her supple legs coiled around 
Amanda's thighs and spread them apart, exposing her 
cunt.  Al saw Camille's bare snatch smack against 
Amanda's vagina.
	Camille was fucking Amanda as if she were a 
man.
	The Filipina looked at Al and said:  "Get naked.  
Let's seal your slavery to me with a fuck!"  Again, there 
was that satanic smile.
	He couldn't get his clothes off quickly enough.  
The swelling in his penis made it fly upward as soon as 
he removed his boxers.  He approached Camille, saw 
her firm buns gyrating as she pumped herself against 
Amanda's ass.
	"Come on!"  Camille yelled.
	Al lay down on top of her.  His dick lay flat 
against the Filipina's buttocks.  They felt like two smooth 
bowling balls.  He jammed it in-between the crack in her 
ass and let the pressure engorge his cock even bigger.
	"Ahhhhh," Camille gasped, and wiggled her hips, 
stimulating Al even more.  Suddenly, the Filipina 
stopped, and stuck her ass upward in the air.  "Give me 
your chakra!"
	Al didn't know what the hell Chakra was, but 
assumed it was a Filipino word that must have meant, 
"cock".  Camille's vagina was exposed, calling out to 
him.  He wedged the tip of his dick into her snatch, which 
was juicy and wet.
	"Don't, Al!"  Amanda yelled.
	"SHUT UP!"  Camille shouted, and slapped 
Amanda's face flat against the mat.  "Jam it in!"
	That last bit of domination turned Al on even 
more.  He thrust his penis deep into Camille's cunt.  The 
Filipina gasped again in pleasure, and lowered her hips 
back down against Amanda's buttocks.  Al's dick was 
nice and tight inside, and it wasn't coming out until she 
was done.
	Al kept on thrusting again and again.  He never 
had sex with any other race before, never saw his wife 
get beaten before, and never had touched the skin of a 
woman so beautiful.  He marveled at Camille's fine body 
dominating the blond, as he heaved his prick inside the 
woman wrestler again and again.
	Camille groaned over and over, "Good slave.  
Don't stop, Al..."
	She reached back and pulled his neck down.  
They kissed at an awkward angle.  Her tongue wanted to 
swallow him whole.  Blood mingled with saliva, and for 
an instant Al thought about AIDS, then let it go.  
At that moment, Amanda's body seemed to 
have a short spasm underneath Camille's waist.  It was 
like there was an electrical charge of energy that passed 
from Al to Camille to Amanda at that moment, but surely, 
it was all in Al's weird imagination.
	Camille stopped kissing Al and lay flat against 
Amanda's back.  She started kissing the blonde's back, 
neck, and cheeks over and over.  "Yes, yes, my dear 
slave, it's pleasure, sheer pleasure, to be inside you 
again."
	Amanda had stopped protesting and now was 
groaning in as much pleasure as Camille was.
	Al's dick was as big as a two by four.  He thrust 
harder and harder, and Camille kept urging him on.  
Camille's hips rocked up and down to slam Al's cock 
down her vagina with even more force than he had 
intended.  The lady liked her sex rough.  He grabbed her 
sweaty buns and tried to control Camille's rhythm.
	With each pelvic gyration, Amanda's body 

recoiled as well.  Al had assumed that Camille was using 
her hands somehow in Amanda's cunt.
	The construction worker grew more and more 
excited.  Before he came, Al had one thought: Let me 
die now, because this is heaven.
	His penis exploded furiously as Camille's 
smooth buns slammed against his genitals faster than 
ever before.
	Camille shouted:  "GODDESS!"  
Her hips kept rocking back and forth, prolonging 
Al's orgasm.  It seemed to go on for a minute, almost 
forever.
	Amanda was screaming her head off.

	Finally Al stopped coming.  He felt exhausted 
and rolled off of Camille's back.  His whole body was 
covered in sweat.  His dick, balls, and genital hair were 
covered in Camille's pussy juice.  He looked over at Peg, 
lying in a broken heap on the mat across the garage.  He 
watched his wife slowly start to wake up.  Al was glad 
that she was alive, but knew that somehow after today, 
things between them would never be the same again.
	"OH MY GOD!  MISTRESS!  PLEASE STOP!"
	It was Amanda's voice.  Al looked back at the 
pair of lovers.
	Camille was still pumping her pelvis against 
Amanda's ass.  She had the blonde's arms wrapped up 
in a half nelson.  Her cunt slammed down on top of 
Amanda's ass as if Camille had a penis of her own.
	"I demand TOTAL SUBMISSION!"  Camille 
shouted.  Her mouth was in a grimace of determination.
	"I SUBMIT!"  Amanda wailed.  Tears were 
streaming down her cheeks.  "I SUBMIT I SUBMIT I 
SUBMIT OH MY GOOOODDD!!!!"
	Camille's pelvis slammed down into Amanda's 
ass one final time.  The Filipina's hips rocked back and 
forth--exactly as if there WAS a penis drilling into 
Amanda's butt-hole.
	Camille shouted again:  "MY GODDESS!"
	Amanda screamed bloody hell--and face 
became a bloody hellish nightmare, too.  Al gasped in 
horror as he saw cracks in Amanda's lips erupt 
suddenly.  A bruise suddenly appeared around the 
blonde's right eye.  Amanda suddenly spit a wad of 
blood out of her mouth--right as Camille stopped fucking 
the bitch.
	The Filipina let go of Amanda and sighed:  
"Good slave."  She looked over at Al and smiled.  "Both 
of you will make me very good slaves.  I will call on you 
again."  She stood up, walked over to the mat where her 
bikini had fallen, and started to put it back on.
	There was something different about the 
Filipina.  Al looked closely at her face.  The bruises and 
cuts inflicted by his wife had disappeared.  In fact, 
Camille looked even better than when had first seen her.  
Her skin was glowing with health, pure, unblemished.  
Camille seemed to have recovered all her energy.  
Camille wasn't the slightest bit tired, as she stepped into 
her bikini bottom, flexed her strong legs and stretched 
her body.
	He wanted to get up and talk to Camille.  But his 
body would not obey his command to get up.  Al was 
totally drained of energy.
	He looked back at Amanda, who had rolled over 
on her back.  A big bruise had appeared on the blonde's 
right breast--exactly where Peg had pummeled Camille 
over and over again.  The blonde coughed up a little 
more blood and touched her jaw, as if something was 
wrong with her teeth.
	Al wasn't a believer in superstitions or magic.  
But he believed that something supernatural had taken 
place at this moment.  It was as if during the sex 
between them, Camille had transferred her bodily 
injuries to Amanda.  
	His horror grew more intense as he saw a trail of 
blood erupt from Amanda's temple, down her cheek.  
Goosebumps ran up and across his entire naked body 
as he remembered Poundcakes squeezing Camille's 
skull.  
	He looked at Peggy and saw his wife's mouth 
open in anger as she realized what the Filipina had done 
to her favorite slave.
	"Ya ain't getting' her again," Peg said suddenly,  
"Or my guy either."

	His wife stood up.  Peg's legs were wobbly, but 
she walked over towards Camille, as if she were ready 
to fight all over again.  The redhead's face was mopped 
with blood from her nose, mouth, and eyes.
	Camille slapped the bitch hard and Peg fell 
down on her stomach.  Camille landed on the redhead's 
back, driving her fist into Peg's asshole.  Peg swore at 
the bitch.
	"When you have recovered," Camille said, lifting 
up Peg by her hair.  "I'll fuck you as well, break you 
down in your own bed.  You will know the Chakra.  I will 
own you."
	Camille rammed her fist into Peg's ass again 
and again, until Al's wife fainted.
	Al shivered again.  The image appeared quickly 
in his mind, as if Camille had transmitted it instantly: 
Their bedroom, gray Seattle light filtering through the 
shades, the three of them are under the sheets in a 
double ass-fuck.  Al is fucking Camille's lovely buttocks.  
Camille lays on top of Peg and fucks her with the 
invisible penis that Al cannot see, but from his wife's 
squeals of ecstasy, knows that it must truly be real.
	The scene was intense.  Al knew he would have 
to masturbate to it constantly, until he came to 
experience it in reality.  He sold his soul to Camille in 
that one instant.  Sex with his wife would be impossible 
until this happened.
	Camille walked to the door that led back into 
their kitchen.  She turned back and spoke her command:  
"I must go for now, my slaves.  Obey your Mistress, and 
we will get along fine.  If you do not, I must punish you.  
Today I took it easy on you.  If you wish to see what I am 
capable of, go back and look at your CatSport tape.  You 
will see my sister, Tara..."
	Her eyes glittered as she looked at Al.  She 
seemed to be laughing at all of them.
	"...rape, torture, and kill women in combat. 
Catfighting and domination are in our bloodline.  We 
have fought for our lives in cages and catpits.  Soft 
American cunts like you are nothing to us.  Think 
carefully before plotting to take me down, or next time I 
will use the Chakra to take your life!"
	Images of women dying in naked combat 
flooded their minds after Camille slammed the kitchen 
door.  Wave after wave of women--blonde, brunette, 
Asian, Mexican, black--all perishing under the hand of 
Camille, or her sister Tara.  Some died in various Arenas 
where the Filipina sisters had smashed their opponents 
in battle.  Other female slaves were taken back to hotel 
rooms or private houses and fucked to the point of 
ecstasy by Tara or Camille. Male slaves were used and 
abused to attain Chakra--male sex energy--which gave 
the Catfighters an invisible penis.  More than a sex toy, 
Chakra in the hands of a skilled Mistress could give and 
take energy from a female slave.  They could drive 
women to heights of ecstasy unattained by normal sex.  

A Mistress could restore terrible wounds or her youthful 
appearance with such sex.  Some catfighters could be 
eighty years old and look like thirty, thanks to the 
Chakra.  The Mistresses could also use the Chakra to 
communicate telepathically with both male and female 
slaves.  No secrets could be kept from a Mistress once 
this happened.
	For the ultimate transfer of power, both death 
and submission had to occur during the sex. The 
Mistress would fuck her female slave to ecstasy using 
the Chakra, then snap their necks as the bitches 
climaxed.  It was the ultimate submission of a slave to a 
catfighting Mistress.  Their soul was utterly consumed 
and used by the Mistress to attain mystical power.  
The souls of the Camille's dead victims 
screamed for mercy as their final death rattles echoed 
through the minds of Al, Peg, and Amanda.  The three of 
them were frozen on the mats in the garage.  They 
shared this unholy terror together. Peg was unconscious 
again, but her body shook with convulsions, as his wife 
shared the same visions in her coma as well.  Al looked 
over and saw that Amanda was sobbing on the floor. 
She had realized what Al had just come to know: that 
they were all lucky to be alive.  Camille could come back 
at any moment to kill them.  They would be helpless to 
resist.  
	Al could track Camille's movements through his 
house by the sound of her footsteps, the throb of the 
water heater, the distant sound of the hair dryer.  
Pictures came into his mind, visions of her getting 
dressed to leave the house.  Wine colored stockings 
covering her supple legs.  He wanted to touch that sweet 
ass again as Camille put on her tight black pants.  Her 
purple sweater hugged her perfect breasts and then Al 
realized that he never got to suckle them.  The tan 
raincoat over Camille's clothes took away her savage 
nature and made her look respectable.  
	He wondered what she did in real life as he saw 
Camille put on her makeup.  Was she a secretary?  A 
barmaid?  A stripper?  He watched Camille put on a pair 
of black rimmed glasses.  They made her look brainy, 
like a librarian.  Al suddenly wanted to know everything 
about her now.
	Al begged Camille, silently in his mind, to take Al 
home with her, to abuse him at her leisure, to take his 
Chakra freely.  Take anything I own.  Just let me be with 
you forever.
	He heard Camille's distant voice in his mind: 
Never fear.  I will see you again soon, my slave. Your 
chakra is rich and powerful.
	Al's body trembled.  He forced his mind to speak 
back to her silently: I love you, Mistress!
Silence filled his mind and the garage where he 
lay.  Camille said nothing back to him.  
	The front door slammed.  Camille's heels 
clattered down the wooden steps of Al's house.  The 
engine of her Ford Taurus started and the Filipina drove 
away.  When the puttering sound slowly fell off into the 
distance, Al could move his body.  He touched his cheek 
and discovered that for the first time in his life, he was 
crying tears of unrequited love.
	
	
^^The Raven^^
November 1997 - March 1998