Hollywood Catpack By The Raven (raven@ravensword.com) Chapter 2, Part II of II Update: 22/03/1998 to raven SYNPOSIS from part I of Chapter 2: Blond bimbo Stella Stellar has taken to the stage to fight Rocky in the Chicago Playboy Club, circa 1964. The prize of the fight will be to star in Elvis Presley's new movie, Viva Las Vegas. Stella's honor is also at stake, since Rocky humiliated the blonde by rejecting her advances in Chapter 1. Now both women are ready to have it out once and for all. They are wearing full Playboy Bunny suits, ears, heels, bow tie, and fishnet stockings... Copyright (c) 1997, 1998 by RavensWord Publishing. All rights reserved. You may download the documents containing my fiction in order to read them only. You may not reproduce, redistribute, repost, or resell them for financial monetary gain. This covers not only printed documents, but electronic media as well. 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 The first piece of clothing to go was those stupid bunny ears. Stella ripped them off my head and grabbed a clump of my hair. I grabbed some of her blond snatch and bumped her set of ears off as well. We tussled and shook each other’s head on the stage. "BITCH!" Stella yelled, and yanked my head down. Her knee rammed into my chin. I tasted blood from my tongue. Stella forced my head between her legs and squeezed hard. She looked behind her back towards Dino and yelled to him: "Your little one is a cupcake!" I was determined to make her eat those words. I grabbed hold of Stella’s legs with my hands, steadied my legs on the floor, and pushed my body upward. Stella’s chest fell on my back, and I flipped the bitch over my head. The blond fell flat on her back. I leapt up in the air and fell down on her chest, just as I had seen guys do it on TV. I saw the air get crushed out of her windpipe. I pinned Stella’s arms with my knees and slapped the bitch hard with the flat of my hand. I had no clear plan of what to do next-- everything happened by instinct. I dove my nails into Stella’s chest and tried to pull the bunny tunic off her body. I failed, but tight costume must have tore into Stella’s back. "Fucker!" she wailed, and brought her legs backward. She slapped her heels against my ears a few times. I heard a ringing noise and then suddenly I was thrown off the blonde’s body. My head hit the floor hard. Stella grabbed my ankles and stood up over me. She raised my legs up in the air and kicked my cunt with the hard sole of her heel. "Now you go FUCK YOUR SELF, BIMBO!" Stella yelled, and kicked me twice more. I screamed. This was pain, real pain, worse than anything I had ever felt in my life. I jerked my legs out of Stella’s grasp and rolled over on the floor, clutching my groin. Stella jumped on top of my back and grabbed a fist full of my hair. She pulled my head back and crooned: "It’s only just begun." Her claws--the same claws that Angie had warned me to stay away from, that I ignored foolishly--dug into the flesh at the nape of my neck. Like five little needle pins. I never knew fingernails could be that sharp. Stella raked them down the center of my spine. When they hit the corset of the Bunny costume, the knots disintegrated, as if a razor blade had sliced through them. It was sheer agony and everyone in the audience knew it, because I yelled like bloody murder. They just laughed in sheer sadistic pleasure. I tried to throw Stella off my back. The bitch had me pinned but good. Her nails were close to my ass. I grabbed the hand that held my hair and wrenched it down, where my teeth could bite it. I chomped down on Stella’s thumb and forefinger as hard as I could. Stella yelped in pain and the guys went crazy. It distracted the bitch, just in time for me to roll over, trapping Stella under my back. I raised my pelvis and slammed my waist into her gut a few times. I tried to sit up, but Stella grabbed my hair again. Her incredibly strong legs encircled my waist and crushed my diaphragm. The already tight Bunny corset chafed against my skin. We were both sitting upright, but my back was against her tits. Stella leaned backward, raised her legs up in the air, keeping me in their grip at the same time. She slammed me down hard on the floor--the famous "keister bounce" move. The impact on my already sore crotch was tremendous. She raised me up and slammed me again, until her legs became tired. I managed somehow to stand up. Stella rolled away and stood up a few feet away from me. Her thighs looked a little shaky. We circled each other warily. Our hands darted towards each other. "C’mon, cupcake!" Stella taunted. "Show me what ya got!" I lunged for Stella’s hair. Stella dodged my grip, went under my arms, and reached inside the front of my Bunny costume. I felt her nails scrap against my breasts as she grabbed tight. Then the blonde dropped to the ground, yanking my Bunny top completely off my body. It seemed like the whole world stopped for a second, as I turned towards the audience, not believing what had occurred. I stood topless before all of them. I wore only my underwear and fishnet stockings. Elvis boomed: "That’s a mighty fine chest!" My breath went away. I was in shock. The rest of the audience howled and stomped the floor. Then I was in pain once more, when Stella attacked my rear. Her claws had sunk through my fishnet stockings and into my buns. She raked, pulled away, then my pantyhose were torn off my body like tissue paper. Now I was completely nude, except for the stiletto heels. I turned back towards Stella. The bitch was sneering. I kicked her hard in the head. Elvis hooted when he saw my cunt, but I didn’t care. The crowd didn’t exist anymore, all I could see was the blond. I saw a streak of blood erupt from Stella’s lips and wanted to see more. Stella rolled on her gut. I came down hard and slammed my knees on her spine. "Still think I am a cupcake?" I yelled. I slammed my palm into her head. Her nose popped when it hit the floor. I needed a way to tear that corset off her body--so I grabbed one of Stella’s stiletto heels. It wasn’t sharp enough to tear through the knotted cord. I went for the corset material instead. I jammed the heel into the velvet material and punctured it. I ran the heel down Stella’s back and made a complete tear. The surface of Stella’s skin was also torn. I grabbed hold of the cloth with both hands. Elvis stood up and whooped when I tore the Bunny corset completely off Stella’s body. "You fucking dumb bitch!" Stella yelled. "Don’t you know who I am!" "Yeah!" I replied. I grabbed her ankles, raised her legs in the air, flipped Stella over on her back. "You’re a dyke!" "No!" Stella pleaded, knowing what was coming next. I kicked her hard in the cunt and yelled: "YES!" The blonde groaned, but flicked her foot out of my grip, and kicked my left breast. I stumbled backward, but did not fall. Stella rolled again and got back on her feet quickly. She shed her other heel and charged me barefoot. The crowd was shifting in the seat, as we prepared to fight naked. I shifted my stance, and hit Stella with a hard right fist to the eye. The impact made a CHOK! sound that echoed in the air. My boxing study had paid off. Stella took a few steps backward and shook her head. I was foolish to allow her time to rest. The men cheered as I went after Stella. My fists connected with each of her tits and her jaw. Stella scowled and screamed, suddenly transfixed from a starlet into a wolverine woman. Her claws raked through the air, glanced at my cheek, and raked down my arm. I felt the sting and started watching her claws. My feet started dancing and I evaded Stella’s attacks. I launched more blows, when Stella started to block. The fight was becoming more professional. We were fighting naked, to the point of submission. I felt that same eerie sense of déjà vu that I felt when I fought Angie. This was a natural way of life that I had lived before. I wanted to believe that my dreams of Roman gladiatrix combat were not some silly fantasy. The dance continued until I found an opening in Stella’s gut. I launched a series of haymaker blows, left- right-left-right, same pattern, twice. I felt lust and desire when her muscles started to crumple. "Holy Schmoley!" Dino exclaimed. "Rocky Balboa’s got nothin’ on you, baby!" Sammy joined the chorus: "Ba-da Boom, Ba-da Bing, Dis Bitch is a Glorious T’ing!" I shouldn’t have listened to them. It made me cocky. Stella did what any boxer does when they are getting pummeled: she hugged me tight and close. I suddenly had nothing to punch. The blonde wrapped her legs around my thighs, her arms around my back, and squeezed her muscles tight like a cobra. Her teeth found my jaw and bit into it hard. Her claws stabbed into my buns and started raking upward. The tables had been turned. Now I was the victim once again. I felt the painful tear of flesh once again, and my mouth felt ready to shatter under Stella’s horrendous mouth. I used each hand to grab one of Stella’s buns and try to stretch them apart wide. She ignored the move and kept on with the cat-attack. I leapt up in the air, bringing Stella’s body with me. We landed on the floor together, me on top of her chest. Stella stopped biting and clawing, but rolled us over on the ground. She was on top. It felt good when my breasts rubbed against her sweaty chest. I suddenly wished the fight was over and we were in bed together. I was tiring and I was losing control of my catlust. Stella sat up, straddled my torso, and pinned my arms. "GOD." Stella yelled. She slapped my cheek hard. Her face was swollen from my fists. Blood trickled out of her nose and lips. She looked furious. Her right hand not only slapped, the claws raked my cheek on the way out. "DAMN." Her lips were trembling. I could see she was almost in tears. Her left hand slapped me again. The claws raked my lips and blood oozed out of my mouth. I tried to mimic Stella’s earlier defense and bring my legs back to attack her head. They weren’t flexible enough to reach all the way to her head. I did need more training. "BITCH." Her right hand again. I tried to shake her off. It was hopeless. I was pinned, but good. "BIIITTTTCCCHHHHHH!!!!!!!!" Left hand, claws raking my forehead. My face was becoming a bloody mess. I grabbed hold of Stella’s wrists and stopped her blows. "Enough! I submit!" Stella struggled against my grip. Her face looked crazier than ever. She wanted to keep on hitting me. "I said, I SUBMIT!" I yelled. I started to feel afraid of her. "It’s not enough!" Stella wailed. "You fucking hussy, what you cost me!" She shook her body and started to cry. "I’m gonna teach you a lesson." Tears came, but her strength still didn’t fade. I had no doubt that my face would be soon in tatters if I let her arms go free. My muscles were aching. It was all I could do to keep Stella at bay. Art Prickerson stood up and said: "That’s enough, Stella. It’s over. You won." Stella stood up and I let her go of her wrists. The anger came back on her face and I could tell she was going to kick me in the cunt again. I somersaulted backwards and came back quickly on my feet. Now I was angry once more. "You wanna go again, bimbo!" I yelled at Stella. "C’mere cutie!" I waved her to me with my hands. The fight started again. "I SAID THE FIGHT WAS OVER!" Art yelled. I ignored the man. Stella never looked so ugly and so sexy at the same time, tears smearing her mascara down her cheeks, hatred and catlust filling her eyes. Stella’s claw arched out at me. I ducked, and fired a sliding uppercut. It hit Stella square in the jaw. I immediately shifted my body and fired another blow with my left fist, hitting Stella’s cheek. The blonde flew backward, completely off the stage, crashing into Elvis’ table. She slumped down face first on the floor and didn’t come back up. A sudden quiet fell across the room. "Oh my sweet Lord," Hefner said. Elvis got up and rolled Stella over. She was alive and conscious, but sobbing out of control. "Thank god." Hefner muttered, relieved. "All we need is for someone to die and this gets blown wide open!" "What the hell do you mean!" Dino exclaimed. "This is the greatest fucking fight in the history of the club!" Peter Lawford raised his glass: "I agree. Let’s toast the winner. To Rocky, may all your fights be as grand as this one!" TO ROCKY! LONG MAY SHE REIGN! I was scarred, bleeding, tired, aching, and completely nude, but a chill of excitement ran up my spine. Another wave of déjà vu came over me as I bowed to their toasts. I had no idea that was another price to pay for joining the club: the third ring of fire. Art Prickerson was glaring at me. "Angie," he said to his wife. "Get some clothes on Rocky and take her to the hotel. Margaret, you take care of Stella." The end of the fight was not what I had anticipated. I had imagined that I would go to back to the hotel with Stella and Elvis. Instead, I went back with Angie. "Well," she drawled as the limo pulled away. "Ya pooched that one." "Stella won’t be back for a while," I laughed. "Not Stella!" Angie yelled. "Elvis. You screwed up the Elvis deal!" She started to fix herself a drink from the wet bar. "How’s that?" "Elvis had to get both you and Stella in bed. Without two women getting’ it on, Elvis can’t get it up." "Shit." I couldn’t believe it. "You’re kidding, right?" "Look, Elvis Presley is the one of the most powerful guys on the planet when it comes to cunt. If he wants two cupcakes to roll over each other in bed while he fucks them in the ass, he can have it every night of his life! A man like that gets used to...certain peculiarities." "Then he can do me with you. Or me with Margaret- Ann." "Art offered that to him. He turned it down. When you’re the King, you can be picky." Then I remembered the prize of the fight. "So, do I get the Elvis picture?" "Hell, no!" Angie yelled. She handed me a glass of wine. "Why not? I kicked Stella’s ass!" "No, you didn’t. You submitted to Stella. You shouldn’t have fought her after that. You broke the rules. The win doesn’t count. Margaret-Ann’s gonna be in Viva Las Vegas, and Art’s gonna have a shit-fit, because M-A’s not his bitch!" "Like HELL she is!" I yelled, and turned angrily to face Angie. The blond slapped my face. The blow double-stung me, thanks to the cuts that Stella inflicted. "Watch your mouth, missy," Angie hissed. "You ain’t part of the Club yet. Not until Art says so. Not until you pass the third test." I rubbed my jaw. "And what is that?" "To obey God." Angie crossed her legs and slugged her drink down. "And the God of Hollywood is a man named Art Prickerson." The shower in the hotel was blessedly hot and powerful. It stung my wounds at first, but slowly sealed the cuts. The soap washed away the blood and sweat. I played the fight over in my mind, relishing what I had done to Stella. My only regret was that she wasn’t in the shower with me. I stood naked before the mirror in the bathroom and examined my scars. My ass was gouged. A strip of flesh had been stripped away on my back. The worst, for the sake of my career in front of a camera, was my face. Tattered small scars dotted my cheeks, forehead, and chin. My once clear complexion and skin tone was now ruined. I would have cried buckets if I hadn’t been started by a voice. "They can all go away if you take the next step." Angie. Her voice startled me. She stood in the doorway of the bathroom, wearing a thin, pink, see-through robe. Her nipples were visible underneath. They looked hard. "Art’s got a secret way of healin’ em." She nodded at my chin. "So we can fight one night and go back on camera the next day. That’s the benefit of joining the Club." "What is it?" I asked her. My heart was pounding. A secret way to heal? It was too good to be true. "It’s Art’s secret magic. Only he can do it for us." Angie replied, smiling. "If ya want it now, ya gotta go through step three. Total submission. Can you play the game by our rules, Rocky?" I had no choice. "Yes." I bit my lip. What was she going to do? Angie dropped out of her robe. She was completely naked, just as I was. The bottle blond leapt on my body. I went crashing down on the sink. Angie clung on top of me. Our nipples rubbed together. Shampoo bottles, lipstick, makeup containers, glasses, everything scattered from the sink to the floor. I stood up and pushed Angie back, out into the little hallway. "You’ve been aching for a rematch, haven’t you?" I asked her. Our hands were locked in a test of strength. "Stella...ughhh!...was just the appetizer," Angie said through trembling lips. "I’m the main course." The blond dropped to the ground. Her feet hit my stomach, and propelled me up and over her body. I landed on my ass hard. Angie grabbed my hair and dragged me on the floor. "That blond bimbo bitch softened you up good. You’re weak as a kitten." She pulled me on my feet and shoved me on the bed like a sack of potatoes. Angie leapt on top of my body and our breasts touched once more. I was horny as hell from the fight. Angie grabbed my wrists, pinned me down, and kissed my lips. I couldn’t resist her. My hands reached for her firm little ass. We kissed, fondled, and stroked each other for a long time. I was hungry for Angie’s body and she wanted mine just as much. We said nothing for almost ten minutes while we devoured each other carnally. "You gotta learn," Angie said, coming up for air at last, "what it means to submit to us." "I do," I moaned. Yes, kiss my cunt, make me come! I thought. "NO, YOU DO NOT." It was that familiar southern voice, that deep bassy drawl. My body jumped with a start. I saw Art Prickerson standing by the bed. He was totally nude. His bulging penis shot out from his body. "You have been a very bad girl," Art said. His face was dark. I was scared and confused. I thought Art was a total homo with no interest in women. "But I will fuck you to the point of submission." Angie stroked my pussy and then I was turned on once again. I thought I could fuck her husband if Angie took part in the action. She moved away and let Art climb on top of me. He took firm hold of my hips and thrust his dick into my wet cunt. My body arched immediately. I started to come. But the orgasm didn’t go quickly. I kept coming, and coming, and coming, and coming... "GOD!" I yelled. "IT’S GOOD!" "Yes. You love it, don’t you my dear? There are some things only a Man can do for you. Do you submit to me, Rocky?" Art asked, with a dark smile. "YES!" I was still coming. I couldn’t believe it. "No you don’t. Not yet." Art stated. He kept pumping his dick. I thought the man must have an endless supply of sperm. The orgasm was too long. It was becoming painful now. I grabbed Art’s butt and hung on for dear life. "Stop!" I pleaded. "I’ve had enough!" My body was writhing on the bed. The heels of my feet slapped Art’s thighs in agony. "Say you submit, ROCKY cunt!" Art yelled. "Say I am your master!" "I SUBMIT!" I shouted. "Like you did to Stella? To stab me in the back tomorrow, like every other Hollywood cunt?" My vagina was about to burst. The pain reached in the core of my mind. "NO! You are my GOD!" I cried. Tears were in my eyes. Art pulled his penis out. "Yes. I am indeed." I rolled over on the bed and cried in the pillow. Nothing had ever scared me so much in my life. I would rather face a dozen Stellas than Art Prickerson’s dick. I felt his hands spread my ass cheeks apart. "No!" I cried, and started to sit up. The thought of his dick in my ass was horrifying. Angie shoved me back down. She wrapped a pair of handcuffs around one of my wrists, through the bedpost, to the other wrist. I was trapped. "You’re in the Club now, Rocky." Art said. "And you’re my Bitch. Never forget that. Fuck up once more like you did tonight and you’ll never work in Hollywood again." Art’s dick, still hard as iron, entered my anus. Painful, searing, but wet, the dick slid down my rectum. It was hot and tight. I cried, buckled, pleaded, tried to throw Art off my body. "Get that fucking thing on her head!" Art shouted to Angie. "She’s making too much noise." Angie wrapped a gag around my face. A rubber ball was shoved in my mouth to prevent me from screaming further. I suddenly felt suffocated until I remembered to breathe through my nose. Art’s prick rammed into my ass again and again, deeper with every thrust. Just when I thought the pain couldn’t get any worse, Art grabbed my hair, pulled my head back, and spoke in my ear: "You Are My Bitch! I own you, your tits, your face, your soul." He let go of my head and stopped thrusting his dick. His penis shifted around my anus from side to side while he grabbed hold of my breasts. "Dionysus, I have done it!" Art shouted, as he started to come. "I have lusted for this moment for over a hundred years!" His orgasm was hot and spectacular. His cock expanded and opened new wounds inside me. My body was flush with sweat, fear, and pain. A thousand visions started to flood my mind. I passed out at the apex of Art’s climax, and dreamed once again of my past life. This time I would be unable to deny them as anything but real. To be continued in Hollywood Catpack, Chapter 3...