Rivals

by Belial

"Stop the fight." Julie said. She was calm, but concerned. John wasn't accustomed to hearing concern from the mercurial blonde. He assumed she was kidding.

"Very funny." John said. On the carpet ­ Kim, a broad shouldered, rangy Hawaiian, had stopped moving. Paula, a smoother, bigger bodied brunette, sat in her lap, had pulled her forward and locked her up around her head and right arm ­ the limb sticking awkwardly up as Paula crushed her breasts against the girl's drowsy face. Kim's left hand alternately pulled at Paula's navy bikini bottoms, or pushed at the carpet. Her struggles were pathetic, instinctive. Kimmie was finished. For some club members, the fight was just getting started.

"I'm serious." Julie turned and looked up ­ her beautiful bronzed face, framed by golden locks done up for the occasion gave John a slight thrill. The sight of those clear blue eyes, so cold, so playful ­ why couldn't he get used to her?

"What?" John intoned. A frown creased his otherwise bland, handsome face. You didn't interrupt a coup de grace. Julie of all people knew that - how many times had she poured it on herself? The girls at the club called it 'drowning' an opponent. Paula had earned this.

"It's over. Can't you see that?" Of course he could. So could everyone else. The men and women of the MetWest Club inner circle, dressed as though for the opera, holding long stemmed glasses, smelling of expensive perfumes, chattering and applauding politely at Paula's triumph were all accustomed to the sight of humiliation. They could recognize it the way other people knew a good vintage, or a worthwhile painting. And Paula had been putting together a masterpiece on Kim for the past several weeks.

No one knew how it had started. Rivalries were common at the Met, even encouraged, but Paula and Kim had started feeding off each other, constantly requesting each other for any and all types of competitions. Kim with her sleek Asian lines, wiry, muscular limbs and bulbous enhanced breasts was the leaner, fitter of the two. With her long black tresses and exotic features, she had initially been paired with blondes and had been constantly requested for special events. Paula with all American good looks, shoulder length, full bodied chestnut hair, dazzling doe eyes and arching brows set upon sweeping cheekbones was the larger, stronger woman. She was the acknowledged 'queen of curves' at the club, famous for her stunning legs and powerful backside. She too had been cast as a blonde assassin, even pushing Julie to the brink of defeat on a couple of occasions before finally encountering Kim. After that, neither would accept any substitutes.

Kim reached up with her left hand to push at Paula's chin. The brunette tightened her squeeze, holding Kim in place with one hand to brush away the girl's arm, then locking up tight again. Paula sneered, flashing those dark eyes. Her navy push up bikini top was coming in handy, massing her proud chest into an effective weapon. Beneath her, Kim in a similarly styled stars and stripes athletic bikini trembled, writhing as her hair spilled in wet streaks over Paula's locked hands and down the slick, well defined back. Paula shunted her hips forward just a little bit and cranked slowly, arching her back like she was working a marlin into the boat.

"She's fine Julie, let them go."

"You don't know what you're looking at John." Julie's voice had frosted over. She turned to stare at the slow constriction before them, crossing her arms and pursing her lips.

At first it had been competitive. Paula hadn't bodied up properly in their first meeting and the ultra fit Asian nearly gobbled her up in the late going. Nevertheless, Paula prevailed, splitting pins with Kim and getting the third and deciding after a grueling struggle. As they continued to meet, Paula began to dominate. It was Kim's idea to fight for submissions, thinking she could extend the matches and once again overcome Paula's power with endurance. Not to put too fine a point on it, Kim had been wrong. As the weeks progressed, Paula got stronger, turning the once suspenseful bouts into agonizing punishments for the determined, but outgunned Kim. The sight of the Asian stretched on her back, clutching at a limb, or hugging her ribs while Paula strutted in triumph was becoming an all too familiar, not to mention welcome sight at the Met. And it was Kim who kept challenging, unable to accept the outcomes. Paula was simply accommodating her. Amongst the club women, it was said that Paula had found her 'chocolate girl' ­ an opponent she just couldn't get enough of.

Paula released her victim with a flourish, staring down as Kim crumpled to the carpet, her eyes fluttering, head lolling side to side. Kim's face was wet from the stifling confinement. She licked her lips and began to prop herself up on her elbows. Paula slid workmanlike onto Kim's thighs and leisurely lowered herself to the brown body beneath her, pushing her hands in around Kim's lower back, pressing her cheek tight against those prize winning abdominals. Kimmie's face twisted from slack repose into fresh agony ­ her hands sought out Paula's brawny shoulders, pushing down on them as the brown-haired woman crouched on her haunches against her prey, squeezing with dreadful pressure about the tapered middle. Paula smiled, staring out into the crowd from Kim's stomach, pouring it on as the Asian suffered, helpless to escape.

"Give?" Paula grunted, more for the crowd than Kim. She knew Kim couldn't surrender. Applause rippled around the room as Kim writhed on her back, pushing down on Paula's traps, or beating tepid, straight arm blows upon the shoulders with no effect.

Julie looked up at John. "John. Jesus." She hissed.

Paula pushed up off her foe, getting to her feet, flicking hair behind her ear and looking around the room with a thoughtful expression. Kim rolled to her side, then lolled to her back once more, struggling to find a way to get back in the match.

Paula's eyes fell upon a couch on the far wall. Smiling, she reached down into the damp mass of Kim's hair, and slowly pulled the girl to an upright seat, then clinched her up under the arms chest to chest, to guide her to her feet. Kim's eyes were glassy, her legs barely able to support her weight, but she stumbled in Paula's grasp to the furniture, brushing past Julie in the process. The blonde turned, arms still crossed, gnashing her teeth as the two warriors staggered the length of the room.

Earlier in the fight, Kim had had some good moments working a scissor around Paula's waist. Propped on her left elbow, Kim sunk the hold in, glorying in Paula's pained expression, the chestnut-haired wrestler helpless on her side, taking on damage as her own legs churned carpet to no avail. As Paula dumped Kim to the floor just before the couch, it was clear that payback was coming. And nobody wanted to be scissored up by Paula at the tale end of a grinder like this one.

"I'm stopping this." Said Julie. She took a step towards the couch as John took her by the arm.

"What the hell's the matter with you?" John whispered. "Kim can tap out or surrender any time she wants."

"She's not going to tap. This is different John, trust me. I'm not over-reacting ­ it's not the physical beating I'm worried about. Paula's using her up. We need to step in."

Kim's exhausted wail warbled through the room ­ Paula sitting pretty on the couch had her legs tight around the Asian's ribcage. The brown-haired beauty smiled without remorse, holding Kim's wrists, drinking in the sight of her rival's ashen face - lips parted, eyes closed as the victim huddled on her knees to take the abuse.

Paula pulled Kim in, and reached down the girl's back, cuddling her close, ungulfing her as curvy legs poured on dreadful punishment. Kim lay swooning in Paula's grasp, hands reaching limply around the stronger woman's hips, biceps budging out as they pressed against the iron thighs of her tormentress. Paula's bulging breasts pressed down upon Kim's upperback. Kim's cheek pushed into the damp muscle of Paula's belly, the Asian's breath coming in harsh rattles as consciousness flickered. Paula smiled hard, sweat glistening on her rounded features, feet poking straight out as her legs clamped with every ounce of crushing strength she could muster. And suddenly, it was over. The crowd burst into raucous ovation as Paula sat up, put her feet down. She lifted Kim's sodden head by the hair just to look at her prize, then let the face plop wetly back against her stomach as she raised her hands in happy victory. Kim lay slumped on her knees, arms propped upon Paula's swollen quads, embracing the conqueror's hips lightly as her face rested in peace against Paula's quivering tummy.

Paula shoved her foe to the floor, bounced up off the couch, and strutted from the room to shower, hands preening her hair as she left. Kim was lifted gently and taken to a ready room to be cared for. When Paula returned, her hair slick, body refreshed, barefoot and dressed in a silk kimono, she chatted up the fight with the members ­ flirting, enjoying the frank admiration. It was altogether too much for Julie. Finishing her drink, she walked past John, and without looking at him, said, "Let's go."

City lights gleamed on to the horizon in the darkness as the limo sped home along the rise of the North Hill road. Julie lay with her coiffured head in John's lap, staring through the sun roof at the stars above. John absently played with the soft blonde curls, staring out the window.

After many silent minutes, John spoke. "You have nothing to worry about, you know that."

"I know." The voice had gone small, a world away from the icy tinge it had held at the party.

"You don't really care about Kim at all, do you?"

"Just make sure she doesn't get a rematch."

John smiled. He looked down into that nordic, complex face. It hadn't been concern at all that had driven Julie tonight. It was jealousy. Paula piling on the way Julie always did, capturing everyone's imagination with the toxic rivalry. He thought about saying "I love you too," but he didn't. That would have been just too obvious.