Marla took the reclining makeup chair for the final time. It was closing night of her first starring role in a college play and she was relishing the attention she was getting. The other girls in the theater department were typical for the profession: flirtatious and competitive. Even among them Marla had a reputation as a tease, a bitch and a cutthroat who'd do anything for a role. She loved wearing revealing clothing and made no secret of the fact that she thought her natural, flaxen blonde hair, lush strong legs, creamy white skin and full bust made her better than the other girls. She knew directors cast her for her looks and it amused her to see more talented actresses lose out. As for the girls who tried to compete on her level, she was an expert at doing battle verbally or physically for what she wanted, parts or men. Only a few had faced her down more than once...and those were her favorites. Marla loved to fight; she thought it was better than fucking. She knew some girls liked to humiliate a rival, strip her bare in front of a crowd, but to Marla the satisfaction came in private domination, secret contests where only the competitors knew who'd come out on top.

Getting this role had been easier than usual; she'd only had to fight a couple of girls to keep them out of call-backs. Now she was lording it over the rest of the cast, the undisputed queen. She even got her own private dresser. Karen seemed a little older, but Marla had to admit she was cute; in charge of costumes and makeup, she was a stylish dresser, partial to skirts that showed off her strong legs in dark tights. She had beautiful skin, maybe a little smoother even than the blonde's, and sparkling blue eyes and round features like Marla's. But she was quiet and went about her work fussing and primping over Marla without much fanfare, her drab brown hair and unspectacular figure never attracting much attention from the boys. In fact, Marla didn't know what to make of Karen's figure; even though she spent an hour every day leaning over Marla she always seemed to wear bulky blouses, jackets or sweatshirts that never gave the blonde an idea of what kind of bust line she had. That only convinced Marla that Karen was flat-chested, and she loved sitting back in the chair in her off-the shoulder, cleavage-emphasizing costumes, making little jokes about how hard it must be for shy little flat girls. Karen never responded, maybe just a flash of her striking eyes now and then, but no challenge. It was almost disappointing but Marla was getting too much attention from everyone else to notice.

Now, finally, she was in her last night of the show, and letting herself be extra bitchy to the dresser. They were alone in Marla's private dressing room, and Marla stretched coyly, arching her back a little to bring her creamy cleavage closer to Karen's face as the other girl touched up her makeup. She noticed Karen's eyes drop to rest on her half-bared breasts and smiled. "I always like watching other girls check out what they don't have," she purred smugly. It was a brazen remark and she exulted in the color that hit Karen's face as their blue eyes met. Karen's glance dipped once more to take in the blonde girl's chest. Marla half expected her to stomp out of the room; it was a risky move, since her makeup wasn't quite finished, but she was feeling daring. But Karen only placed the makeup kit on the dressing room counter coolly.

"I can see we need to get a little better acquainted," Karen said, placing her foot on either side of the makeup chair and stepping forward. Marla stiffened; Karen was practically straddling her, standing over her in a position of brazen dominance. Silently she removed the bulky school jacket she'd been wearing, letting it drop to the floor. The two women's eyes remained locked as Karen efficiently unbuttoned her blouse and revealed a lush, black-brassiered bosom. Marla was stunned; the brunette had disguised her chest expertly. She would never have suspected it, but Karen's breasts were as big, round and full as Marla's were, and her lustrous skin made them mouth-wateringly smooth and sexy-looking.

"Now, do you see anything you have that I don't have, baby?" the dresser growled.

Marla was more excited than intimidated. She hadn't had a woman stand up to her like this in a long time. "Hard to tell with that big padded bra on," she goaded.

"Shut your mouth, whore!" Karen said, hunkering down over Marla face to face, her arms locked onto the arms of the makeup chair. "You better be a good girl if you don't want to look like a clown on that stage tonight." Marla submitted, angry at the threat, but knowing the dresser had the upper hand. She had to look her best for this final performance. Karen continued the makeup session in total control, manhandling her charge at every opportunity, tugging sharply at Marla's hair as she set it and letting her long black nails dig into the blonde's shoulders and arms as she adjusted her dress. She finally hauled the leading lady out of the makeup chair until they were standing face to face. She had finished the makeup job with her open blouse thrusting her heavy chest into Marla's face; now the girls stood close, almost breast to breast in the empty makeup room. "I've got some advice for you, blonde meat," Karen rasped, her sweet breath kissing Marla's lip glossed mouth. "Don't flash those tits around unless you know you've got something to show."

"The only thing you just proved is that you've got a pair, bitch!" Marla shot back, her voice level. "Not that you've got the better pair."

Karen leaned into Marla just like she wanted her to, the silk cups of her bra sliding erotically across the sheer gauzy top of Marla's cocktail dress. "I've listened to you shoot your mouth off for two weeks, honey, and I've had enough of it. You can just suck my tits...hard."

Marla was up against her in an even harder grind, her lips brushing Karen's as she whispered, "You ought to know better than to say something like that to a girl who just might do it, Karen. The only difference is I'd rather bite than suck."

"Of course you would; you're all mouth. If I ever beat your fat tits I won't need my teeth to do it."

"What are you gonna do, baby---milk me with those long black nails of yours?" Marla demanded hotly. She'd almost forgotten the play---she was ready for a fight.

"You blonde cunt!" Karen hissed. "You know less about woman fighting than you do about acting. I'm not stupid enough to teach you a lesson before this show. Let's just see how tough your tits are...afterwards."

"I doubt you'll be around afterwards, sweetie. You look like a prissy little pussy to me, but I'll sure come looking for you."

"You do that, whore!" Karen said. The girls stood in opposition, eyes boring into each other for a few more seconds before Karen whirled and marched out of the room.

Marla got through the show, somehow. She'd run the lines enough that she could do them in her sleep, or in the erotic trance she was in now. All she could see was Karen, that straining black bra, her soft belly, the valley of her cleavage; all she could smell was the other girl's perfume, all she could hear was that sexy growl that was Karen's voice. She had to take her down, had to show her who was the real woman between them. She knew somehow it would not be easy, and that only made her want the coming duel all the harder.

Before she knew it the show was over and she swept into the dressing room like a tigress, fully expecting the other girl to be waiting. Her heart sank when she found the room empty---then her eye caught something. A bundle of nylon and a note. She picked it up: "Marla: This is your last chance to dress for me, woman. Put this on. Wait until the others leave. Come down to the hall below the stage where it's dark. Be quiet, slut; there will still be people cleaning and you don't want them to find us. Come and be ready to fight with me, just your body against mine. I know you think your tits are hot, but mine are hotter and harder and I will prove it to you if it takes all night. If you don't come to me we will both know who the pussy is, BITCH! Karen"

Marla picked up the tangle of nylon. It was a sheer black cat suit; no shoes, no bra or panties, just nearly transparent dark netting. Her crotch burned at the feel of it. She slipped into it, amazed at first that it fit her, until she realized how closely she and Karen must be matched. She eyed herself in the full length mirror, from her straight, neck-length pageboy hairdo to the swelling, creamy boobs that stretched the cat suit fabric across her chest so tightly, to the muscular belly and powerful hips, the wispy corn silk bush that was barely visible in the crotch of the suit, and her strong legs, thickly muscled from high school cheerleading. Marla had never let another girl beat this body, and she couldn't imagine that quiet little tramp doing it to her now. She felt girlish fury building at how Karen was controlling this encounter. This was HER show, and Karen was HER little bitch of a dresser. There was only one way this fight could end. She pulled clothes over the cat suit and staked out the girl's room until the rest of the cast and crew had left. Then she found a stairwell and stepped down into the darkness.

It was warm and damp in the lower basements of the theater, silent except for the occasional noises of furnaces and machinery. She had already stowed her tennis shoes in her bag, and now she stopped, crouching in the darkness to strip back down to the cat suit and put away her clothes. The nylon felt delicious on her naked body, and she paused a moment to drag her red nails across her breasts, down her stomach and between her thighs. Her nipples were already engorging, poking out of the front of the cat suit like tent poles. She had to find Karen.

Suddenly she heard a whispering noise; the sound of nylon-clad feet sliding across the tiles of the hallway floor. She struggled to make out shapes in the darkness; there were still pools of light from the upper floors reaching down here. She crept down the hallway, following the faint sounds, wondering if Karen was as blind down here as she was. Or if the other girl was waiting for her, waiting to strike.

She saw a shadow, moved to where moonlight fell from a basement window, and saw the silhouette of her enemy there standing, waiting.

"I see you, bitch," Karen whispered. She stepped forward, her fingers outstretched, sharp nails in evidence, threatening. Marla moved forward in the same stance, crouching, showing Karen her claws. Somehow she hadn't expected the first move to be like this, with all Karen's talk of body fighting. Marla knew girls who argued over tits liked to tit fight, and their tit-to-tit face off upstairs had hinted at that. But if Karen wanted to claw, Marla could claw. They circled to within arms length, and without warning Karen moved in sharply, hands slicing, nails flashed across Marla's cheek and belly simultaneously and she slashed out instinctively in response, purposely raking across Karen's breasts and face. The girls gasped at the sharp impacts, backpedaled, monitoring their reactions, neither wanting to sound an alarm to anyone upstairs. "Fight me!" Marla snarled, closing again. The fighters exchanged ripping, slashing blows, keeping their fingers open; suddenly Karen grabbed! a handful of Marla's hair and used her free hand to rake down the blonde's voluptuous body repeatedly, drawing long, ragged runs in Marla's cat suit. "I'm going to strip your tits bare, baby!" Karen growled, chopping and tearing at the sheer material viciously. Marla tried unsuccessfully to block the attack, then went on offense, dragging both hands down the brunette's front. For a second she had Karen's big breasts in her hands and she squeezed roughly, digging her sharp red nails into the soft flesh, then pulling down with streamers of nylon webbing dragging off the chipped edges of her talons.

After a flurry of ripping attacks the girls broke off, breath coming raggedly; Marla could see her rival's body well now in the dim light, proud breasts still held well in place by the remaining sections of cat suit material, belly and thighs peeking out from the dark webbing in places, the dark nylon fading to night black between her legs. The girls closed in two more slashing encounters, nails cracking as they caught in cat skin fabric. Marla felt Karen's claws sink into her hard globes several times, just deep enough to leave raw red marks on her cherished breast flesh. She knew either girl could do real damage, clawing at eyes or attacking breasts or crotches with real violence, but the skirmishing had a breathless, flighty air, emphasizing the destruction of their clothing more than inflicting real damage. Neither girl wanted to goad the other into real brutality, at least not yet. They fought with the hesitancy of schoolgirls who were afraid to find out what a really violent encounter would entail. Marla finally lunged forward and caught Karen in a hair pulling clinch, crushing her breasts against the brunette's. Their bosoms were still held in place by torn cups of nylon; neither girl had yet bared the other's nipples and despite the heat the feel of their sheer cat suits was slippery and cool, their boobs sliding across one another as they struggled to arrange themselves in the cramped arena bounded by their chests and arms.

Karen pressed her cheek against Marla's, grunting, and mashed her bosom hard against the blonde's boobs, hardening their jiggling tits into taut, near-bursting hemispheres. Marla snarled and rammed back as she dug her fingers into Karen's curly hair, the brunette yanked on Marla's silky locks, using the grip to drag the blonde's boldly lipsticked mouth within reach of her own. Her teeth fastened on Marla's lower lip and closed, clamping down on the tender sweet skin hard. Marla tried to return the bite, twisting to reach Karen's upper lip, but the brunette held her fast---the girl was strong! She maintained the bite, not bearing down enough to break the skin, but just enough to control her enemy. Marla struggled, first burying her nails in the other girl's hard tits, digging with her thumbs for the nipples, but they were buried too deep between their colliding tit flesh. She twisted, slipping one well-muscled thigh between Karen's legs and jamming upward into her crotch, but that only produced an answering slam against her own blonde bush from Karen's left leg. She pivoted, pulling her hips away from the other girl's, and sent her cracked nails plunging into Karen's dark crotch once, twice, three times before the other girl hissed in pain and broke off the bite.

The girls separated, surveying the damage they'd done. Their cat suits were shredded, but the look that passed between the fighters sent a clear message that there was more work to be done. Karen seemed infuriated by Marla's jabs at her pussy and Marla had been driven equally wild by the punishing bite of her adversary. The brunette lashed out and slapped Marla's face. "Keep your hands off my pussy, you little bitch!" Marla immediately returned the slap and the girls began an enraged slapping match, cracking their open palms across faces and any bare skin within reach. Marla viciously drove her rival backward with multiple blows, reaching down as Karen tried to block the slaps and tearing away the last tatters of material from the brunette's chest. Even in the dim light she could see the shocking brown hardness of the other girl's nipples, long and arrogantly erect, pointing accusingly at their counterparts on Marla's chest. She raised her open hand to smack at Karen's tits and opened herself up for a final slash-attack from the brunette that ripped Marla's chest bare. Gasping at the feel of moist air on her naked breasts, she arched her back challengingly, proudly showing off the pink stilettos of her own big-nippled round tits. "Come on, bitch---COME ON!" she whispered fiercely. "you're the one who said you didn't need your hands to beat my tits!"

"You big slut!" Karen hissed. Enraged, she slapped at Marla again, and the two girls exchanged a flurry of smacks and punches at faces and bellies, yet somehow breasts were off limits now. They separated once again, circling each other, and Karen thrust her own chest out, adding a shake to her torso that let her creamy jugs jiggle enticingly. But Marla could see a hesitancy in the other girl's eyes as she eyed the blonde's bare bust, still not daring to bring their chests into naked contact. She wondered suddenly whether Karen had ever really fought another girl like this before; despite the audaciousness of her planning and the bold front she'd put up, was this the first time she'd ever stripped down to tussle with another woman? She feinted suddenly with her chest and Karen dodged backward, avoiding her ramming tits. A second attempt produced the same results, and the girls moved farther back into the darkness of the hallway.

Suddenly Marla heard a noise upstairs, the sound of steps. Both girls stiffened, their eyes meeting, and Karen turned to flee into the darkness. "No!" Marla hissed, determined that the confrontation wouldn't end here. She caught the small of the other woman's back with her nails and held onto the cat suit fabric, pulling the remaining shreds off of Karen's shoulders and belly and finally tearing most of her firm, round ass cheeks bare. Karen clawed at her, twisting, and suddenly reversed their positions, throwing Marla tits-first against a wall. She felt the other girl's talons ripping at the seat of her cat suit, baring her buns with lightning speed before the blonde could throw her off. They spun to face each other again, this time only their crotches, arms and legs covered by webs of cat suit material.

The footsteps were dangerously close now. Panicking, Karen fled down the hallway and disappeared down a stairwell to the lowest levels of the building. Marla dashed after her, as much to escape the oncoming footsteps as to pursue her escaping opponent. In the rush and the deafening sound of footsteps she lost track of the brunette, found herself breathing shallowly in total blackness. She waited moments while the footsteps on the level above clattered and echoed. It was hotter down here, and she was sweaty and winded from the early stages of the duel. Her clothes were two floors overhead. She felt at the tatters of her cat suit: the leggings and arms weren't protecting anything; if anything the soles of her stockings were too slippery on the smooth linoleum of the floor. She stripped off the stockings below her knee and tore away everything else above her waist, leaving her in a kind of ragged pair of sheer biker shorts in the dark. She could hear whoever it was above them moving around, perhaps ten feet over her head. She didn't dare make a sound.

Standing absolutely still, she sensed the heat of another body near her in the dark, someone else's warm breath on the back of her neck. Two fleshy points suddenly touched her back, pressed down, dragging trails across the slick sweat of her shoulder blades. Every instinct told her to whirl and attack Karen as the other girl pressed her nipples into her back, but the person overhead was too close. Karen pressed into her, flattening her tits against Marla's back muscles; her arms wrapped around Marla's front, cupping a hot, moist tit with one hand while the other's nails dug into Marla's blonde, nylon-covered crotch in sweet revenge. Karen pressed her lips close to Marla's ear and whispered, "I've got the drop on you, cunt." She slowly, deliberately clawed the remnants of material away from Marla's crotch and raked her hand across the full tit she held in her other hand, silently torturing the blonde. Marla wriggled slowly against the other girl, pulling her clutching hands away from her body. Twisting, the girls engaged in a slow motion test of strength, wrist against wrist as Marla struggled to turn the tables on her tormentor without alerting the person above them. Karen kept the pressure on Marla's breast, tugging a fistful of her blonde pubic curls for good measure. "I ought to milk these fat tits of yours."

"You cheating bitch," Marla breathed hotly. "You're just like every other little pussy who thinks her tits are tough but won't fight with anything but her nails when things get dirty. Why don't you put those hard titties against mine and we'll see who's toughest!" Her sweaty hand slipped out of Karen's grip for a moment, long enough for her to grab the crotch of the brunette's cat suit and tear her cunt naked.

"You want a tit fight, I'll give you one, whore," Karen hissed, pushing Marla away from her roughly. She could barely make out the other girl in the blackness; the girls circled, tracking each other by the sound of their breaths. They were so close Marla could feel the heat of Karen's sweat-drenched tits inches from her. She could smell the other girl, tangy with sweat and sexual heat. Suddenly Marla gasped as she felt Karen's long nipples plunging into her breasts just under her own pink probes; she pivoted, leading with her right tit as she sank her own hard nipples into the yielding flesh of the brunette's boobs, first one, then the other. The girls grunted quietly as they tit-wrestled, feeling out each other's bosoms for weakness. Each still bore faint scars from their earlier scratch fight, and the abrasions added to the tingling, raw meaty feel as their tits massaged one another, sticking and sliding with sweat. Despite the size of both girls' tits they could press in tight enough to feel the other girl's hard belly. Marla groaned as she felt the tingling caress of Karen's bush brushing against her own fur. Her tits were throbbing from the feel of Karen's soft globes kissing, poking and mashing them, but she maintained her confrontational stance, back arched, breasts thrust out deep into her rival's chest. She could feel Karen trembling at the touch of her tits, too, but the other girl was just as determined to dominate their breast duel. Above them the sounds of an intruder had faded down the hallway, and the girls allowed themselves rougher contact; their grunts and groans of pain and pleasure increased in volume as they traded tit thrusts.

"You wanted to get milked, baby---this is how I'm gonna do it!" Marla snarled, smacking her tits into Karen's.

"Fuck you!" Karen growled back, jamming her own sweaty pair into the blonde's. "You're the one who's getting milked tonight!"

The combatants began to trade harder and harder tit smacks, slapping their heavy boobs together, slashing nipples across each other's jiggling boobs; the wet smack of sweat-drenched tit against tit echoed in the darkness of the stairwell again and again; for ten minutes the girls slammed hot breasts together in near silence, and Marla's fury grew along with her body temperature. "I hope you liked straddling me in that makeup chair tonight, bitch, because that's the last chance you'll ever have to look down on this body!"

"You're wrong, girl," Karen breathed coolly. "I'm gonna be coming on top of your hot snatch in about five minutes."

"You'll be coming, all right, but it'll be with your bare ass pressed against this floor, and you're gonna be looking up at me begging me to finish you off."

Karen suddenly lunged into her; their arms locked and the girls' slippery bodies strained against each other. There was a loud smack as Marla's bare back hit a wall behind them, and Karen forced her body against the blonde's with brutal intensity. She felt Karen's thighs bracing against hers, locking around them knee to knee and forcing her well-muscled legs apart. Marla had always wondered what those tight, sexy legs could do, and now they were doing it to her. "That's how you want to fight, whore?" Karen sank her teeth into Marla's neck, filling her mouth with sweaty skin and muscle.

"You little bitch, I dare you to fuck fight with me, I DARE you!" Marla growled. She'd had all she could take from this bitch. She met the brunette leg to leg and brought their crotches into full contact. Both girls squealed as Karen immediately met the challenge, pressing the full length of her cunt against her blonde rival's. Even here she was amazed by the strength in the other girl's hips; she felt her bare ass smacked roughly against the cool plaster of the wall she was pinned to. She twisted out of Karen's bite and for a few frantic seconds the girls' mouths danced around each other looking for an opening until Marla clamped her teeth down on the soft line of Karen's jaw. The brunette's cunt was like a branding iron against her own hot bush, her rough dark pubes lashing like steel wool against Marla's silky blonde fur. Marla slashed the last remnants of Karen's cat suit away from her muscular ass and dug her battered nails into the girl's naked buns. She squeezed and launched an all out grind on Karen's pussy, digging deep through the brunette's thick bush for her vulva. She could feel a stiff, hot clit already forcing its way out through the jungle of pubic hair. She was almost surprised to notice her own clit had swollen enough to meet it length to length in the stifling heat of their joined pussies. Both girls squealed at the touch of clit against clit, and in the single electric moment of contact Marla was able to throw Karen off of her. The girls grappled away from the wall, stumbling against the hard marble of the stairs as they wrestled for dominance. Marla felt her elbow strike hard against a banister as she went down, but the pain barely registered now in her desperation to finish this duel. Still, Karen's strength prevailed as the hot wetness of her body smacked down on Marla's; she forced the blonde down with both hands in her hair, and as the blonde moaned in pain she forced her open mouth down on Marla's and plunged her tongue deeply into the blonde's mouth. Marla jammed her own tongue back against the invader, drank in the sweet taste of Karen's mouth as she took her own two handfuls of brunette hair. The girls still wrestled, burning tits still forced together, but this time it was Marla whose cheerleader thighs prevailed in a test of strength, prying Karen's thick legs apart. She knew her grip on Karen's curly dark hair was stronger than the brunette's was on her straight, silky locks, and sure enough the other girl slipped and Marla wrestled her naked body back against the stairs and pressed herself down on the other girl hungrily. She pussy punched Karen, ramming her crotch down hard until she felt the other girl's ass meet the stair step under her. Karen's strong thighs snaked around her lower body, locking them together, and Marla felt the other girl's hands leave their grip on her hair, nails raking down her back until they stopped to dig into her creamy, muscled buns.

"Come on and wrestle my big clit, you cunt!" Karen snarled, jabbing her tits up into Marla's roughly. Marla obligingly pressed down with all the strength of her hips, probing for the brunette's hard sex horn. Once again she slid her slippery clit along the length of her rival's, and Karen expertly caught it, knotting the two fleshy clitorises together.

"I'm going to fuck your pussy off, bitch!" Marla hissed; she started a rhythmic, circular gyration of her hips, trying to wind her clit around Karen's before the other girl could tangle her up. Her nipples were searing as they cut across the glistening skin of Karen's breasts; she paused to maul her enemy's sensuous mouth while Karen smacked and clawed at her ass for her trouble. The brunette was groaning, tears in her eyes as she squirmed under Marla, grinding every  inch of her body that she could against the blonde's. Marla continued to pump cunt, muscles leaping in her back as she forced Karen's head back from their sex bite; she dipped her head and began to bite, purposely and savagely at the brunette's soft, sweaty tits, chewing at her hard dark nipples as she raked her cunt across her dark-haired opponent's, sliding long clit across clit. Karen's body finally began to be wracked with the jerkiness of orgasm, her powerful hips thrashing until even Marla slipped from her sweat-soaked body---both girls tumbled to the floor, almost too exhausted even to rise to their knees. With a wet smack Marla pinned Karen to the cold floor, mounting her cunt to cunt, chest to chest, and furiously thrust her pussy into the girl until she pumped the final cum cries from her. She raised her upper body in victory, burning crotch still pressing down on the sex of the other girl, and drove two smacking punches into Karen's soaked tits to punctuate her victory, smacking the other girl's tear-stained face for good measure. "You better think twice before you challenge my body again, baby," Marla whispered raggedly, panting over her defeated rival. "Now get up. We're going back to the dressing room, Dresser!"