RED PASSION, part 5 (Patreon)

Priscilla felt herself sinking back into the crowd of bodies next to her rival. Without mercy or patience, the hostile mass of women pounded, scraped and crushed her nice figure from top to bottom, fingers, elbows, breasts, hips, asses, knees, and feet looking cruelly for her smooth skin and firm flesh. At least she knew she wasn’t alone in her multi-female harassment, finding some comfort in Jeanne’s expression of anger and occasional hurt. As she tried to advance against all that resistance, Priscilla could somehow almost smell the hatred and jealousy above the heavy scent of perfumes, but even in the center of all those aromas, it was a specific fragrance that flooded her nose, one that had already assaulted her at the window, a mixture of expensive perfume and the soft scent of silky skin—Jeanne’s scent.

Turning her face just a little, Priscilla met the other redhead’s defiant gaze, while around both of them, the resentment between all those young aspiring models somehow reached its peak. Suddenly, from a couple of places in that chaos, came shouts of fighting to Priscilla’s ears and, just two or three seconds later, another brawl broke out not far from her—a blonde and a brunette started shoving each other. Priscilla’s body flooded with adrenaline as a fight-or-flight instinct took control of her racing heart. For a moment she didn’t know whether to run as far as she could from that mass of bodies or seize the moment to grab the reddish hair of the arrogant woman named Jeanne Rouge.

However, something made the decision for her and, before she knew it, Jeanne’s body was smashing into hers, both green-eyed beauties pushed against each other side to side by the thrusts of fights that were beginning to multiply. The other woman’s right breast was pressed against Priscilla’s left gland and, from shoulders to heels, the redheads found themselves trapped for a moment, unable to move in any direction.

“Get away from me,” both growled at the same time.

Contradicting her own words, Priscilla pushed herself a little harder against Jeanne, wanting to show her that she was not intimidated, and immediately felt the pressure back from her rival. Then she felt some nails scratching one of her butt cheeks through her skirt, and a foot stepping on her, but neither of these treacherous attacks came from the other redhead. Ignoring everything that came from lesser women, Priscilla focused entirely on Jeanne, twisting her torso slightly in that compressed arena to seek a little more frontal contact. With a look that mixed hunger and confidence, her newfound nemesis rotated her body as well, and the two touching breasts pressed together a little harder.

“Bitch,” Priscilla exhaled in a quiet whisper, savoring the word with a certain toxic pleasure as, like an echo, she heard the same insult all over the room—how many female rivalries were forming at that very moment, just like hers with the other redhead, she wasn’t able to quantify.

“Bitch,” Jeanne replied as she pushed her right boob against Priscilla left globe. A soft, restrained grunt erupted from both throats as the young breasts were crushed equally, but before Priscilla could truly feel Jeanne, two women fell against them, pushing the tall redheads apart.

Several organizers entered the room shouting and tried to stop the catfights as Priscilla reeled in a sea of shoving, hair pulling and cruel words. Like a cornered cat, she scratched her way through, and received several in response, her eyes always searching for that reddish mane that matched hers in length, hairstyle, and shine in that messy melee, but she had completely lost sight of her.

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Choosen by Demba. Words: 612 words.

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Demba, you can choose from which text story you want the next part: from this story or from another one, and I'll put you in the queue.

Those of you who have not yet chosen which story/s you want, let me know so I can put you in the corresponding queue.

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TOMORROW:

DISCUSSION TOPIC: Have you ever witnessed a female fight in real life?

INSPIRATION: NATALIE SULIMAN