Bob Guccione was sitting behind his desk working hard on expanding his Penthouse Empire. He was making headway in a lot of areas, but he still ran the #2 publication in the industry. And it was a very distant second to Playboy Inc. Just then his phone rang, it was his private line rather than the phone that went through the switchboard, so he picked it up without hesitation. He glanced over at the caller ID as an after thought as the receiver came up to the side of his head.

“What the fuck does this bitch want now?” he thought as he picked up the phone. "And what can I do for the heiress to the Playboy throne?" he asked as he recognized Christy Hefner's phone number.
"Hi Bob! I'm glad that I caught you at your desk!" Christy began and as she got into her pitch, he realized ‘caught’ was defiantly the appropriate term to describe his situation.

“Mental note to self,” Bob jotted down on his pad. “Check caller ID before answering the fucking phone!”

"Bob it's been awhile since our girls have gotten together to mix it up. You know as the loser of the last series it's your obligation to issue a challenge for the next series." She continued.

"Christy, I'm well aware of what my obligations are. But believe it or not, things are going just fine around here without the added publicity of the tournament series," was his curt reply to the pushy bitch and a smile flitted his lips as he hoped Hef lived another 25 years.

"I'm sure that every thing is fine there at #2 headquarters,” Christy purred, sticking the needle in a bit. “I thought you might be too ashamed after the performance of your last set of champions at our last meet to step up and issue the challenge. If your girls aren't up to it, I understand."

"First of all Christy, fuck you and your #2 bullshit! For the record, my girls have been far too busy producing videos and working on our web site for me to take them away for a circus stunt!" came his heated reply.

"Temper! Temper! Mr. Guccione! I was just trying to help you through an awkward situation! If you feel that your girls aren't up for the challenge, I understand!" bellowed Christy as she slammed the phone down back into its cradle.

Bob was pissed at Christy for slamming the phone in his ear as his ear drum continued to pound almost a minute later.

"Fuck that little shit! Who does she think she is!" he thought as he buzzed his secretary and demanded she get Hef on the phone! "Hef! I was just blessed with a phone call from your lovely daughter Christy breaking my balls about another Playboy-Penthouse tournament! Since she slammed the phone down in my ear before I could finish, give her a message. Tell her to give me a call when she doesn't have her head shoved so far up her ass and we'll talk. Until then, tell her to lose my number and not to bother me any more!"

That was all Hef was able to hear before the dial tone began coming through his earpiece. He buzzed his daughter's office over the intercom and screamed, "Christy dammit! Get your ass in here right this minute!"

With all the parts of her latest plan falling into place, Christy figured she'd have no problem eating a little crow.

"I just got off the phone with Bob Guccione and he gave me quite the earful! What the hell are you up to now!" asked Hef.

"Say no more dear old daddy of mine. I'll call him right back and straighten out everything," was her honey-coated answer.

She was up to something! Again! But Hef had no idea what, "Just try and keep yourself and the magazine out of trouble for once!" he pleaded.

"I'm on it dad! I'll call him back right now!" Christy said as she glided out of his office.

"Here we go again!" Hef thought. "Now I know why lions eat their young."

The bells on Bob's private line sprung to life once more and as he glanced at the caller ID before picking up, he thought, "That bitch sure doesn't waist any time when she's on the prowl. Be careful Goochy! I smell a set up!"

"OK Christy, I know that you're up to something. Keep your sales pitch short and sweet and don't try and jerk me off!" was the way that he answered the phone.

"Bob! I'm insulted! First of all, I'm not up to anything and second, the only reason I called was to try to keep the rivalry alive. You and I both know it's good for the business of both magazines!"

"Short and sweet Christy! The meter is running here!"

"OK Bob. The abridged version is I'd like to set up another tournament. I appreciate you're as busy in your camp as we are here at Playboy, but to make sure we don't let things cool off too much; put one of your girls up against one of mine so we can film a tease commercial for an upcoming event at the end of the season. It can be a staged fight with no real punches thrown. When we have more time and want to pickup where we left off, we flood the market with the commercials to hype the event. That's it! Short! Sweet! No strings attached!"

Bob was very leery dealing with Christy Hefner since he knew very well she didn't do anything for anybody that didn't benefit her personally. "OK Christy, despite my better judgment I'll trust you this once. Give me some time and we should be able to put something together in about a week."

"That would be perfect Bob. But to get as much mileage from this as we can, we should put one of my Playmates of the Year against one of your Pets of the Year. I'll even pick my girl first so you can find a good match up for her. I'll call your secretary later with the name and all the details."

"Don't fuck with me on this one Christy! Before I sign anything, my lawyers are going over the contract with a fine tooth comb!"

"Bob if it’d make you happy, have your lawyers draw up a document guaranteeing the safety of your girl and I'll sign it. Give me a couple of hours for some last minute details and I'll stop at your place and ink the deal."

Shazam! Christy was getting good at this. The PMOY of her choice would be the only one in town next week.

“I'll have daddy call the bitch so she doesn't suspect a thing,” she thought as she leaned back, propped her feet against her desk and slowly teased her clit until she came. Then she straightened her clothes, changed into fresh panties and headed down the hall to set the wheels in motion and bring Hef up to speed on the deal she’d brokered with Penthouse.

"Dad, I have some last minute errands to take care of if we want to make this happen. Bob insisted on a PMOY vs. Pet of the Year to get maximum exposure for the commercial. Can you find a girl to step up to the plate on this for us? Just call Bob's secretary with the name when you're done so he can find a good opponent."

Before he had a chance to answer her she was already out the door and making her way back to her office.

“Well, this seems harmless enough; maybe it’ll work out after all,” Hef thought as he picked up the phone and started calling to get a girl picked out.

The week passed quickly and the two owners found themselves in the film studio prepared to film the commercial. There would be several takes or rounds with the two women in various outfits to sell the sex angle without actually showing too much skin so the commercials could be hawked on network TV. The first round would be evening gowns with low necklines and high leg slits. The second would find the two women in sexy lingerie. A tug of a bra strap here or there would be enough to suggest that just about anything could happen during the actual matches later in the year. Cordial greetings were exchanged between Bob and Hef as they settled in by ringside next to each other to watch the "staged" catfight.

"God Bob, I didn't think we’d be able to pull this off. When you insisted on a PMOY, I had a tough time digging one up on short notice. I had only one in town this week so she's doing me a huge favor."

When he saw the look on Guccione's face, Hef knew something was up.

"What do you mean when I insisted on a PMOY? That was Christy's idea!" She’d done it to them again!

"Christy!" Hef bellowed as he looked around for his daughter who was nowhere to be seen.

The director and camera crew were in place and they called for the introduction of the two women. This was Hollywood after all and time was money. Hef and Bob knew it was to late to stop anything at this point and just hoped for the best. The music began to play as the director yelled action. First to make her way down toward the ring was 1997 Pet of the Year Elizabeth Hilden in a royal blue gown accented with silver floral print that wrapped it's way around her plunging neckline that showed ample cleavage. Both owners were speechless as the blue gown was the perfect compliment to her blonde hair and blue eyes. As she stepped between the two ropes, the slit on the side of her gown became more apparent as the dress slid up to mid thigh of her long golden tanned leg.

It was a moment before either man trusted his voice enough to speak, then Hef gave it a shot, "Jeez Bob! Where’ve you been hiding her?"

Next the pitch of the music changed and the 1998 Playmate of the Year Karen McDougal began making her way down to the ring. Karen was wearing a white blouse and tartan skirt, the typical schoolgirls costume of many sexual fantasies. Both owners took note of the stark contrast between the two women. The Pet was a very elegantly dressed blonde while the Playmate was a plainly dressed brunette. Liz's hair and makeup looked like it was professionally done for a black tie affair while Karen’s dark hair was in pigtails.

Hef had totally forgotten Christy for the moment as he climbed up on the ring apron, "Karen, what's with the outfit? You look great and all but look at the way that Hilden is dressed! If you’re wearing glasses I'd swear you’re a librarian!"

"Look Hef! You don't like the way that I'm dressed then talk to your darling daughter. My evening gown’s still in the locker room! This is what she had me wear and she insisted on doing my hair herself!" was Karen's reply.

Hef knew that he shouldn't be surprised at this point. Christy's long standing hatred for Karen was legendary around the mansion but Jesus! Why did she always have to drag the magazine into her childish antics?

Hef turned to Bob in hopes of either calling off the event or just giving Karen enough time to change into something more in line with the way that Hilden was dressed, but before the words came out of his mouth, the director yelled "Action" and Liz charged at Karen from behind while she was still facing Hef outside the ring! Liz fired several punches at her kidneys and Karen slumped to her knees with her hands clutching her back to try and deflect some of the blows and provide some protection.

With Karen favoring her back, Liz bounced her head off the turnbuckle several times till her head spun. Given the open invitation, Liz planted a stiletto heel directly into the area just under Karen's skull and used her foot to shove Karen’s face into the middle turnbuckle. Grabbing both top ropes, Liz pulled back with her arms for leverage as she extended her leg and locked her knee, trapping Karen in the painful position.

As Bob and Hef argued over what the hell was going on, Christy appeared behind them and waved her arms to get Liz's attention out of their line of site. As Liz looked over toward the trio, Christy gave her thumbs up with both hands. The next signal she gave was to turn the palms of her hands up and then started moving them rapidly as if to say crank up the pressure. Since Christy was paying her ten times what Guccione was paying her to film the commercial, Liz slowly began to grind the heel of her shoe into the back of Karen's head like she was drilling for oil.

Just then the director yelled, "Cut! Excellent ladies! That looked very real. We'll print that take and see you both back here in fifteen for the catfight scene."

Liz wiped the glistening sweat from her brow due to the bright movie lights and headed back to her room to change into her next outfit while Karen slumped in the corner with her cheek resting on the turnbuckle.

At each other's throats when the action in the ring had stopped, Hef and Bob both stormed off to the parking lot to retrieve their copies of the contract dictating the rules for the "staged catfight" but Christy wasted no time in enlisting the help of two of the cameramen to help Karen back to her dressing room. Once there, Christy turned to each of the cameramen, who still could not believe what they had just witnessed, and began barking orders.

"You! Go get your camera equipment and the director! Tell him the rest of the commercial will be filmed in this dressing room!"

When he didn't move instantly, in a very commanding voice she screamed, "Now!"

That got his attention and he bolted out the door so she turned to the second cameraman and asked, "What's your name?"

He was barely able to stammer, "B...B...Bill."

"Well today is your lucky day Bill! Have you ever spent any time alone with a Playmate?"

The shocked look on his face was answer enough to her question.

"Well, listen closely! I'm going to go get the other girl and I want to start filming as soon as we get back so I need you to strip her out of that costume down to just her bra and panties. If you do as you're told, later I'll even let you take those off too."

By the size of the pup tent growing in his pants, Christy knew she’d sent the right man for the camera and kept the right man to perform the more delicate and rewarding task.

"Now don't you disappoint me Bill,” she purred. “Or you'll never work in this town again!" were her parting words as she stormed out the door.

Christy ran down the hallway and grabbed Liz, telling her, "You're doing great hon! Keep up the good work. We’ve had a slight change of plans though. It doesn't look like that coward is going to answer the bell for the next scene. I already have cameras set up in her dressing room and when I give you the cue, you charge in and start kicking her ass. Remember, the more humiliating you make the beating, the thicker the envelope is going to be at the end of the night."

Back in Karen's room, the lucky cameraman slowly unbuttoned the front of her blouse and rolled her onto her stomach. He slid her shirt over her shoulders and then unzipped the schoolgirl's skirt before he began to work it down off her luscious and yet untouched body. When he rolled her onto her back to finish sliding it down her legs, he saw one of the bra straps had slid down her arm allowing one of the cups to slip baring her right nipple.

After he completed the task given to him by Christy, he knelt next to Karen and cradled her head between his knees as he gently brushed her pigtails aside and fully took in the sight that lay spread out before him. Unable to control himself any longer, he slid his hand down the front of her chest and allowed his fingertips to make their way between the fabric and her breast. After all, Ms. Hefner had already promised her to him after the commercial and what he did now, nobody would ever know. He slowly worked his finger in a circular pattern around her areola till she began to stir. In a panic, he pulled up the bra cup and strap and jumped back, letting Karen’s head to slide down his legs and off his knees. Unfortunately for Karen, his quick retreat allowed the back of her head to hit into the tile floor, returning her to the dazed state she was just starting to recover from.

In the back of the Penthouse limo Hef and Bob rifled through the fine print in the contract for the commercial, "Look Hef, I have nothing to do with what's going on in there. This contract was written by my lawyers and reviewed by Christy. She had a couple of changes that she insisted on and my lawyers guaranteed the safety of my girl so I signed what I thought was a fair document."

After that last statement, Hef knew exactly what to look for in the wording and surer then shit, the safety of the Pet was guaranteed in writing. Reading down the therefore's and to wits, it was plain as day. Not only was the Playboy bunny's safety not guaranteed, it was rabbit season! Both men agreed to void the contract and charged into the studio before any more damage could be done. But when they reached the ring, they found that they were the only two there.

"That Fucking Christy! So help me this time if she wants to see Karen get her ass kicked again, I'm going to make her try to do it herself! I don't think Karen would have any problem with that!" Hef huffed.

The cameraman placed Karen in her chair in front of the makeup table; her head slouched forward supported by her arms crossed on the tabletop. The first cameraman returned to the room with his camera but told Christy he couldn’t find the director.

"Well fuck him! We'll film without him. Now set up those cameras!" Christy snapped.

Karen awoke to an incredible pain at the base of her skull. She slid her right arm out from underneath her and ran her fingers over the site that was causing her so much pain she felt dampness. When she withdrew her hand she found it was covered in blood. Her hand returned to the area to try to massage away the pain. But just then, with the cameras rolling, Liz walked up behind Karen, grabbed her wrist and twisted her arm up behind her back. Karen went from being startled to being on the receiving end off a barrage of punches to her right side as Liz fired away to her unprotected ribs.

Karen was having a hard time catching her breath when Liz picked up the hand mirror from the tabletop and broke it over the Playmate's head, sending little shards of glass showering to the floor. Then Liz grabbed Karen's hair and yanked the rubber bands out that were holding her pigtails in place.

"There!” Liz snarled. “Those stupid pigtails looked ridiculous!"

Keeping a firm grasp on Karen’s brown locks, Liz sent her flying across the room where Karen crashed into the wall. Not giving her opponent a moment to rest, Liz was on top of Karen in a flash.

"Good! Good Liz! Now rip those fucking clothes off!" were Christy's words of encouragement. "You two better be getting all this on tape!" she scolded the two cameramen. Bill the cameraman swallowed hard. After all, Christy had promised him the pleasure of removing the rest of Karen's clothing but from the way Liz was tearing into Karen it didn’t look like his services would be required for that task.

“Oh well, keep filming,” he thought. “It really didn't matter who does the honors as long as I get the fruits of their labor.”

Liz looked to Christy, who was in the process of fanning herself with handful of bills as if to say, 'Do what you're told and these are yours.'

Seeing red, or green in this case, Liz made quick work of Karen's bra, then used it to securely bind Karen's wrists behind her. A well-placed boot to the belly sent Karen rolling onto her back with a grunt. Liz plopped down onto Karen's belly and bounced several times as the Playmate gasped for air.

"And what do we have here?" she asked as she began to playfully slap Karen’s bare breasts back and forth with forehand and backhand slaps. The intensity of the slapping increased with each slap until Karen's breasts were both bright cherry red. The Playmate fought back tears as Christy glared down at her wearing a broad smile.

"Excellent Liz! Keep it up baby!"

Liz climbed off Karen and pulled her to her feet by the hair where Liz powered several knee lifts into her belly with such force that Karen’s feet left the ground. When the barrage stopped, Karen began to fold forward at the waist but Liz didn't let her go far before she straightened her back up with a handful of hair. Holding her in place, Liz lined up one last blow and dropped Karen with a straight right to the chin. Karen's eyes rolled back in her head as she sprawled at the foot of the makeup table. Looking back to Christy, Liz asked if she was satisfied.

"Not quite my blonde warrior," Christy grumped as she pulled a second wad of money from her purse. "I believe these two fine gentlemen still have tape left so give me another five or ten minutes of demolition and this is yours too," she said, holding up a fistful of twenties.

"OK! It's your cash," laughed Liz who returned to work with gusto.

She bent down over Karen and began to work her panties over her hips and down her legs leaving her lying out cold and completely naked. Tossing the panties to Christy for a souvenir, Liz sat on Karen's belly facing her feet and using an open hand, palm down, she began to slowly work her fingertips in a slow circular motion on Karen's womanhood, stimulating her and engorging the area with blood. When Karen involuntarily became aroused and moisture flooded her labia, Liz slapped as hard as she could on the very sensitive area. Karen, who was trying to fight back to consciousness, sat bolt upright when the blow connected.

"Where the fuck do you think you're going Playslut!" Liz yelled as she drove her elbow back into Karen's face knocking her back down to the floor.

Liz stood up over Karen and stomped on her belly causing a last grunt to escape her lips. Then Liz posed as she shifted her weight to that foot, making sure that the cameramen had all the footage they’d need for the commercial. Finally, Liz walked up to Christy and collected the bounty she’d earned and left to collect her clothes; laughing all the way to the bank.

The cameramen began to pack up their equipment but were stopped when Christy bellowed, "I'm not done with you guys yet! Keep the tape rolling."

Christy approached the downed Playmate and took the same pose Liz had ended with as she stomped down on Karen's belly. She then straddled Karen's waist and began to tear at the Playmate's breast with her claws. Karen was now awake again so Christy sunk her nails into Karen's nipples and began to twist as hard as she could.

"Well Karen,” Christy hissed. “In the end it looks like you got what you had coming to you!"

With one last brutal bitch-slap to Karen’s face, Christy got up and made her way out of the dressing room. As she neared the door, she yelled back to the cameraman that she had sent for the cameras and the director, "You! Come with me!"

They left the dressing room, locking the door behind them. Hef and Bob met them as they re-entered the arena and immediately tore into her.

"What the fuck were you thinking Christy? This bullshit has to stop!"

"Relax dad, wait'll you see the footage we got for you. Let's go up to the control room and I'll show you why the next tournament is going to be a box office smash!"

Back in the dressing room, Bill the cameraman knelt over Karen and wiped the tears from her cheeks. He slowly made his way down the front of her body, stopping to caress her bruised and battered breasts before he continued South, working his hand across her once taut abs toward the Promised Land. He couldn't restrain himself any longer. He stood at her feet, undid his belt and feverishly began working his pants down till he stepped out of them. Just when he was about to kneel between her legs, he stopped to admire the sight one last time. Then before he knew what hit him, Bill’s balls exploded in pain as Karen's foot shot up scoring a direct hit. He stumbled to the couch and collapsed on it trying to rub the pain away.

"GOD I'm going to need a cold shower. Or better yet, I'll just sit in a tub of ice," he thought aloud.

Karen had picked up one of the pieces of glass from the broken mirror and working like a woman possessed, had cut through her bra freeing her bound hands. There was no way that this clown was coming near her.

"Sorry Bill, guess it wasn't your lucky day after all!" Karen growled as she kicked him under the jaw and knocked him stiff.