Mary Jane's head spun from being choked out, fortunately much of the pain in her body and face had now numbed, but she could only look up at her tormentor in confusion.

"I said clean up. I would say I want you looking your best, but lets be honest, the best you've ever looked was when your face was buried in my ass, crotch, or tits." Felicia mocked with a wide smile. Mary Jane's expression turned hateful. The topless blonde, her tight workout pants like a second skin, her pompous tits, her cocky grin... she wanted her gone. She wanted to dig her nails into her face and twist it into inhuman positions. She wanted to punch her tits until she couldn’t raise her fists anymore. But now she was at her mercy. This was their third altercation, and the third time she was cheated. She had been ambushed, tied up, and beaten without mercy. Clearly this costumed freak was intimidated by her, why else would she resort to these tactics. Mary Jane could still taste her husband in her mouth, and knew she had struck a sound blow tonight. Why would Peter be so quick to allow MJ to take him unless he wasn’t satisfied? He still loved his wife, still wanted her. She only needed to get through this ordeal, recover, then she'd come back stronger than ever. A odd but increasingly familiar scent wifted past her nose. A dirty, foul sulpherous scent. It passed as quickly as it came. For now she had to cooperate. She took the small towel and wiped the blood from her face and chest.

Just as she was finishing, Felicia once again grabbed Mary Jane by her hair, and unsympathetically pulled her to her feet, grabbing her arm and twisting it behind her in a hammerlock. The surprised redhead squealed first in shock then pain. Felicia roughly pushed Mary Jane in front of the large mirror that dominated one of the walls, "Why do you keep challenging me? Do you enjoy being dominated by a real woman? Or is it because you know the closest you'll ever get to Pete from now on is by being consumed by the woman he loves and fucks regularly, in your own bed? Or is it jealousy? Jealous that no matter how much work you do, no matter how much of Peter's money you spend, you'll always be a self centered bitchy little girl, ordinary in every sense?" Felicia's words cut deep. Mary Jane's eyes fell on the mirror in front of them. Now more than ever their physical differences seemed to stand out. Felicia seemed to tower over her. Her measurements and curves seemed completely overwhelming. She felt like a child at a museum, standing next to some world renown artist's sculpture of a goddess. Her silver hair, pale skin, and bright white light from the fluorescent bulb overhead light gave the effect of some celestial beauty standing looking down on her from the heavens.. Felicia's white teeth flashed in a wide smile as she watched her restrained rival looking her over.

"Like what you see? I’ve noticed how aroused you have been getting when we fight. I also know about how you've been slandering me. Telling anyone who will listen that your body eclipses mine. Well, we have a mirror here. Lets compare, shall we?" Mary Jane felt a sinking feeling in her stomach. She felt the strength in her arms and legs drain away. Felicia gave her captured arm a sharp yank, a nonverbal warning that Mary Jane acknowledged with a grimace. Releasing her arm, Felicia stepped up beside her. "Tell me... who has the better ass, Mary Plain? And don't lie... I'll know if you're lying." Felicia gently ran one hand over Mary Jane's bare ass and the other over her own. She then grabbed it roughly, digging her fingernails in. Mary Jane knew what she wanted to hear, and also knew she couldn't deny it anymore, "Y-you do Felicia..." Felicia unsheathed her dagger like nails and reassuringly patted Mary Jane's round ass, "Mmmmmm... why is my ass better than yours?"

Mary Jane wanted to cry. It didn't seem fair to her what was happening... where was the justice in her abuse, both physical and now emotional? Why was she made to suffer at the hands of such an arrogant, self assured, harpy as Felicia? But she also know there was nothing she could do about it... she wanted to fight back, but she was tired, sore, and completely demoralized at this point, while Felicia was still strong, fresh, and confident. Mary Jane knew her only choice was to play along with Felicia's degrading game... and even worse, another part of her knew that to do so, she'd have to voice all her fears and issues, giving credence to her envy of Felicia's superiority. Looking over the contrasting reflections, she quietly said "I-it's rounder than mine."

Felicia turned to the mirror and ran her delicate fingers over her own buttocks, so Mary Jane could see it, "Mmm-hmmmm... go on." Mary Jane choked back her tears, and went on as Felicia watched her reflection with amusement over her shoulder, "Y-your ass it t-tighter and firmer than mine. Y-your hips are wider a-and curvier as well." Felicia slid her hands sensually up over her hips now, tracing Mary Jane's comparison of their bodies, "So you're saying your ass is fatter and saggier than mine, and your body is dumpier... right?" Mary Jane nodded in response, and Felicia chided her, "Don't nod... SAY IT."

"My a-ass is fatter and saggier... yours is firm and tight. M-my hips are dumpier, y-yours are curvier." Mary Jane’s knew her ass was certainly neither fat nor saggy. Though judging by their reflections, it may as well be. No matter how many lunges or squats Mary Jane’s personal trainer put her through, she’d never been able to achieve the perfect curves the Hardy bitch possessed. She knew Peter realized this as well. The stinging memory of a recent pictorial came to mind. Some sleazy tabloid photographer (nothing like her husband) had captured pictures of Spider-Man running his hands over Black Cat’s hips and ass as the two celebrated the arrest of some goofball criminal who wore a fishbowl on his head. As she was forced to look it over now, a small, stifled part of Mary Jane wanted to reach out and grope at her tormentor’s ass.

Felicia smiled and turned to face the mirror again, now running her hands over her impressive six-pack, "What about my stomach, Mary Piggy? Is my stomach better than yours?"

Mary Jane again looked at their reflections. Her abs were the one thing she had real control over, and she had worked them to exhaustion prior to their last fight. Still she never achieved the same sexy cut that seemed to come naturally to Felicia. Mary Jane was unaware of Felicia's own inhuman work out regimen, so to her it simply seemed like another unfair advantage that came to this vile whore. Still, there it was in front of her face. Her now mildly toned (and thoroughly bruised) abs next to Felicia's own sculpted six pack. "Y-your stomach is flatter than mine, a-and your a-abs are more toned," Mary Jane was mortified as she choked out every word. Felicia ran her hands over Mary Jane's tenderized midsection, sending a shiver through MJ as she anticipated some horrible act of violence yet to come, "AND," Felicia prompted, wanting more out of Mary Jane's self-humiliation, "A-and, my stomach is p-pudgy and weak." Felicia purred in agreement, and moved her hands up behind Mary Jane's back, jerking her forward forcibly. Mary Jane's worst fears were now being realized as Felicia forced their chests together, Felicia's massive tits overwhelming and pushing Mary Jane's less impressive breasts back into her ribcage. The image in the mirror of Felicia’s staggering profile eclipsing and dominating hers mortified Mary Jane, but not as much as what she knew was coming.