In the center of the mats, Sonny and Sara took a step back; the bell rang and the match started as they approached each other. Sonny opened with powerful punches, looking to work Sara’s body; she faded back, away from his fists, and I winced in sympathy as she shot forward, aiming a quick, slashing kick between his legs.
Sonny always seemed to fall for this move; I knew he’d be back up in a minute, but I made a mental note to work with him on how to avoid it as he fell down, holding himself and moaning; Sara must’ve seen our team’s previous fights as well as she’d targeted his dicklit expertly, smashing it into his pubic bone with her foot.
“Damn, Sonny, down in one hit?” Sara taunted him, laying a kick into his body. “You know, I’ve got an extra big strapon just for you, big man. How’s that sound?” She kicked him again, putting a stop to his attempt to get up. “Gonna cum right in that ass of yours! How’s that sound?”
Sonny finally managed to get up; I was always impressed at how much punishment he could take, and he swatted away Sara’s attempt to grab him, making her back up. He put his fists up and closed on her with a growl, swinging knockout hooks at her head.
Sara ducked under these and came forward, faking another kick; Sonny dropped his hands to catch her foot, and she smoothly dropped into a crouch, sweeping his legs out and dumping him on the mat. She took a step back and charged, aiming a kick up at his jaw.
Sonny ducked out of the way, leaving Sara barrelling past him; he got up into a crouch and charged after her. By the time Sara managed to turn around and stop, he was right behind her, and he nailed her with a textbook tackle, his shoulder smashing into her flat stomach as he took her down to the floor.
Sonny landed hard on top of Sara and moved to attack, but she stopped him dead, grabbing his head and forcing her thumbs into his eyes. Sonny screamed, rolling off her and holding his face, as I shot out of my chair: “Foul! Foul!”
“What?” Inez wandered over to talk to me. Over her shoulder I could see Sonny writhing on the floor as Sara reached between his legs and started squeezing the life out of his dicklit.
“You have to call a foul,” I tried. “Eye pokes aren’t allowed.”
“I didn’t see it,” Inez told me.
“You didn’t see it?” I snarled, watching as Sara sat on Sonny’s stomach, both hands between his legs, working the hold. “You need glasses or what?”
“What was that?” Inez got up in my face. “I’ll throw you right out of here!”
“Go ahead! Go ahead!”
“To them!” she barked, pointing at the crowd as a dozen sets of hungry eyes turned on me. “Now sit down!”
With a sigh I sat down; Inez stared me down for a second before going back over to where Sara was torturing Sonny, the big transman writhing on the floor, wailing as his tormentor punished his dicklit. Inez leaned down to ask him if he wanted to give up; he shook his head, and managed to buck Sara off, sending her flying.
Still, I could tell he wasn’t doing too well as he got up; as always, his dicklit managed to stay fully engorged despite any punishment it sucked up, but I could see he was a little wobbly on his legs. Sonny could suck up a lot of punishment, but too much at once would put even him down, and I hoped he’d tag out to take a breather.
Of course he didn’t, advancing on Sara with a snarl, trying to take her head off with a massive clothesline. Sara dipped under this and got him with another kick; for the second time in the fight Sonny’s dicklit was crushed between his pubic bone and his opponent’s foot, and he went down on his back, gasping.
“Damn it, Sonny!” I yelled. “You gotta watch those kicks!” Nobody listened; Sara grabbed Sonny’s ankles, pulling his legs apart with a sneer. She attacked his dicklit, grinding it under her heel as Sonny howled, reaching down to hold on to her ankle, but not able to stop her attack.
“Sonny, you always were such a pussy!” Sara snarled as she poured power into her attack. “Can’t even lay a hit on me! I’m going to make you cry like I did all those years ago! You’re just lucky there isn’t a toilet here for me to make you drink out of!”
“Come on, Sonny!” Lucy started cheering and clapping, trying to drown Sara out. “Come on, Sonny! Come on, Sonny!” I joined in: “Come on, Sonny! Come on, Sonny!” A few of the crowd members did as well: “Come on, Sonny! Come on, Sonny!”
I almost missed a clap as I realized that most of the crowd was actually doing a counter chant aimed at Sara: “Cum on Sonny! Cum on Sonny!” (pronounced more like khum). Sara noticed as well, looking up with a huge, mean smile on her face: “What’s that? What do you want?” For a moment the “Come on, Sonny!”s dueled with “Cum on Sonny!”; the second won, overwhelming the first until I could barely even hear myself.
“Well, all right!” Sara crowed at the crowd. “Okay, fine! Watch this!” She dropped Sonny’s ankles, then moved forward and sat on his face; the big guy was in too much pain to do anything but lay there as his bully started having her way with him, roughly grinding her pussy over his face, playing with her tits and moaning theatrically.
“Guess you’re good for one thing, Sonny!” she shrieked over the still booming “Cum on Sonny!”s. “Your ugly mug makes a great fuck rag!” One hand dropped to her clit, her face starting to go slack with pleasure as three camera guys circled her, one zooming in on her face, another one backing up to get a wide shot of Sonny’s swollen gash, and somehow still hard dicklit, pointing and straight up at the ceiling.
I sat back in my chair with a sigh, trying not to squirm at the admittedly hot sight; Sonny just lay there until Sara finished, the dominant fighter bucking her hips lewdly, one hand still working her clit, as she went over the edge, throwing her head back and screaming her climax at the ceiling. Finished, she leaned forward, her chin resting on her chest, eyes closed, as Inez came over to raise one of Sara’s limp arms: “Dominant climax, one point. Gold up, one-zero.”
Sara rolled off Sonny as Mandy started calling for a tag. I could see the gears turning in Sara’s head; Sonny was helpless, and she could score some more points by pressing her attack. I wanted her out of there so Sonny could recover, of course, and decided it was time for a little reverse psychology.
“Scared?” I screamed at Sara. “He’s gonna get up and punch your fucking teeth down your throat! Don’t tell me you’re going to run, girl! Come on, let’s see you keep fighting!” For a second I thought Sara was going to fall for it as she stood up, glaring at me furiously; but she got control of herself, flipping her hair dismissively at me and turning on her heel, her hips swaying with the confidence of victory as she went over to her corner to tag in Mandy.
Mandy sauntered over to where Sonny was still laying on the mat; she rolled her eyes and grabbed his ankles, dragging him over to our corner so Lucy could reach him for the tag, then backed up to allow my wife to come out onto the mats, Lucy giving Sonny’s comatose body a worried glance as she came out into the fighting area.
“You shouldn’t be worried about him,” Mandy told her, stone-faced. “I’m the one who’s about to fuck you up.”
“Yeah?” Lucy snarled, trying her best to put a mean look on her cute features as she raised her fists. “I think I owe you one for what you did to my man!”
“Please,” Mandy laughed, closing in and throwing a quick slap that Lucy blocked with her forearm. “You didn’t hear what he said after we shut the camera off! ‘It’s been ten years since I got fucked by a woman under 400 pounds!’”
“Babe-” I started, but Lucy was already charging Mandy with a wild scream, having fallen for the bait; Mandy faded back, picking her spot and launching a huge front kick into my wife’s stomach, the enemy fighter’s foot sinking deep into the pit of Lucy’s soft tummy.
Lucy froze, then gagged and bent over, coughing up a ball of spit; Mandy grabbed one of Lucy’s thick pigtails, turning my wife up to look into her eyes, then slammed a massive right into the side of her head; Lucy dropped like a rock, landing on the floor in a heap of limbs.
“This is your badass wife?” Mandy smirked at me. I opened my mouth to yell something back, but the enemy fighter was already on the attack, rolling Lucy over onto her back, then dropping her ass square into my wife’s stomach, setting her gagging again as she struggled to breathe.
Mandy quickly tucked Lucy’s hands between the sides of her body and her (Mandy’s) legs; Lucy tried to buck the taller woman off, but she couldn’t get any power into it, still winded. Mandy ignored this attempt, cupping my wife’s face with her left hand, drawing her right back and, for lack of a better term, bitchslapping her, the loud crack of her palm smashing into my wife’s face echoing around the room.
Mandy gave her a backhand, then a third slap, my wife’s cheeks reddening under the assault; Lucy kicked her legs and tried to pull her hands free, but without any success. A second backhand set her eyes watering, which of course her opponent couldn’t help but miss.
“Aww, you gonna cry?” Mandy taunted her. “Gonna cry, you soft bitch?” Another slap. “Let me hear you cry!” Another backhand, then yet another slap, this one sending tears flying off my wife’s face. “What a loser!” Mandy sneered. “Tell you what, loser!” She leaned down, dangling her tits over my wife’s face, waving one of the camera guys closer. “Why don’t you admit what a little loser you are and suck my tits, and maybe I’ll let you give up.”
“Okay,” Lucy sniffled, her voice soft and submissive. “Okay. I’m a loser.”
“Into the camera!” Mandy barked, drawing her hand back for another slap, laughing as Lucy flinched.
“I’m a loser,” Lucy mumbled into the camera.
“Good,” Mandy purred, lowering her breasts in front of Lucy’s face, running her nipples over my wife’s mouth. “Worship them.” Lucy opened her lips, took Mandy’s hard right nipple into her mouth, and bit down.
Mandy screamed a howl of agony, her face going white as she tried to sit up and get off Lucy; my wife hung on with bulldog determination, shaking her head back and forth, the cords of muscle in her neck and jaw standing out from her skin. She grabbed Mandy around the waist, and the taller fighter hammered at her with her fists, kicking and struggling.
“Hey, no biting,” Inez said in a bored voice as she came over. “You gotta let her go. One………. Two…………….”
I don’t know what Inez was counting to, but Lucy released her opponent; Mandy fell off her to the side, cradling her breast and moaning, as my wife got up, staring down at her with murder in her normally kind eyes.
“Get up,” Lucy rasped. Mandy rolled over, and I could see Lucy hadn’t broken the skin, although she had left tooth impressions on Mandy’s areolas. To her credit, I could see Mandy get a grip on herself, smothering the pain under furious anger, her face contouring into a mask of hate as she got up and faced off with my wife.
“You’re going to fucking pay for that,” she spat as the women circled. “I’m going to destroy those fat tits of yours!”
“Whatever,” Lucy snarled back. “That’s what everyone says. Wanna know how they all end up? Flat on their back, worshipping my fat tits.”
Mandy’s response to this was to charge, aiming a knife-edged chop at my wife’s breasts; Lucy slapped the blow away, then landed a return straight to Mandy’s belly. Unfortunately, Mandy just flexed her abs and the punch failed to do any damage; Lucy hadn’t expected this, and was left totally out of position, helpless to stop Mandy from stepping in and tripping her down to the floor.
Lucy landed hard on her back, but rolled right over and started getting up; this was exactly what Mandy had expected, and she was waiting right there, launching a lifting punt into my wife’s stomach, getting so much power into the blow that it flopped Lucy over onto her back, gasping. I realized the kick had hit the same spot as the one Mandy had opened the match with; Lucy had her hands over it, but I could see a nasty little bruise forming there.
Mandy dropped an elbow into Lucy’s face, and I flinched as the tip of Mandy’s elbow smashed into my wife’s mouth. Lucy rolled over onto her chest, cursing through her fingers as she covered her mouth; this left her totally exposed as Mandy straddled her, then sat down on her back, hooking my wife’s arms back over her legs, preparing to administer a camel clutch.
“Might just break your back, bitch!” Mandy crowed as she locked her hands under my wife’s chin and pulled. “Probably stressed from carrying 500 pounds of flab around for so long!” She looked up directly at me with a horrible smile on her face as she started pulling. “Hey, lover boy! Why don’t you come over here and fuck her mouth while I’m doing this? It’ll look great on camera!”
For once I was lost for words, just staring open-mouthed at Mandy as she kept smiling, even as she cinched the hold up, pulling Lucy’s upper body off the mat, my wife moaning as her opponent kept working the hold, one cameraman zooming in on my shocked expression, another one getting Mandy glowing with confidence, a third making sure to get a close-up of Lucy’s big tits on full display.
The only good news was Lucy should be strong enough to buck Mandy off once she caught her breath; Mandy seemed to realize this as well, and as she felt Lucy getting ready to make the attempt, she changed holds, releasing my wife’s chin and instead cupping her large breasts, kneading them gently.
That stopped Lucy, her head dangling down, moaning softly; Mandy clearly had excellent technique, and even from here I could see my wife’s nipples hardening quickly under her fingers.
“Sssh, that’s it,” Mandy leaned down to stage-whisper. “Just lay there and I’ll make you cum quick. You’d like that, right?”
It was a little too early to try this, and Lucy threw Mandy off, sending the taller woman flying. Mandy was quick to get up, while Lucy was considerably slower, her face and chest flushed, panting, her nipples rock hard.
“Not very bright,” Mandy shook her head as she closed in. “You’re just making it hard on yourself!”
“Shut up!” Lucy barked, throwing a blockbuster right; Mandy stepped aside with contemptuous ease, my wife’s fist flying past her face. Mandy slid behind Lucy, grabbing her left wrist and pulling it up into a hammerlock; Lucy groaned at the pain as Mandy yanked her arm up her back, attempting to escape clumsily by bending over forward, hoping to get Mandy to go over her (Lucy’s) back.
“What the hell are you doing?” Mandy laughed. “How did you two win all those fights?” She used her hammerlock to turn Lucy to face into the enemy corner and started marching her towards it; my wife tried to plant her feet and not move, but Mandy worked the hammerlock, pulling Lucy’s wrist almost up to her neck, and the pain flooding her body sapped my wife’s strength as Mandy pushed her across the ring.
“Come on, Lucy!” I tried, knowing my wife was going to be in deep shit if the enemy got her into a double team. “Come on, fight back! Get her with an elbow!”
“Quiet!” Mandy yelled back at me over her shoulder. “You just enjoy the show! Watch this, everyone!” Mandy pulled Lucy’s bottoms down, giving my wife’s ass a few loud spanks. In return, Lucy did attempt an elbow strike, but she was too wide and Mandy was too narrow; I sighed in defeat as Mandy came into her corner and Inez walked over to announce the double team and start counting.
Sara lined up a punch and smashed it into Lucy’s stomach as Mandy released the hammerlock; my wife fell to all fours, gasping, as Sara put one foot on her back and pressed, sending her to the floor. Sara stood on the backs of my wife’s legs and rolled backwards, locking Lucy into a ceiling hold - my poor wife was elevated in the air, held up by Sara’s feet braced against the back of her knees, Sara’s legs outstretched. For good measure Sara grabbed my wife’s arms, pulling them straight down, leaving her totally helpless as Mandy did a slow circle.
“Wooooooo!” Mandy cheered. “Great job, Sara! Spread her!”
Sara pushed her legs as wide as they would go as Mandy stepped between them, gently parting Lucy’s lower lips as one of the camera guys came in to zoom in right up her pussy.
“You get that shot?” Mandy laughed. She turned to me: “Now pay attention! The way to a woman’s climax is through her clitoris - do you want to write this down?”
I didn’t respond, sitting there simmering with anger; my mood wasn’t helped as another one of the camera guys was zooming in on my face, which I could feel flushing with anger. Inez was only at two as Mandy started gently caressing my wife’s crotch, one hand parting her lips, the other teasing her clit; despite the gut punch Lucy had just taken, she was still turned on by Mandy’s earlier groping, her spread-wide labia glistening with excited lubrication.
“Hey, Mandy, if you’re so tough, why don’t you two let her go?” I tried. “You’re sooooo strong, right? So you don’t need to double team her!”
“Nice try,” Mandy called back without taking her eyes off her work. “Extra thick bitch like this, you have to wear her out first.”
Lucy made it to 30, and Sara released her, letting go of her arms and flinging her legs forward; Lucy smashed into the floor on her chest, and as she rolled over I could see that her brain was scrambled, her eyes unfocused, her face flushed with arousal, humiliation and anger.
Mandy was right on her, lifting her up to her feet just to hair-mare her back down to the floor. Mandy pulled Lucy into a humiliating hold that I knew as the spladle, although Mandy crowed “Banana split time!” as she locked it in. Basically, Mandy locked her legs around Lucy’s right arm, and her (Mandy’s) arms around Lucy’s left; she folded Lucy, trapping one and then the other of my wife’s legs up and apart, trapping these limbs the same way she had Lucy’s arms.
My wife was now stuck in an extremely embarrassing position, only her ass, crotch, and legs visible; Mandy, with one hand free, merrily went back to fingering her. I could see Lucy’s legs flexing as she attempted to escape, but it was hopeless; her thighs went slack as she gave up, then began to quiver as Mandy pumped her with two fingers, her thumb rubbing my wife’s clit, a happy smile on her face as she played with her prey. Four cameramen came in to film the action, a fifth getting my face as I tried not to let my anger show.
“Here it comes!” Mandy chirped. “She’s gonna finish!” Sure enough I could hear a deep, muffled moan from my wife; Mandy took her over the edge, working her through a climax, purring like the cat who got the cream as she completed humiliating her opponent. When she finally released my wife and rolled off her, Lucy was a mess, her face beet red, laying on the floor gasping, sweaty and defeated.
Mandy got to her feet and planted one foot on my wife’s face, hitting a muscle pose flexing her arms as Inez came over to make the official call: “Submissive climax, Purple. Three points Gold. Gold up, four-zero.”
“Whew,” Mandy stage-gasped, winking at me as she licked her fingers clean. “What a loser! Right?” She kicked my wife hard in the ribs, but Lucy was at best half-conscious and just moaned pathetically.
As when Sonny had given it up to Sara, I could see the victorious woman thinking about pressing the attack; down 4-0, we couldn’t afford to give up any more points, and a glance at Sonny showed me that he was raring to go, pacing in his corner, smacking one big fist into his palm.
“Hey, Mandy!” I yelled, waving her over. “Come here, I want to tell you something.”
“Oh, yeah?” Mandy looked up from Lucy’s comatose form. “What is it?”
“Come over here.”
“Don’t do it!” Sara yelled. “Finish her!”
My hunch that the enemy team didn’t have the best teamwork paid off as Mandy’s curiosity got the better of her; she ignored Sara calling for her to finish off Lucy, then pleading for a tag, as she approached. I got up out of my chair, not knowing what I was going to do yet.
“What is it?” Mandy purred. She grabbed my cock through my pants, giving it a rough squeeze. “This better be good.”
“Could you tag in Sara?”
“What?” Mandy laughed, still holding my cock. “Why would I ever do that?”
“I’ll give you a kiss.”
“You’ll give me a kiss?” she asked in disbelief. “Maybe if you kiss my ass!”
“Okay. Turn around.”
“What?” Mandy was eyeing me with suspicion now. “If you try anything-”
“I won’t,” I promised.
“Fine. Just remember,” she leaned in close, squeezing my cock again, “it’s not against the rules for me to rip this off!”
Point made, she released me and turned around with a smirk, slowly lowering her bottoms, stepping out of them to cheers and applause from the crowd. I braced my hands on her hips and leaned forward, planting a kiss on her sweaty right buttcheek.
“Is that it?” Mandy called back at me. “Come on, I want you to French my ass!”
With a sigh I moved to the center, kissing her rear entrance. “Ooh, get in there, loverboy!” she squealed, reaching back and pushing my face deeper between her cheeks. With no choice, I stuck my tongue in her ass, hearing her gasp, then: “He’s licking my asshole!!” Mandy screamed happily.
She stepped forward, leaving me on my knees blinking in confusion; I got up and sat in my chair as Mandy blew me a flirty kiss, then went back to the center of the mats, grabbed my wife’s ankles, and dragged her into our corner, staying just far enough away from Sonny so he couldn’t grab her.
Mandy turned and went to her corner to tag in Sara; the two had a brief, angry-looking whispered conversation I wished I could hear; Mandy stepped off the fighting area rolling her eyes, while Sara turned and stomped out to face off with Sonny again.
“Watch the kick!” I yelled. Sonny nodded as he went to square off with his old bully; Sara deployed a totally different attack this time, using her greater speed against Sonny’s strength; she would come in, nail a few hits to his body, then duck out before he could bring his power to bear, dancing away from his grabbing hands or swinging fists.
Each individual hit wasn’t doing a lot to Sonny’s resilient frame, but I knew enough of them would add up; he was having enough trouble coming to grips with Sara as it was, and if she managed to wear his speed down it would only get worse. I could see him getting frustrated, grunting with annoyance at each missed grab or punch, while Sara was starting to smile and taunt him: “Ooh, almost!” she cooed as Sonny’s big fist sailed past her jaw. “Just a little too slow!”
“Calm down, Sonny!” I advised. “Stay cool! Think! Don’t let her get you riled up!”
“Excuse me!” Sara barked at me, although her eyes didn’t leave Sonny. “Nobody asked you! Asshole!”
“She’ll go down in one good hit, Sonny!” I yelled. “She talks tough, but she has a glass jaw!”
“What the fuck did you say?” Sara turned to yell at me. “Listen here, you little shit-”
She didn’t get any farther as Sonny came in and almost took her head off with a massive clothesline, his arm smashing into her jaw. Sara went down with a muffled scream, landing dazed on her back. Sonny could move quick when his instincts took over, and Sara had barely hit the floor, her hands over her face, before he dropped a picture-perfect elbow into her stomach, leaving her gasping and curling into a ball..
“Finish her!” I yelled. Sonny picked Sara up off the mats, her limbs flailing; he ran a few steps, then threw himself at the floor, crushing Sara into the mats with his own body on top, rolling off her and back up to his feet neatly, dropping another elbow into her stomach. This one seemed even more effective than the last; I could see Sara’s eyes go wide at the impact from my seat, and she didn’t even have the air left to scream, rolling over onto her chest in what looked like devastated confusion, gasping into the mats.
“Finish her!” I yelled again. Sonny rolled Sara over, wrapping one hand around her neck, lifting her straight up off the floor with an impressive roar of strength; he held her there for a second, his old bully’s legs kicking frantically as she pawed at his wrist, before chokeslamming her down to the mats with a loud thwack, smashing her back and the back of her skull into the floor with authority.
“Yeah!” Sonny screamed, holding his arms high over his head. “Yeah! Yeah!”
“Woooooo!” I cheered. “Go, Sonny! Go, Sonny!” I hoped the crowd might pick up the chant, but not many of them did; I suppose seeing a six foot tall muscleman destroying a 5’5” woman tended to generate sympathy, even if Sara didn’t deserve any of it.
Sonny walked back over to continue punishing Sara, and I couldn’t help but notice she was aroused despite the beating he’d been putting on her; her nipples looked hard enough to cut steel. I was about to yell “Make her cum,” but Sonny was already bending over to pick Sara up.
She surprised him, nailing a lightning-quick uppercut slap to his dicklit. Sonny stumbled backwards, covering himself, eyes shut in pain. Sara came on, dropping low and sweeping Sonny’s legs out, dumping him on the mat.
But she couldn’t press the attack any more; she stopped to breathe, hands on her knees, only having had enough gas in the tank to back Sonny off. Both fighters took a minute to recover, but the fact that Sonny was down on his back sealed his doom; he’d only managed to roll over and get up to his knees when Sara came up behind him, locking on a sleeper hold, one arm around his neck pressing against his windpipe.
Sonny gasped as Sara locked on the choke, then pressed himself up off his feet; Sara tried to hold him down, a doomed attempt as he quickly was three fourths of the way up, Sara’s chin resting on his right shoulder. Sonny reached back, grabbing her head, then dropped to the mat in a sitting position, nailing Sara with a stunner; her jaw smashed into his shoulder, and she fell backwards, hitting the floor and not moving.
“Finish her!” I yelled again. Sonny crawled on top of Sara, roughly groping her tits, fitting one thigh between her legs and pressing it up against her crotch; Sara moaned but otherwise didn’t react as Sonny attacked her chest, rubbing his hard dicklit against her tummy, lowering his mouth to her right breast, rolling her left nipple between his fingertips.
“Get up!” Mandy yelled when it was clear Sara was beyond fighting back for the moment. “Come on, don’t let him do that! Get him off!”
“Forget it!” I yelled at her. “Your partner’s finished, and you’re next!”
Mandy just glared at me, her eyes hard; I stopped to smirk at her before turning back to watch more of the action. Sara had started moving a little more, although she still wasn’t making any attempt to escape.
Sonny climbed off her, lifting her up into a sitting position; he dropped an elbow on top of Sara’s head, and she fell back totally limp, completely at Sonny’s mercy.
“No!” Mandy wailed. “You big bully!”
Nobody paid any attention to her; Sonny went down between Sara’s legs, spreading them wide. Three cameramen came in to capture what he did next. I thought he was going to start fingering her, maybe attack her clit with one hand; instead he held his right hand completely vertical, then slowly pushed it into Sara’s pussy.
Sara stirred, but didn’t move for a second; as she sat up with a yelp I realized Sonny had formed his hand into a fist. He started enthusiastically fisting Sara, who leaned back on her arms, her eyes rolling back in her head, grunting with each pump of Sonny’s hand in her pussy.
“Come on, don’t let him do that!” Mandy tried again. She tried to get a “Come On Sa-Ra” chant going, but nobody was biting; the crowd was mostly silent, some of them leaning forwards in their chairs to get a view at Sonny’s impressive fisting attack on his opponent.
Still, Sara wasn’t finished yet; she reached down and grabbed Sonny’s thighs, pulling him forward a bit; he had been sitting with his bare ass squarely on the mat, but it was now exposed, facing towards Sara.
“Sonny, your ass!” I yelled. Too late; Sara returned the fisting attack, her own hand disappearing up Sonny’s back door. For good measure she got his dicklit in her other hand, frantically stroking it, her hand flying up and down the thick nub.
It looked like it was all going to come down to this fisting contest; both fighters were trying to hang on, faces flushed, Sara’s locked into a grimace of concentration as she worked Sonny’s dicklit, the trans guy’s handsome jaw clenched. The room had fallen almost entirely silent except for the competitor’s pants, moans, and the wet sounds of their fists invading each other. I tried to determine who was ahead, but it was hard to tell; they both looked ready to go at any minute.
Sonny abruptly administered the coup de grace, inserting his free hand up Sara’s ass; he started fisting her there, too, both hands working together in one massive stroke after the next. Sara froze, her face a mask of shock; she recovered after a beat and went back on the attack, her hands moving even faster, but it was too late for her. A half dozen pistoning pumps of Sonny’s fists and she gave it up, throwing her head back and howling in pleasure, her own hands frozen, her legs kicking wildly. She fell backwards, landing limp on the mat, her eyes closed.
“Submissive orgasm, purple,” Inez announced. “Gold up, four-three.”
“Hold on,” Sonny grunted, stopping to wipe his now free hands on Sara’s stomach. “It’s gonna be all tied up in a second.” He crawled on top of Sara and started fucking her mouth with his dicklit; she opened her eyes, but she looked out to lunch, drooling around Sonny’s thick dicklit as he dominated her with it.
A murmur started going through the crowd; I realized it was the old “Cum on Sonny” chant, but now a sign of respect, instead of a taunt. It got louder and louder, Lucy picking it up, then I joined in, clapping: “Cum on, Sonny! Come on, Sonny! Come on -”
“Fuuuuuuuuuucccccccckk!!” Sonny bellowed, a cry of victory as he finished in Sara’s mouth, his hips bucking wildly. He came down, his dicklit still between his beaten opponent’s lips, sweat dripping off him onto Sara and the mats.
“Dominant orgasm, purple,” Inez bellowed. “All tied up at four!”
“Tag me in!” Lucy yelled from our corner, practically vibrating with energy. “Sonny! Hey!”
“Just a minute,” he breezed, lifting Sara up on his shoulders. He walked her over to her corner, throwing her in a heap at her partner’s feet; Mandy, steaming, tagged herself in, but had to wait as Sonny walked back over to our corner, tagging Lucy in before stepping off the mats for a well-earned rest.
Mandy had her fists up to box, while my wife had her own positioned lower; I had no idea what Lucy was planning, but she simply bulled through Mandy’s first hit, taking the brunette’s hard right to the belly with a grunt and coming on. Lucy grabbed Mandy’s tits, giving them a hard, wrenching twist; Mandy screamed, but to her credit she adapted quickly, getting a double underhand grip on my wife’s big tits and twisting them cruelly with a snarl.
But Lucy gave up the titsqueeze; instead she slammed her elbow into Mandy’s stomach. Mandy took the hit, stumbling back and losing her own grip; Lucy followed her, slamming a right hook into Mandy’s jaw. Mandy came back with a big left to my wife’s stomach; I could actually see the shockwave from the hit travel across Lucy’s belly, but she bulled through it with a grunt, her hand shooting between Mandy’s legs and squeezing her pussy. Mandy returned this, too, getting her own crotch claw with a howl of pain and anger.
Lucy’s rapid style switching had wrongfooted Mandy; I think she could have kept up with my wife in any kind of fight, but she didn’t know how to deal with the constant changes, and was reduced to reacting.
Still, Mandy was giving it back pretty good; Lucy was dictating the type of attacks, but Mandy was no slouch at delivering any of them. The fatal mistake, I think, was her going toe to toe with Lucy; I hadn’t met many women yet who could match my wife for endurance and power, and Mandy was giving up her reach and speed advantages.
I personally thought sticking with the pussy claw would have been a good idea - for once, Lucy’s shorter stature was working for her as Mandy had to reach down farther - but Lucy switched off this, too, after a minute, rocking Mandy back with a left hook. Mandy gave Lucy a big right to the jaw; my wife was staggered for a minute, but came back with a vicious knife-edge chop to Mandy’s chest, smashing the taller fighter’s tits up against her ribcage.
Mandy screamed, covering her boobs, leaving herself open; it was all the invitation Lucy needed to put her down with a massive overhand right, my wife getting all of her weight into the hit; Lucy hit Mandy so hard in the jaw she must’ve busted her knuckles open, shaking her hand out with a wince as her opponent went down like a sack of dirt, landing on her side on the mats.
“Get a load of this!” Lucy yelled into the nearest camera. She rolled a moaning Mandy over onto her back, then sat down on her chest, trapping Mandy’s arms against the floor. Lucy leaned down, enveloping Mandy’s face between her tits; my wife’s nipples rested on the mat, only the very top of Mandy’s head and her lower half visible.
“Yeah, you can call this the Lucy Lock!” my wife howled into one of the cameras. I kind of wish we’d workshopped the name - it wasn’t really a lock - but it was too late now, I suppose. Mandy struggled mightily, first to try and lift her arms off the mats, then trying to buck the heavier fighter off, both without any success; I could see her struggling becoming more frantic, her legs bucking wildly as she tried and failed to unseat her assailant, her head turning frantically as she sought any scrap of air in the sweaty prison of titflesh Lucy had sealed her in.
Mandy was full of fight until the very end; she never stopped struggling, even as her attempts to buck Lucy off became panicked writhing, even as her limbs stilled until she lay completely flat on her back.
“Ewwwww!” Lucy squealed abruptly. “She pissed herself!”
“Let me check on her!” Inez barked. Lucy released Mandy’s left wrist; Inez lifted it up off the mat and let it fall back limply. She repeated this once, then a second time; when Mandy’s arm smacked dead into the mat for the third time, Inez tapped Lucy’s shoulder, signalling for her to get off.
“Knockout counts as a submission!” Inez announced. “Purple up, six-four!”
Lucy got up slowly; she’d managed to avoid getting any pee on herself, staring down at Mandy with undisguised disgust.
“Okay, she obviously can’t compete,” Inez muttered. She dragged Mandy over off the mats, then checked to see if Sara was able to continue while Lucy ran over to me for a victory hug.
It looked like Sara wanted to go; to my eye she was pretty unsteady on her feet, and I guess Inez thought the same thing as it took a little bit of pleading before the red would let Sara onto the mats. Lucy jogged over and tagged in Sonny, who came out to face his old bully.
“Sonny, watch out for the kick!” I yelled. He nodded, and Sara must have really had her bell rung as she went to it anyway, closing up with Sonny and aiming a horrible, sloppy front kick between his legs; he contemptuously slapped it away, coming in and flooring Sara with a big right to the jaw.
“Bring her over here, Sonny!” Lucy hollered. Sonny lifted Sara up, carrying her like a baby over to our corner. Lucy reached out to slap his shoulder for the tag, starting the thirty second double team. (Well, I should say “thirty seconds”; Inez counted so slow it was more like two solid minutes.)
And it was a long, painful double team for Sara; Lucy got her in a full nelson, more I think to hold her up than keep her from fighting back; she was already sagging in my wife’s arms as Sonny squared up to her. He started working Sara like a heavy bag, smashing punch after powerful punch into her belly and sides, mixing it up occasionally with a hit to her breasts, some straight smashing her boobs against her ribs, some hooks knocking them side to side, or the crowd’s favorite, an uppercut that would send one flying in a shower of sweat.
Sara just took the punishment, her stomach resisting a few blows before Sonny’s fist started sinking in; after that each hit would knock a moan or a gasp out of her as her belly started turning an angry red, then seasoned into a deep, dark bruise.
At Inez’ call of “Twenty-nine!”, they finished up. Sara had started out trying to fix Sonny with a look of defiance, but after about the count of seven this had been beaten out of her, and her chin had been resting on her chest; Sonny got a handful of Sara’s hair, making her look up into his eyes as he wound up, then almost took her head off with a knockout right, smashing his knuckles into her mouth as Lucy released her arms, leaving Sara to go flying to the mat and land with a pathetic moan.
But they still weren’t done with her. Lucy was the legal woman now, and stepped onto the fighting area as Sonny stepped off. Lucy picked Sara up, struggling a little bit but getting the beaten woman vertical, held up in a standing 69. They finished her with a spike piledriver, Lucy dropping Sara to the mat head-first, Sonny bracing his hands on the victim’s feet and pushing down; this was the same move the team had destroyed Fawn with, and it occurred to me we’d need a name if they were going to keep using it. (Which I think we were; as with Fawn, the move left Sara looking like she might be dead, totally limp on the mat.)
“Knockout counts as-” Inez started, but Lucy cut her off: “We’re not through with her yet!”
“She’s out cold,” Inez protested unenthusiastically.
“We’re not through with her yet,” Lucy repeated, her jaw set.
“Okay, fine, but finish her off now.”
“Sonny,” Lucy turned to her partner, “would you like to wake her up?”
“Of course,” he bowed. They tagged, and Sonny came back onto the mats. He gave Sara a few lazy kicks; she rolled over, her eyes still closed. Sonny pulled her up to a kneel, one hand in her hair, enthusiastically slapping her face until she came around.
“Wake up!” Sonny yelled. “Wake up, asshole! We’re not through with you yet!” One more slap opened her eyes, her cheeks bright red. “Oh, there you are. We awake now?” He drew his hand back for another slap and Sara winced, squeezing her eyes shut.
“Please,” she started, but he slapped the words right out of her mouth. He glared down at her as he tagged with Lucy, starting another double-team. We’d been working on submission holds in training a little bit, and I was proud to see Sonny apply a textbook figure-four leg lock on Sara, his own strong legs hyperextending his victim’s right knee, pressing it into her left shin.
Lucy joined the attack, laying down on the mat behind Sara, applying her own figure-four, this one targeted on Sara’s neck instead of her legs; Lucy completed the hold by grabbing Sara’s arms, pinning her wrists to the floor, leaving the beaten woman completely helpless, unable to even scream, her face completely hidden by my wife’s thick thighs.
“One,” Inez started counting. It occurred to me Sara had no way to tap; she was just going to have to endure this hold for however long it took Inez to count to 30. Inez got down on her knees next to the action, frowning thoughtfully as she counted, as if she would be able to tell anything more about what was happening from there.
Lucy, at least, seemed to be making sure Sara stayed awake for her punishment; at first I could see the muscles in her thick legs standing out against her skin, then she began pulsing and relaxing her legs, but for the last bit of counting she eased off, looking like she was barely squeezing.
Still, by the time Inez hit 30, Sara was a mess; the second my wife moved her legs, Sara was sucking in air, her face beet red as she flopped on the floor. Sonny released his hold as well, getting up and glaring down at Sara as Lucy stepped out of the fighting area.
“Pathetic,” Sonny scoffed. “I’m tired of beating your ass now. Are you listening, Sara?”
She nodded, unable to even speak, her eyes wide as dinner plates.
“How about this?” Sonny leaned down to yell in her face. “You get off one more time and then we’re done. How does that sound?”
“Good,” Sara managed to gasp.
“What?” Sonny drew his hand back for a punch..
“Good, sir!” Sara yelled, her voice broken and wavering. “Good, sir!” She scooted back a bit so Sonny could see her spreading her legs wide open.
“What the hell are you doing?” Sonny asked.
“Uh… you wanted to get me off?” Sara was looking up at him in fear. “So… you can do whatever you want…”
“Think I’d want to get you off again, nasty bitch?” Sonny scoffed. “Hell no. Start masturbating. You’re going to make yourself cum.”
“Okay,” Sara nodded.
Sonny waved the camera guys over to get a good look as Sara started touching herself, one hand between her legs, the other gently playing with her left breast. Sonny went around to stand over her head, muscle posing.
“Hey! Inez!” I waved. “Inez!”
“What?” the ref asked as she walked over.
“I have a rules question.”
“Uh huh.”
“So a dominant orgasm is making your opponent cum, a submissive orgasm is cumming yourself, but what about this, where Sara’s going to make herself cum on someone else’s command?”
“God, who cares?” Inez sighed. “Look, your team won. Does it matter what the actual score is at the end?”
“I’m just wondering-”
“Fine, I’m going to call it a submissive orgasm since she’s cumming. Okay?”
“Yeah,” I nodded, just starting to get the feeling Inez didn’t like me. “Uh, you’re doing a great job,” I added.”
“Thanks.” She padded away.
I looked back to where Sara was masturbating; she was really into it now, leaning up off the mat a little, her fingers flashing between her legs, her mouth open wide, panting. She must’ve really enjoyed being humiliated; she certainly seemed to cum hard enough, her entire body shaking, her toes digging into the mat as her body spasmed.
“Submissive orgasm,” Inez announced, her eyes locked on mine in a is-this-what-you-wanted stare. “Purple up, seven-four.” She leaned down to talk to Sara: “You can’t continue, girl. I’m going to call the match if your partner is done.”
Mandy, as it turned out, was done; she had slept peacefully through her partner’s destruction, and was still snoozing in her corner. Inez announced that Gold forfeit the match, and only then shook Mandy awake.
It was punishment time.
