The air in Dafne’s hotel room is humid, the way she likes it—memories of Spain. The A/C is off, the windows open, her body damp. Dafne relaxes on her couch in clinging, thin PJs—a white silk shirt and pale blue panties. She gazes across the room at the clothes, shoes and belts laid out on her bed. What shall she wear to the audition today? Time to shower, but… the click of the hotel door lock startles her-- the door bursts open.
Ariel Winter stands framed in the doorway, radiating fury. A black too small tee-shirt is stretched tight across her still extravagant boobs. Her short-shorts barely hide her trimmed down but still full ass. Her fit legs are set wide apart as her short frame nonetheless fills the doorway. She looks menacing…
“WTF, Ariel,” Dafne shouts, shocked that Winter has a key to her room.
“You think you’re so clever, Keen?” Ariel growls, her voice low and dangerous. “How did you find out about this audition? This role is meant for me. The studio knows this part has my name on it. No one needs you here!”
Dafne rises slowly and walks towards the door. Her mind races. She is both surprised and outraged.
“Casting called my agent and begged me to come today. Look, Ariel, face it, you’re too old to play a college student now. And without your huge baby-fat tits, you’re just ‘no-big-deal curvy,’ and frankly—you can’t act worth a damn. Other than your tits, you never were all that hot. Just fat ...”
Dafne expects to argue. Ariel—not wo much. She lunges. Winter has a well-earned reputation as a brawler, an always willing instigator who relies on her compact power and reputation to punish and intimidate any woman in her way. Keen is in her way.
Dafne barely has time to register that she’s in a fight, right here, right now. Winter plows into her. A heavy forearm slams down to pancake Dafne’s boobs. Ariel’s knee jams her belly. Winter catches Dafne around the waist and quickly trips her to the floor. Falling heavily on top, the intruder wastes no time--she bangs Dafne’s head on the carpet twice. Shaken up, disoriented, her head is ringing as her instincts take charge-- Keen manages to throw Winter off. She is quickly on unsteady feet facing back into the room. It takes a split second before she realizes that Winter, too, is up and behind her. Winter pumps two quick kidney punches into Dafne’s back. Keen yowls, reaching behind her.
Ariel pulls that arm into a hammer lock. Her right hand reaches around to latch onto a tit. Ariel bulls her captive forward, throwing her onto the couch. She quickly bangs Dafne’s head into the lightly upholstered couchbarm. Ariel throws herself on top of her foe, trapping Dafne against the back and corner of the couch. Winter’s thighs find and immobilize Keen’s hips. She grasps a handful of Dafne’s dark hair, yanks her head back sharply. Instinctively, Dafne reaches to grab onto her tormentor’s wrist, leaving her chest exposed. Winter pumps her fist into the young gal’s boobs, pounding hard, pounding fast, all the while yanking Keen’s hair to keep her in place. The relentless thumping takes Keen’s breath away. Reflexively, Dafne sinks her fingernails into Ariel’s wrist. Winter buries her fist in Dafne’s left tit, then knuckles and grinds it in. Dafne’s eyes brim with tears.
“Please stop. You’re hurting me. Get off,” Keen stammers.
“Stop? I’m just getting started,” Ariel snarls.
There is no finesse in this attack, just an all-out nasty beat-down. This ain’t Ariel’s first catfight, nor Dafne’s but Winter has a big edge in experience, and her sneak attack has Keen befuddled.
Breathless pain shocks Dafne to respond. Twisting her body, summoning the power in her legs, she dislodges Winter enough to pull her legs free. Ariel, off balance, tries to adjust. Dafne slams her palm up into Ariel’s chin, shoves off and rolls to the carpeted floor, free. But before a sigh of relief exits her lips, Ariel immediately jumps down on her, landing with both knees to Keen’s left side. Seizing a double handful of hair, Winter bangs and bounces Keen’s head on the carpet.
“I said I’m not done yet, bitch!” Ariel hisses.
Ariel quickly stands to hair-drag the protesting, yelping and again overwhelmed Keen across the carpet and around the room, pausing only to stomp on the younger woman’s belly or drive her heel into a tit. The rug burns Dafne’s back as she claws at Ariel’s wrists trying to free herself. Ariel parades back to the couch and hair-hauls Keen back on it. Winter violently shakes Keen’s head, banging it into the couch arm. Mounting her, Ariel, jerks Dafne’s head down over the arm to slam her forearm across her tits.
Kneeling upright with her thighs wide around her trapped adversary’s waist, Ariel pummels the younger gal’s belly and boobs with fists and elbows. Dafne is defenseless. Winter’s attack is relentless. After administering this second wicked beating, Ariel pauses, slips out of her tee-shirt to expose her rather epic and now unharnessed rack. She cups Dafne’s chin in one hand and smiles a wicked, leering smile.
“It’s time to put you out. I thought you’d be better opponent, but you’re just a little cry-baby who doesn’t know her place,” Winter jeers.
Her tits loom large in front of Dafne’s wide eyes. Winter’s nipples love this part and spring to attention. Ariel brushes her tits across her prey’s face as she licks her lips, hungry for the feeling of total dominance. Winter grunts as she pulls Dafne’s tearing face deep into her well-practiced, smothering tits. Dafne’s whole body quivers in silent protest. Ariel wraps her arms around Keen’s head and locks her into her abundant cleavage. Ariel is all business as she leans her full weight down on her trapped foe.
Keen struggles in vain as an airless panic sets in. She slaps and claws hard at Ariels back and sides. No effect. Ariel growls with satisfaction. Soon enough, Keen’s struggling subsides. Ariel feels her go limp. No rush, she bears down, shaking her captive like a cat playing with her food. Finally, Winter lifts her chest up to admire her work. Keen is thoroughly jugged out. Her chest rises and falls slowly. Her face is a beet-red mess of tears, saliva and sweat. Winter laughs as she rips off Dafne’s thin top and uses it to wipe off her own tits, then roughly uses the rag to wipe Keen’s messy face—not to clean her up, just to smear drool and snot everywhere. Smiling, Ariel slips off the couch. She buries both hands in Keen’s hair and drags her to the floor. Ariel flips Dafne onto her belly and once again drags her across the carpet in a slow circle. Dafne’s scalp is on fire. Her head is pounding. The tender skin of Dafne’s bruised exposed chest chafes.
Keen manages to roll to her side and reaches out to grab one of Ariel’s ankles to stop her forward motion. Ariel kicks her leg free and simply leaps down, landing heavily on Dafne’s chest.
“Oh, you’re back!” Ariel jeers. “I’d hate for you to miss this next part.”
Winter quickly straddles Dafne’s hips. Keen gamely reaches up to dig her fingers into Ariel’s tits. Ariel bounces forward, landing her full weight on Dafne’s boobs. Keen yowls.
“No yelling. Rude girl,” Winter scolds as she clamps her hands over Dafne’s nose and mouth.
Ariel holds the smother as she bounces her weight down on Keen’s pancaked assets. Dafne’s eyes are wide. She tries to pull Ariel’s clamped on hands from her face but she is too exhausted to do much. As Dafne’s struggles subside, Winter finally let’s go of her face. She shifts herself back onto Keen’s hips. Ariel fists hammer down, landing deliberate, well aimed blows to the younger woman’s belly and boobs. She pauses to seize both of Dafne’s nipples, pinching and twisting as Keen’s body convulses on the carpet under her. Winter stops, smiles, then stands. She reaches down to hair-haul Dafne to her unsteady legs. She runs Keen backward into a closet door, jams a knee up into her belly and throws her to the ground.
“What a pathetic excuse for an action-star you are,” Ariel pronounces.
She runs her hands through her own long hair, smiles at her handiwork, then stands up. Dafne is sobbing softly on the floor in a well-beaten puddle.
Aiel looks around the room to spot Dafne’s phone. She takes and holds it up to the poor woman’s face to turn it on. Winter laughs as she takes multiple pictures of the well-beaten gal-- which she posts to Keen’s various social media accounts with the headline ‘Ariel Winter just kicked my sorry ass!’
Ariel sits up, still straddling Dafne, feeling dominate, feeling strong. She takes a few moments to review what she has posted.
“I hate you!” Dafne stammers out, realizing what Ariel has just done.
Ariel smirks, then shimmies forward until her hips are grinding against Dafne’s collarbone. She locks her thighs around Dafne’s head until the heat between her legs is pressed flush against the younger woman’s face. Dafne’s nose wrinkles, her head jerks sideways to escape the sudden, suffocating intimacy—but Ariel grabbed a fistful of her hair, yanking her back into place.
“Oh no,” Ariel purrd, her voice thick with malice. “You came for a front-row seat to my ‘performance,’ right?”
She rocked her hips, the damp heat of her pussy smearing across Dafne’s lips, the younger woman’s muffled gag vibrating against her skin.
Dafne bucks beneath her, her teeth bared in a snarl as she tried to twist free, but Ariel’s weight is too much for the exhausted girl. Ariel grinds down harder, her thighs clamp so very tight around Dafne’s head as she yanks up on Keen’s head. Poor Dafne‘s face remains jammed in the humid, musky embrace of Ariel’s body.
“Mmph—get off!” ” Dafne’s protests, her words slurring against Ariel’s flesh.
“Wait, this is such a great picture. You can use it as a head shot for your next gig,” Ariel mocks as she again takes up Keen’s phone to capture the moment.
“Got it. Let me tell you what I see—Dafne Keen’s well beaten, humiliated face pressed up against the awesome Ariel Winter’s public bone. Dafne’s lips glistening with saliva and the older woman’s resplendent slick,” Ariel chortles as she posts these images as well.
Ariel finally sits back, pleased with herself. The room is hot. Both women are dripping in sweat. The victor stands up, places her foot on beat-down woman’s chest and shakes out her hair. Thinking that she really needs a shower, Ariel pulls Dafne up by her hair, drags her to the hotel room door and throws the nearly naked wreck of Dafne Keen out into the hallway. Winter locks the door and steps in the shower, thinking that she just put on the clothes Keen has laid out on the bed when she’s done...
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If your twin sister is as strong as you; I know some chics that are in big trouble. Of course, you may have to prove how tough you are to them. 
