71
Catfight Web Sites & Sources / Re: GIRLS NEXT DOOR BRAWLS: AMANDA VS ARIEL
« Last post by Suited an on May 10, 2025, 09:53:01 PM »That means a lot dude. Thank you!
Recent Posts
72
Members Catfight Polls! / Sassy vs Oil Princess - on the mats !!!
« Last post by sassywrestler on May 10, 2025, 09:46:44 PM »Hello Everyone !
As most of you know, Oil Princess and I have had a few oil wrestling matches in the past which has escalated our rivalry to the next level. This time we have agreed to wrestle on mats in a gymnasium, no oil...just our bodies and I'm sure some sweat!! The rules are simple, body vs body, power vs power and we wrestle to total exhaustion...leaving no doubt who's the better woman!
So, buckle up ladies and gents...this will be an epic battle between two mature blondes!
Oil Princess profile https://www.freecatfights.com/forums/index.php?action=profile;u=82367
May the bbest woman win !
Sassy !
As most of you know, Oil Princess and I have had a few oil wrestling matches in the past which has escalated our rivalry to the next level. This time we have agreed to wrestle on mats in a gymnasium, no oil...just our bodies and I'm sure some sweat!! The rules are simple, body vs body, power vs power and we wrestle to total exhaustion...leaving no doubt who's the better woman!
So, buckle up ladies and gents...this will be an epic battle between two mature blondes!
Oil Princess profile https://www.freecatfights.com/forums/index.php?action=profile;u=82367
May the bbest woman win !
Sassy !
73
Producer Announcements / Bella vs Raquel - part 2: tables turned
« Last post by xclipshow on May 10, 2025, 09:16:42 PM »SPARRING CONTROL - Part 2: Tables Turned
Bella strikes back. After suffering under Raquel’s powerful holds, Bella returns determined to turn the tables. With a mix of frustration and newfound fire, she challenges Raquel to let her try the same moves. Raquel, confident and amused, agrees - but is soon caught off guard as Bella locks her in an arm hold and attempts a schoolgirl pin of her own. The power dynamic shifts back and forth as Bella struggles to prove she's more than just a practice dummy. Can she hold her ground or will Raquel remind her who's really in charge? The tension builds—and the final showdown is coming.
Click below to see more:
https://www.clips4sale.com/studio/16375/31033927
preview clip:
https://108.181.5.51/accounts99/16375/clips_previews/prev_31033927.mp4?__cpo=aHR0cHM6Ly9pbWFnZWNkbi5jbGlwczRzYWxlLmNvbQ
XCLIPSHOW CATFIGHT
https://www.clips4sale.com/studio/16375
Bella strikes back. After suffering under Raquel’s powerful holds, Bella returns determined to turn the tables. With a mix of frustration and newfound fire, she challenges Raquel to let her try the same moves. Raquel, confident and amused, agrees - but is soon caught off guard as Bella locks her in an arm hold and attempts a schoolgirl pin of her own. The power dynamic shifts back and forth as Bella struggles to prove she's more than just a practice dummy. Can she hold her ground or will Raquel remind her who's really in charge? The tension builds—and the final showdown is coming.
Click below to see more:
https://www.clips4sale.com/studio/16375/31033927
preview clip:
https://108.181.5.51/accounts99/16375/clips_previews/prev_31033927.mp4?__cpo=aHR0cHM6Ly9pbWFnZWNkbi5jbGlwczRzYWxlLmNvbQ
XCLIPSHOW CATFIGHT
https://www.clips4sale.com/studio/16375
74
Members Catfight Polls! / Re: Titfight Breckie vs. Lona
« Last post by TheCatfightChancellor on May 10, 2025, 08:59:55 PM »Breckie destroys chewy in a cyber fight.
75
Producer Announcements / GIRLS NEXT DOOR BRAWLS: AMANDA VS ARIEL
« Last post by Suited an on May 10, 2025, 08:38:27 PM »One of the absolute best fights I've done so far with a newcomer. Ariel gives zero fucks taking on experienced fighter Amanda.
This fight has some of the most vicious scratching and wrestling I've gotten to host yet. Im seriously excited to see these two throw down again (after pairing off against different opponents first).
Available for Purchase at Clips4Sale and Loyalfans:
https://www.clips4sale.com/studio/283211/31092363/amanda-vs-ariel
https://tinylf.com/5lzBYcBIv
This fight has some of the most vicious scratching and wrestling I've gotten to host yet. Im seriously excited to see these two throw down again (after pairing off against different opponents first).
Available for Purchase at Clips4Sale and Loyalfans:
https://www.clips4sale.com/studio/283211/31092363/amanda-vs-ariel
https://tinylf.com/5lzBYcBIv
76
Members Catfight Polls! / Re: BustyFaith VS MaryEmmy at the pool party
« Last post by BustyTXMaryEmmy on May 10, 2025, 07:46:59 PM »We land on our sides on the grass, still glaring and hissing at each other. The other guests have been cheering us on and seem to get more excited at us going to the ground. I reach my left hand for your hair again to pull us closer as I ball my right fist and swing punches towards your head.
My scalp gets a jolt of fire as your left hand grabs hold of my hair and I swing my right hand up grabbing your long dark hair yanking your hair and head hard as I can as your right fist smashes into the side of head and I ball up my left and begin swinging it wildly at the right side of your face over and over and over again!! Yt
77
Catfighting / Diary of a Catfighter - Chapter 3
« Last post by Sahara on May 10, 2025, 07:11:38 PM »After Paula, and my ruined internship, I drifted. I was 22, trying to figure out life. I didn’t really know what I wanted. I don’t want to claim hardship, or anything like that. I had no problem getting jobs, so money wasn’t a major issue - though when is money ever not a concern? I didn’t really date much, but because I was young and attractive, I took essentially any eligible man I wanted as a lover.
And a few who weren’t eligible.
Those were actually the most exciting. To know that I was taking something that belonged to another woman, sometimes in a darkened hotel room, sometimes in her own bed. I would find myself almost hoping she’d find out.
What does that say about me?
I drifted, because I was empty. I was missing something and I didn’t know what it was.
And so I traveled to Bali, my ancestral homeland. I loved just … existing there. I basically lived in a bikini on the beach. I soaked in the sun. For that brief time, I felt free, or at least more so. But the gnawing in me didn’t go away.
Then one of my past lovers invited me to Macau. I’m sure you’re thinking it was for a passionate reunion, and It’s true that sex was never far from Tim’s mind. But he wanted me for something else. Tim was an investment banker who had a taste for cocaine, an addiction to gambling, and a very expensive fetish.
One of the things one learns in life is that other people want to use you.
“Two million pataca,” he said at dinner. “That’s like, a quarter of a million dollars.” Such was my value.
Tim knew my history. I am very open with my lovers. None so far have been turned off by knowing I’ve been in uncontrolled fights. Quite the opposite, especially with Tim. He was deep into arranged fights between beautiful women, and in this part of the world it was an indulgence he could accomplish with enough cash. I listened to his proposal, and I felt the heat build in me.
That was the beginning. It was one thing to have fought Britney and Paula. They were personal, and spontaneous. This…this was deliberate. This was being a gladiatrix for money in a cold-blooded match against a professional. There would be people watching, who paid for the privilege. Betting on us. Screaming for us to bury our humanity and become animals for their entertainment.
I was more than interested, more than excited. I was unbelievably aroused. The civilized part of my brain told me it was insane. The primitive part made me pull Tim into the restaurant bathroom and violently climax when he pushed up my skirt and penetrated me. God.
Tim took me to the club later that night. The building was a gleaming skyscraper of glass. He paid to get in, in cash, a lot of it. With a long lingering look at me, the security guard let me in without charge. The elevator was an express to the very top of the building, opening into a lavish apartment.
That was my introduction to the wealthy underworld of professional catfights. It was like my first hit of the most addictive drug imaginable. The atmosphere was a surreal mix of sophisticated and primitive; rich furnishings, richer people - yet a visceral vibration as basic as ripe sex and animal violence. Along with maybe fifty others lining the walls, we watched a Chinese girl and a tanned blonde fight. The blonde reminded me of Britney. Tim bet quite a lot on her, and lost. The Chinese girl dragged her around the room and caved in her abs and brutally beat her unconscious. She spit in her empty face and dug her nails into her unprotected breasts and howled triumphantly as people roared approval.
I watched and I wanted nothing more in that moment than to fight the Chinese girl myself.
Who knows - maybe someday I will.
The next day, Tim and I boarded the yacht of a man whose name is irrelevant. The name of his female companion was Maeya. She and I barely took our eyes off each other as the men walked away to discuss terms. Not that there was much to settle. The aquamarine water of the South China Sea rippled past the bow as we cruised. Maeya and I lounged in our bikinis on chaises and let the silence between us fester.
“Do you want to fight me now?” she said softly at last, speaking to the barely-contained thrum of my body and soul. “Fight here and now, on the yacht, for no money, with only our men watching?”
I nodded slowly, my tongue thick in my mouth. She was beautiful, a lithe Thai woman. Her bikini framed her perfect body. Her face was calm, expressionless.
“Then you’re a fool,” she said. “Your man will lose all his money when I break you at the club. But what I give you then is a free lesson. The gift of humiliation for an arrogant little bitch in water far deeper than her head.”
I took a deep breath and stood, but Tim and her man returned to us then. She simply smirked at me. The yacht sailed silently in the bay. Our cruise was over. This wasn’t meant to be personal. I hated her anyway.
Here is what they agreed. The two men would each put up a million pataca and the combined prize would go to Maeya or to me: winner-take-all. The men would make - or lose - much more as the house cut for the audience gambling on the fight. To bring in the biggest whales, the Asian-on-Asian aspect was played up; Thai versus Balinese, ancient tribal enemies, savages below sophisticated surfaces. Maeya and I would fight only in thongs and heels, without rules or limits, to the finish: one woman left standing, one unconscious.
It was theater, and deadly serious reality. I was an unknown. Maeya was heavily favored. There was no going back, not now.
**************************************
As electric as the apartment had seemed to me as a spectator, it was a hundredfold more when I stood in the center of the main room. My body thrummed beneath my silk robe. Maeya radiated the same heat, five feet away from me. The crowd murmured like a distant thunderstorm.
Do you want to know about the setting? The main room was fully and expensively furnished. There were two bedrooms. A galley kitchen, gleaming with stainless steel, was adjacent to the main room. A balcony, opening off the outer wall of glass, looked down on the lights of the city.
One could imagine a life of luxury lived there in the clouds. One could also imagine soulless cruelty out of reach of the earth.
Do you want to know more about Maeya? She was older than me, perhaps by five years or so. She was sleek and strong and wore a serene mask of beauty over an utterly savage nature. Her almond eyes were dark and glittering. She ran her fingertips along the damask ridge of the sofa’s back as we waited for our signal, her nails slightly snagging on the fabric’s pattern. Her nails … those were painted scarlet and shaped into harrow teeth.
At the sound of one soft tone, we shrugged away our robes. Voices murmured at the reveal of our bodies. Final wagers of staggering amounts were entered via phone app. The tension rose as we moved face to face, our bared and fixed nipples straining to feel that first fierce stab. Her eyes held mine. Her scent was in my nostrils.
Hell hovered at the threshold.
No honest memoir is silent about pain.
I barely registered the sound of the second tone before Maeya exploded into me, both her hands stabbing up under my jaw to drive my head back as her body rammed into mine. She flung me sideways with a snarl, sending me sprawling over the sofa. I tumbled off its seat to the floor. Her heels rapped a rapid staccato cadence on the teak floor as I struggled up to my knees.
I got no further. Hands in my hair, she smashed my face down into the glass and chrome coffee table. Hands in my hair, she twisted me onto my back across it, forcing my head back over its edge, the part of my raven locks not wrapped in her fist cascading to the floor. With sadistic precision, she chopped the knife-edge of one hand down into my exposed throat.
The crowd rewarded her as I convulsed in airless agony.
Her hand closed on my bruised trachea. Her other hand slowly raked my arched breasts. Those who wagered that she would draw first blood won. Those who further bet it would be from carved-open nipples were now even wealthier than before. I screamed, a strangled, choked sound as she played the high priestess, making a sacrifice of me on a gleaming altar.
Reading now the words I’ve written, they are not adequate. You understand that she scratched my breasts deeply with her nails - but it was so much more than that. It was the agonizing grip of her vise-like hands, one on my throat, one on my breast. It was the burning pain of how she pushed her daggers through my skin and deep into the meat of my breast. It was the helpless suffering of my flesh tearing as she dragged my breast across my ribs.
It was her message to me of cruelty, and control.
Perhaps that makes it clearer?
Satisfied with my blood for now, she drove her fist into my face as she held my hair. The shock of the impact shot through my skull and neck. I was dazed, overwhelmed. In the space of a few minutes, she had me at the brink.
She held me there, and toyed with me.
The audience’s hungry eyes followed us to the kitchen as Maeya dragged me on my hands and knees, crawling. They buzzed, hornets, as she chose the chef’s knife from the block and pressed its tip to my shuddering breast as she pulled back my head. She smiled, and shook her head theatrically, then drove the butt end of its handle into my cheekbone.
She was a goddess, and I was her plaything.
She lifted me and bent me forward, pinning my head to the gleaming marble countertop. When she opened the drawer under it, my wounded nipples brushed the cutlery it held. When she forced the drawer closed on my breasts with her hip, my scream sliced through the air like the blade she had tossed aside.
A cruel goddess. A sadistic one. I felt more than pain as she crushed my breasts. I felt panic.
I flung my elbow up and back. Blind luck put the point of her jaw in its path. The impact radiated up to my shoulder and down to my fingers. Her weight against the drawer fell away.
I was free. I staggered sideways, escaping back into the main room, turning to face Maeya as I did. She slammed into me as soon as I did, her chest driving into mine. I landed on my back, my head thudding on the hardwood floor. The room tilted and spun, a nightmarish carnival ride.
She lifted me back to my knees, pulling both of my arms back to arch me, to display me to the audience. My torso gleamed with sweat. My breasts were streaked with blood. My head hung forward, my hair a veil over my pain-twisted face. They applauded. They cheered my torment. Tim turned away in disgust.
She twisted my arms further back. My shoulders felt as if they would dislocate. I screamed, blood from my lips dripping on my chest. She simply held me there, trembling in pain. My mind spun and lifted, disassociating. I don’t know how long she held me. I suppose it was no more than a minute or two. It could have been hours. When she let go, I fell forward, my breasts and head striking the floor. I couldn’t move or feel my arms.
Maeya waited. She sat prettily in a chair with her right leg crossed over her left at her knee and watched me in utter contempt.
I forced myself to my feet. My shoulders ached horribly, feeling returning slowly to my numbed fingers. She stood. I tried to hit her but she blocked it, almost casually, and drove her fist into my ovary. I jerked like a badly managed marionette, a sob of pure pain bursting from my mouth. She whipped a backhand across my face, twisting me. I staggered, bent forward, only dimly aware of the blood from my split lip spattering on the floor. Her knee scythed up into my breasts.
I felt my knees hit the floor. Everything else was a blur of pain.
She tied a slip knot in my discarded robe belt. She pushed it over my head, and pulled it tight around my neck. I tried to crawl. She dragged me, to the balcony, the two of us alone in the humid Macau sky.
Did you hope this could be a tale of a comeback, dear reader?
She ground me against the glass as her man moved to the other side, watching. His cock was an obvious bulge as she smeared my breasts across the surface for his pleasure. The slip knot bit deep into my neck. The pulse in my carotid artery slowed.
I was her puppet of pain, and he nodded his approval. She drove her knee into the muscles of my back. Into my spine. Each time, the glass shivered as the impact ripped through me. Each time my breasts were crushed, flattened. My nipples leaked a bloody, oily proto-milk on the glass. My open mouth was soundless but my body screamed.
She dragged me to the balcony railing, and bent me backwards over it, threading my leash back through under the lower railing. I gazed sightlessly at the night sky as she pulled it tight and sank her nails again into the meat of my tortured breast.
The only mercy I received was the mercy of unconsciousness. Airless, beaten darkness.
*****************************************
I came to in dim light, in one of the bedrooms, aware immediately of her soundless presence. My throat was raw. My chest was aching, my breasts swollen and torn. The apartment was silent as her shadow.
My wrists were bound, my arms outstretched. My body arched, uselessly. She knelt between my legs, her knees spread my thighs wide. She turned the thing she held in her hand so that it caught what light there was.
I moaned as she slipped one half of it into her pussy. The rest curved over me.
“Your second lesson,” Maeya whispered, and with a thrust of her hips she drove it into me.
And a few who weren’t eligible.
Those were actually the most exciting. To know that I was taking something that belonged to another woman, sometimes in a darkened hotel room, sometimes in her own bed. I would find myself almost hoping she’d find out.
What does that say about me?
I drifted, because I was empty. I was missing something and I didn’t know what it was.
And so I traveled to Bali, my ancestral homeland. I loved just … existing there. I basically lived in a bikini on the beach. I soaked in the sun. For that brief time, I felt free, or at least more so. But the gnawing in me didn’t go away.
Then one of my past lovers invited me to Macau. I’m sure you’re thinking it was for a passionate reunion, and It’s true that sex was never far from Tim’s mind. But he wanted me for something else. Tim was an investment banker who had a taste for cocaine, an addiction to gambling, and a very expensive fetish.
One of the things one learns in life is that other people want to use you.
“Two million pataca,” he said at dinner. “That’s like, a quarter of a million dollars.” Such was my value.
Tim knew my history. I am very open with my lovers. None so far have been turned off by knowing I’ve been in uncontrolled fights. Quite the opposite, especially with Tim. He was deep into arranged fights between beautiful women, and in this part of the world it was an indulgence he could accomplish with enough cash. I listened to his proposal, and I felt the heat build in me.
That was the beginning. It was one thing to have fought Britney and Paula. They were personal, and spontaneous. This…this was deliberate. This was being a gladiatrix for money in a cold-blooded match against a professional. There would be people watching, who paid for the privilege. Betting on us. Screaming for us to bury our humanity and become animals for their entertainment.
I was more than interested, more than excited. I was unbelievably aroused. The civilized part of my brain told me it was insane. The primitive part made me pull Tim into the restaurant bathroom and violently climax when he pushed up my skirt and penetrated me. God.
Tim took me to the club later that night. The building was a gleaming skyscraper of glass. He paid to get in, in cash, a lot of it. With a long lingering look at me, the security guard let me in without charge. The elevator was an express to the very top of the building, opening into a lavish apartment.
That was my introduction to the wealthy underworld of professional catfights. It was like my first hit of the most addictive drug imaginable. The atmosphere was a surreal mix of sophisticated and primitive; rich furnishings, richer people - yet a visceral vibration as basic as ripe sex and animal violence. Along with maybe fifty others lining the walls, we watched a Chinese girl and a tanned blonde fight. The blonde reminded me of Britney. Tim bet quite a lot on her, and lost. The Chinese girl dragged her around the room and caved in her abs and brutally beat her unconscious. She spit in her empty face and dug her nails into her unprotected breasts and howled triumphantly as people roared approval.
I watched and I wanted nothing more in that moment than to fight the Chinese girl myself.
Who knows - maybe someday I will.
The next day, Tim and I boarded the yacht of a man whose name is irrelevant. The name of his female companion was Maeya. She and I barely took our eyes off each other as the men walked away to discuss terms. Not that there was much to settle. The aquamarine water of the South China Sea rippled past the bow as we cruised. Maeya and I lounged in our bikinis on chaises and let the silence between us fester.
“Do you want to fight me now?” she said softly at last, speaking to the barely-contained thrum of my body and soul. “Fight here and now, on the yacht, for no money, with only our men watching?”
I nodded slowly, my tongue thick in my mouth. She was beautiful, a lithe Thai woman. Her bikini framed her perfect body. Her face was calm, expressionless.
“Then you’re a fool,” she said. “Your man will lose all his money when I break you at the club. But what I give you then is a free lesson. The gift of humiliation for an arrogant little bitch in water far deeper than her head.”
I took a deep breath and stood, but Tim and her man returned to us then. She simply smirked at me. The yacht sailed silently in the bay. Our cruise was over. This wasn’t meant to be personal. I hated her anyway.
Here is what they agreed. The two men would each put up a million pataca and the combined prize would go to Maeya or to me: winner-take-all. The men would make - or lose - much more as the house cut for the audience gambling on the fight. To bring in the biggest whales, the Asian-on-Asian aspect was played up; Thai versus Balinese, ancient tribal enemies, savages below sophisticated surfaces. Maeya and I would fight only in thongs and heels, without rules or limits, to the finish: one woman left standing, one unconscious.
It was theater, and deadly serious reality. I was an unknown. Maeya was heavily favored. There was no going back, not now.
**************************************
As electric as the apartment had seemed to me as a spectator, it was a hundredfold more when I stood in the center of the main room. My body thrummed beneath my silk robe. Maeya radiated the same heat, five feet away from me. The crowd murmured like a distant thunderstorm.
Do you want to know about the setting? The main room was fully and expensively furnished. There were two bedrooms. A galley kitchen, gleaming with stainless steel, was adjacent to the main room. A balcony, opening off the outer wall of glass, looked down on the lights of the city.
One could imagine a life of luxury lived there in the clouds. One could also imagine soulless cruelty out of reach of the earth.
Do you want to know more about Maeya? She was older than me, perhaps by five years or so. She was sleek and strong and wore a serene mask of beauty over an utterly savage nature. Her almond eyes were dark and glittering. She ran her fingertips along the damask ridge of the sofa’s back as we waited for our signal, her nails slightly snagging on the fabric’s pattern. Her nails … those were painted scarlet and shaped into harrow teeth.
At the sound of one soft tone, we shrugged away our robes. Voices murmured at the reveal of our bodies. Final wagers of staggering amounts were entered via phone app. The tension rose as we moved face to face, our bared and fixed nipples straining to feel that first fierce stab. Her eyes held mine. Her scent was in my nostrils.
Hell hovered at the threshold.
No honest memoir is silent about pain.
I barely registered the sound of the second tone before Maeya exploded into me, both her hands stabbing up under my jaw to drive my head back as her body rammed into mine. She flung me sideways with a snarl, sending me sprawling over the sofa. I tumbled off its seat to the floor. Her heels rapped a rapid staccato cadence on the teak floor as I struggled up to my knees.
I got no further. Hands in my hair, she smashed my face down into the glass and chrome coffee table. Hands in my hair, she twisted me onto my back across it, forcing my head back over its edge, the part of my raven locks not wrapped in her fist cascading to the floor. With sadistic precision, she chopped the knife-edge of one hand down into my exposed throat.
The crowd rewarded her as I convulsed in airless agony.
Her hand closed on my bruised trachea. Her other hand slowly raked my arched breasts. Those who wagered that she would draw first blood won. Those who further bet it would be from carved-open nipples were now even wealthier than before. I screamed, a strangled, choked sound as she played the high priestess, making a sacrifice of me on a gleaming altar.
Reading now the words I’ve written, they are not adequate. You understand that she scratched my breasts deeply with her nails - but it was so much more than that. It was the agonizing grip of her vise-like hands, one on my throat, one on my breast. It was the burning pain of how she pushed her daggers through my skin and deep into the meat of my breast. It was the helpless suffering of my flesh tearing as she dragged my breast across my ribs.
It was her message to me of cruelty, and control.
Perhaps that makes it clearer?
Satisfied with my blood for now, she drove her fist into my face as she held my hair. The shock of the impact shot through my skull and neck. I was dazed, overwhelmed. In the space of a few minutes, she had me at the brink.
She held me there, and toyed with me.
The audience’s hungry eyes followed us to the kitchen as Maeya dragged me on my hands and knees, crawling. They buzzed, hornets, as she chose the chef’s knife from the block and pressed its tip to my shuddering breast as she pulled back my head. She smiled, and shook her head theatrically, then drove the butt end of its handle into my cheekbone.
She was a goddess, and I was her plaything.
She lifted me and bent me forward, pinning my head to the gleaming marble countertop. When she opened the drawer under it, my wounded nipples brushed the cutlery it held. When she forced the drawer closed on my breasts with her hip, my scream sliced through the air like the blade she had tossed aside.
A cruel goddess. A sadistic one. I felt more than pain as she crushed my breasts. I felt panic.
I flung my elbow up and back. Blind luck put the point of her jaw in its path. The impact radiated up to my shoulder and down to my fingers. Her weight against the drawer fell away.
I was free. I staggered sideways, escaping back into the main room, turning to face Maeya as I did. She slammed into me as soon as I did, her chest driving into mine. I landed on my back, my head thudding on the hardwood floor. The room tilted and spun, a nightmarish carnival ride.
She lifted me back to my knees, pulling both of my arms back to arch me, to display me to the audience. My torso gleamed with sweat. My breasts were streaked with blood. My head hung forward, my hair a veil over my pain-twisted face. They applauded. They cheered my torment. Tim turned away in disgust.
She twisted my arms further back. My shoulders felt as if they would dislocate. I screamed, blood from my lips dripping on my chest. She simply held me there, trembling in pain. My mind spun and lifted, disassociating. I don’t know how long she held me. I suppose it was no more than a minute or two. It could have been hours. When she let go, I fell forward, my breasts and head striking the floor. I couldn’t move or feel my arms.
Maeya waited. She sat prettily in a chair with her right leg crossed over her left at her knee and watched me in utter contempt.
I forced myself to my feet. My shoulders ached horribly, feeling returning slowly to my numbed fingers. She stood. I tried to hit her but she blocked it, almost casually, and drove her fist into my ovary. I jerked like a badly managed marionette, a sob of pure pain bursting from my mouth. She whipped a backhand across my face, twisting me. I staggered, bent forward, only dimly aware of the blood from my split lip spattering on the floor. Her knee scythed up into my breasts.
I felt my knees hit the floor. Everything else was a blur of pain.
She tied a slip knot in my discarded robe belt. She pushed it over my head, and pulled it tight around my neck. I tried to crawl. She dragged me, to the balcony, the two of us alone in the humid Macau sky.
Did you hope this could be a tale of a comeback, dear reader?
She ground me against the glass as her man moved to the other side, watching. His cock was an obvious bulge as she smeared my breasts across the surface for his pleasure. The slip knot bit deep into my neck. The pulse in my carotid artery slowed.
I was her puppet of pain, and he nodded his approval. She drove her knee into the muscles of my back. Into my spine. Each time, the glass shivered as the impact ripped through me. Each time my breasts were crushed, flattened. My nipples leaked a bloody, oily proto-milk on the glass. My open mouth was soundless but my body screamed.
She dragged me to the balcony railing, and bent me backwards over it, threading my leash back through under the lower railing. I gazed sightlessly at the night sky as she pulled it tight and sank her nails again into the meat of my tortured breast.
The only mercy I received was the mercy of unconsciousness. Airless, beaten darkness.
*****************************************
I came to in dim light, in one of the bedrooms, aware immediately of her soundless presence. My throat was raw. My chest was aching, my breasts swollen and torn. The apartment was silent as her shadow.
My wrists were bound, my arms outstretched. My body arched, uselessly. She knelt between my legs, her knees spread my thighs wide. She turned the thing she held in her hand so that it caught what light there was.
I moaned as she slipped one half of it into her pussy. The rest curved over me.
“Your second lesson,” Maeya whispered, and with a thrust of her hips she drove it into me.
78
Board News and General Announcements / Re: Important Notice for UK MEMBERS & VISITORS
« Last post by DavidG on May 10, 2025, 06:21:43 PM »Never even saw this post until right now
Been an issue today but that’s the first time had trouble and guess it’s unrelated as I’ve now got back on without changing anything
Had this UK stuff been pushed back or thankfully not happening anymore
Been an issue today but that’s the first time had trouble and guess it’s unrelated as I’ve now got back on without changing anything
Had this UK stuff been pushed back or thankfully not happening anymore
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Producer Announcements / Xena vs Tanya 2 affrontement in a wrestling match | Xena Production
« Last post by Xena production on May 10, 2025, 03:46:01 PM »Xena vs Tanya 2 affrontement in a wrestling match | Xena Production
On this old video we reunite with Xena and Tanya for a second encounter filled with tension and emotions. After their first clash, where Xena, still a novice, faced Tanya's power and determination, this new confrontation promises to be even more intense. Both fighters have evolved since their last meeting, each having sharpened their skills and strengthened their strategies.
The setting is an epic landscape, where memories of their previous battle linger in the air. Viewers will feel the palpable anticipation as Xena, now more confident and determined, prepares to prove that she has learned from her mistakes. Tanya, on the other hand, is ready to defend her title and demonstrate that she remains a formidable opponent.
The video will highlight moments of tension, sharp exchanges of words, and spectacular combat sequences that showcase the evolution of both warriors. Fans of their adventures will be captivated by this new dynamic, where honor, rivalry, and camaraderie intertwine. Who will emerge victorious in this duel, and what lessons will be learned from this encounter?
Link to the video: https://www.clips4sale.com/studio/222815/30948765/xena-wrestling-vs-tanya-cora-2-affrontement-in-a-wrestling-match
Other Xena production competitive wrestling videos: https://www.xena-wrestling.com/en/lutte-comp%C3%A9titive
On this old video we reunite with Xena and Tanya for a second encounter filled with tension and emotions. After their first clash, where Xena, still a novice, faced Tanya's power and determination, this new confrontation promises to be even more intense. Both fighters have evolved since their last meeting, each having sharpened their skills and strengthened their strategies.
The setting is an epic landscape, where memories of their previous battle linger in the air. Viewers will feel the palpable anticipation as Xena, now more confident and determined, prepares to prove that she has learned from her mistakes. Tanya, on the other hand, is ready to defend her title and demonstrate that she remains a formidable opponent.
The video will highlight moments of tension, sharp exchanges of words, and spectacular combat sequences that showcase the evolution of both warriors. Fans of their adventures will be captivated by this new dynamic, where honor, rivalry, and camaraderie intertwine. Who will emerge victorious in this duel, and what lessons will be learned from this encounter?
Link to the video: https://www.clips4sale.com/studio/222815/30948765/xena-wrestling-vs-tanya-cora-2-affrontement-in-a-wrestling-match
Other Xena production competitive wrestling videos: https://www.xena-wrestling.com/en/lutte-comp%C3%A9titive
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Live Action Clips / Re: youtube catfight
« Last post by Sully on May 10, 2025, 10:51:32 AM »Finally no idiot telling them how to fight don't pull hair etc. But after the fight right at the end the one girl exclaiming "Oh you bleeding!" with what sounded like real concern? adorable hehe
This ! 100%
