The app was a cesspool of shadows, a digital back alley where the depraved met to barter their darkest urges. Dave and Roger didn’t know each other’s names when they first logged in—just anonymous handles, “DumpTruckKing” and “TripleD_Titan,” paired up by some faceless algorithm that thrived on chaos. Their wives, Kayla and Allison, didn’t know each other either, but that didn’t stop the venom from spilling out the second the app sent a notification.
The app pinged Dave and Kayla first. A match. Anonymous, encrypted, a digital pulse from the internet’s shadows. Roger and Allison got the same hit moments later. Two couples, strangers linked by a primal itch, connected via screen. The video chat flared up, and there they were: Kayla, 5’4”, blonde, 36D tits straining her top, 149 pounds packed into a size 10 dress, her “dump truck ass” (Dave’s proud snarl) swaying as she leaned in. Across the divide stood Allison, 5’4” too, blonde hair spilling past mid-back, 36DDD breasts heaving, 155 pounds of swagger in her own size 10, smirking like her rack and mane made her royalty.
It started civil—names, stats, small talk—but the air curdled fast. Kayla’s lip curled. “I’ll rip that hair out by the roots, bitch.” Allison laughed, low and mean. “I’ll smother you with these tits ‘til you beg, slut.” Threats flew, sharp and sexual, each jab a slap. Dave shifted, pants tightening. Roger’s breath hitched, cock twitching. The wives noticed, eyes glinting.
The husbands sat there, cocks twitching despite the unease curling in their guts. Dave’s jaw tightened as Kayla’s threats grew filthier; Roger shifted in his seat as Allison promised to “fuck that cow’s face with my foot.” The women fed off each other’s bile, their voices rising, spit flying at the screens. It was a train wreck neither man could look away from—and hell, they didn’t want to.
“Set it up,” Kayla snapped at Dave, dropping to her knees. “Now.” Allison mirrored her, yanking Roger’s shorts down. “Do it, or I’ll fuck you up instead.”
“Make it happen,” Megan snarled, dropping to her knees in front of Dave. She yanked his shorts down, her mouth closing over his dick with a wet, aggressive slurp. Across the chat, Allison mirrored her, sinking down and taking Roger deep, her eyes locked on the camera, daring Megan to back down. The men groaned, half-embarrassed, half-thrilled, their hands fumbling to steady the laptops as their wives worked them over.
The men fumbled, half-dazed, as wet mouths closed over them. Slurping drowned the speakers, loud and sloppy. “No holds barred,” Dave grunted, gripping Kayla’s hair. “Best of three,” Roger replied, thrusting into Allison’s throat. “Winner takes it all,” grunted Dave as his wife noisily slurped as she powerfucked her throat with his cock.
The boasts escalated—Kayla’s fists, Allison’s kicks—until Dave groaned, and Roger seized the advantage. Roger nodded, sweat beading on his brow as Allison’s head bobbed. “Yeah—fuck yeah. My girl’ll break yours in half.”
Dave bucked and came, a guttural shout ripping from his throat. Roger followed seconds later, Allison choking down his load with a triumphant smirk. The call ended with semen-slicked grins and a date: tomorrow night.
The strip mall hulked in the dusk, a concrete corpse. One empty unit, keys stashed per the app’s orders. Dave and Kayla rolled up front; Roger and Allison took the back. Inside, the air stank of dust and desperation. Two anterooms flanked the middle battleground, each a cramped pen with peeling paint and a floor scarred by bare feet—women’s soles, dozens of fights past, DNA baked into the grime. The cameras watched, unblinking, feeding the silent, paying crowd.
Kayla stepped into the front anteroom, crackling with energy, her blonde hair a wild halo. She peeled off her top, slow and deliberate, 36D tits bouncing free, nipples hardening in the stale air. Her dress hit the floor next, revealing that big, firm ass Dave bragged about, quivering with every move. She kicked her panties aside, standing nude, a predator in heat. Her hand slid into Dave’s shorts, stroking his thickening cock as she stared at the door to the middle room. Some bitch in there thinks she’s tougher, she thought, resolve steeling her spine. I’ll hurt her. For Dave. For me. Her grip tightened, pumping him slow, her breath hot and jagged. She felt feminine, sexual, invincible—ready to claw a stranger’s eyes out to prove it.
Allison, in the back anteroom, matched her vibe, electric and feral. She stripped with a flourish, tossing her bra to let her 36DDD tits spill out, heavy and proud, nipples stiff with anticipation. Her long blonde hair swished as she shed her dress, size 10 curves gleaming with sweat. Panties off, she stood bare, a goddess of war, her hand diving into Roger’s shorts to stroke him hard. That cow’s gonna bleed for me, she mused, her pulse racing. Roger’s gonna see me break her. I’m the queen here. Her fingers worked him, slick with intent, her body humming with violent lust. The cameras caught every twitch, every glare toward the fight ahead.
Dave’s voice rumbled, low and fervent, as Kayla pumped him. “You’re gonna smash her, babe. She’s got nothing on you—your fists, your fire. That ass’ll grind her into dust.” His words stoked her, her chest swelling with pride and fury. She imagined the other woman—some blonde slut with big tits, maybe—crumpling under her knuckles, screaming for mercy. Her strokes quickened, her own arousal pooling, feminine power surging. She wanted Dave’s eyes on her, wide with awe, when she crushed this stranger. Her free hand grazed her own nipple, a shiver running through her as she pictured the chaos to come.
Roger, across the building, growled his own hype. “Allie, you’re a fucking machine. She can’t touch you—those tits, that hair, you’ll bury her. Kick her ass ‘til she’s crying.” Allison’s lips curled, her hand jerking him faster, her long hair brushing his thighs. She saw it clear: some loudmouth with a fat ass, begging as Allison’s fists rained down. He’s gonna cum again watching me win, she thought, her ego blazing. Her body thrummed, sexual and savage, every nerve lit with the need to hurt, to impress, to dominate. The floor beneath her bare feet felt alive with ghosts of past fighters, urging her on.
The tension coiled tighter, the air thick with musk and menace. Kayla’s eyes locked on the middle door, her strokes on Dave relentless, his breath ragged. “I’m gonna break her for you,” she hissed, voice dripping venom and desire. Dave groaned, hips bucking, and exploded—thick ropes of cum splattering the grimy floor, joining the DNA of countless battles before. Allison, hearing Roger’s grunts peak, squeezed him harder, whispering, “She’s dead meat.” Roger erupted too, his load hitting the stained concrete, a wet splat in the silence. Both women stood, wiping their hands, crackling with energy, ready to ruin.
Fall One
The middle room erupted as the women charged. Kayla swung first, a looping right haymaker smashing Allison’s jaw with a dull thwack. Allison’s head jerked, but she fired back, a quick left jab snapping Kayla’s nose sideways. “Fucking bitch!” Kayla snarled, grabbing Allison’s hair and yanking hard. Strands ripped free, blonde snow on the floor. Allison screamed, “My hair!” and drove a straight right into Kayla’s cheek, knuckles grinding bone. Kayla grunted, then hooked a left into Allison’s ribs, a meaty thud rippling her flesh.
Dave bellowed, “Get her, babe! Smash that slut!” Roger countered, “Rip her apart, Allie! Fuck her up!” The wives obeyed, feral and frenzied. Kayla charged, a wild right cross clipping Allison’s temple, dazing her. Allison stumbled, then snapped a crisp left uppercut into Kayla’s chin, teeth clacking. Kayla reeled, but tackled Allison, slamming her into the wall. Plaster puffed as Allison’s tits squashed flat. She twisted free, throwing a sloppy right hook that grazed Kayla’s ear, then a sharp left jab to her eye, swelling it fast.
Kayla roared, swinging a heavy overhand right that cracked Allison’s cheekbone. Allison yelped, retaliating with a double jab—left, right—stinging Kayla’s lips. They clinched, nails raking. Kayla sank her teeth into Allison’s neck, a quick, hard nip—no blood, just a shriek as Allison flailed. “You cxnt!” Allison bit back, chomping Kayla’s shoulder, teeth clamping muscle. Kayla howled, shoving Allison off and landing a brutal left hook to her jaw, rocking her.
The men roared. “Finish her, Kayla!” Dave yelled. “Crush that cow, Allie!” Roger barked. The women grappled, sweat-slicked. Allison threw a wild right cross, missing, and Kayla countered with a straight left to her nose, flattening it. Allison staggered, then lunged, biting Kayla’s thigh—a fast, vicious clamp. Kayla screamed, kicking free, and smashed a right jab into Allison’s eye, blackening it. Allison snarled, grabbing Kayla and hurling her down. Straddling her, she slammed a left hook into Kayla’s temple, then a right to her mouth, bruising deep.
Kayla bucked, hooking Allison’s arm and flipping her. Now on top, she rained punches—left jab to the nose, right cross to the cheek, left hook to the jaw—each pop echoing. Allison thrashed, then bit Kayla’s ass, teeth sinking into the firm flesh. Kayla shrieked, recoiling, and Allison surged, locking Kayla’s arms and slamming her huge tits onto Kayla’s face. “Choke, bitch!” Kayla gasped, then chomped Allison’s breast—a quick, hard bite. Allison howled, rearing back, and Kayla pounced, hooking a chokehold. “Tap, skank!” Allison flailed, face purpling, then slapped the floor. Submission.
Dave crowed victory. Roger cursed, stroking Allison’s hair as she spat, panting. “Next round,” she growled.
Fall Two
Round two exploded with hate. Allison struck first, a spinning backfist cracking Kayla’s cheek with a wet smack. Kayla staggered, then fired a straight right into Allison’s mouth, splitting her lip. “Floppy bitch!” Allison screeched, throwing a left jab to Kayla’s eye, then a right hook to her jaw, snapping her head sideways. Kayla grunted, retaliating with a left uppercut to Allison’s chin, followed by a wild right cross that slammed her temple. Allison wobbled, grabbing Kayla’s hair and wrenching her down. Kayla’s knees hit concrete, but she surged up, tackling Allison’s legs. They crashed, rolling, nails slashing.
“Fuck her up, Kayla!” Dave shouted. “Smash that ass, Allie!” Roger countered. The wives obeyed, relentless. Allison threw a quick left jab to Kayla’s nose, then a right hook to her ribs—crack—bruising deep. Kayla wheezed, swinging a sloppy overhand left that grazed Allison’s ear, then a sharp right jab to her eye, swelling it. Allison snarled, biting Kayla’s neck—a fast nip, no blood, just a scream. Kayla shoved her off, landing a left hook to Allison’s cheek, then a right cross to her nose, flattening it again.
Allison ducked a wild punch, slamming a straight left into Kayla’s gut, doubling her over. She followed with a right uppercut to Kayla’s chin, teeth rattling, then a left jab to her lip, bruising it purple. Kayla roared, charging with a right haymaker that smashed Allison’s jaw, rocking her. Allison stumbled, then bit Kayla’s thigh—hard, teeth sinking in. Kayla shrieked, kicking free, and threw a left jab to Allison’s nose, then a right hook to her temple, dazing her.
They clinched, panting. Kayla bit Allison’s ass—a quick chomp, making her yelp—then threw a straight right to her eye, blackening it more. Allison retaliated, chomping Kayla’s breast, teeth clamping the soft flesh. Kayla howled, shoving Allison down and straddling her. She hammered punches—left jab to the nose, right cross to the cheek, left hook to the jaw, right uppercut to the chin—each blow a thunderclap. Allison bucked, hooking Kayla’s arm and flipping her. Now on top, she slammed a left hook to Kayla’s temple, then a right to her ribs, cracking something.
Kayla thrashed, biting Allison’s neck again—no blood, just a scream. Allison reared back, locking Kayla’s head between her thighs. “Suck it, whore!” She squeezed, Kayla’s face mashed into her crotch, gasping. Dave winced; Roger whooped. Kayla clawed free, slamming a right jab to Allison’s eye, then a left hook to her jaw. Allison rocked, and Kayla pounced, hooking her arms and wrenching back. “Give!” Allison thrashed, spit flying, then tapped out, sobbing.
Interlude: Between Falls Two and Three
Score tied, the air electric with tension and confidence and fury. The women squatted before their men, facing inward—Dave and Roger locked eyes across the room, a silent duel. Kayla’s ass, big and firm, flexed as she crouched, her back slick with sweat, blonde hair matted. Allison’s long mane draped her spine, her 36DDD tits swaying as she settled, her ass taut and pale. The men stood, cocks rigid, glaring over their wives’ heads, each seeing the other’s woman—vulnerable, fierce, a taunt in flesh.
Kayla engulfed Dave’s cock, lips stretching wide, slurping loud and hungry. She gagged as he thrust, her throat bulging, spit dribbling. That bitch thinks she’s got me, she thought, fury spiking. I’ll rip her apart. The wet gluck-gluck of Allison across the room fueled her—rival noise, a challenge. She sucked harder, noisier, her tongue swirling, wanting Dave to feel her fire, to know she’d kill for him. Her ass clenched, thighs trembling, arousal and rage mixing as she heard Allison’s sloppy gags, a mirror of her own.
Allison worked Roger with equal ferocity, her mouth a vacuum, sucking deep and messy. She choked as he drilled her throat, spit coating her chin, her long hair swaying with each bob. That cow’s gonna beg, she seethed, ears pricking at Kayla’s loud slurps. Roger’s mine, and I’ll prove it. She gagged louder, performative, her tongue lashing his shaft, her body quaking with the need to outdo, to dominate. The sight of Kayla’s back—curved, sweaty—stoked her hate; she’d crush that ass soon.
Dave’s glare bore into Roger, his hips bucking as Kayla’s mouth devoured him. My girl’s a fucking beast, he thought, pride swelling. Roger’s wife—those tits, that hair—was a target, a trophy to claim. His hands fisted Kayla’s hair, thrusting deeper, her gags a battle cry. Roger met his stare, unyielding, his own hands guiding Allison’s head, her slurps a defiant roar. Allie’s unstoppable, he mused, smirking at Dave. Your slut’s done. The room hummed with tension, cocks throbbing, wives warring through sound and suction.
Minutes stretched, the blowjob a duel of endurance. Kayla’s throat burned, her jaw aching, but she pushed on, gulping air between thrusts, her resolve ironclad. He’s gonna cum, and I’m gonna win, she vowed, hearing Allison’s desperate gags. Allison’s eyes watered, her throat raw, but she doubled down, sucking with feral need, her mind screaming, I’m better, I’ll finish her. Dave groaned first, erupting—thick spurts flooding Kayla’s mouth, spilling past her lips to drip onto the floor. Roger followed, grunting as Allison swallowed hard, cum leaking down her chin. Both women rose, panting, spitting semen, ready for the final fall.
Fall Three
The women squared off, spitting cum and spit—Allison’s glob splattered Kayla’s chest, Kayla’s hit Allison’s face. “Cumrag!” Kayla sneered. “Semen slut!” Allison shot back. They collided, fists flying. Kayla threw a quick left jab to Allison’s nose, then a right hook to her cheek, bruising it purple. Allison countered with a straight right to Kayla’s eye, swelling it shut, then a left uppercut to her chin, snapping her head back. Kayla grunted, swinging a wild overhand right that cracked Allison’s jaw, followed by a left jab to her lip, fattening it.
“End her, Kayla!” Dave roared. “Destroy that bitch, Allie!” Roger yelled. Allison ducked a punch, landing a left hook to Kayla’s ribs, then a right cross to her temple, dazing her. Kayla stumbled, throwing a sloppy right jab to Allison’s nose, then a left hook to her eye, blackening it further. Allison snarled, biting Kayla’s breast—a hard clamp, no blood, just a scream. Kayla shoved her off, slamming a straight left to Allison’s mouth, then a right uppercut to her chin, rocking her.
Allison charged, throwing a left jab to Kayla’s nose, then a right hook to her jaw, snapping it sideways. Kayla bit Allison’s thigh—quick, vicious—making her yelp, then landed a left cross to her cheek, bruising deep. Allison retaliated with a right haymaker to Kayla’s temple, then a left jab to her eye, swelling it more. They clinched, panting. Kayla threw a straight right to Allison’s nose, then a left hook to her ribs, cracking something. Allison bit Kayla’s ass—hard, teeth sinking in—and Kayla screamed, shoving her down.
Allison surged up, hammering Kayla’s face—left jab to the nose, right cross to the cheek, left hook to the jaw, right uppercut to the chin—each punch a wet smack. Kayla’s arms flailed, bruised and swollen, then drooped. Allison stomped her ribs—crack—then her thigh, her screams echoing. Kayla whimpered, crawling. Allison spat on her, thick and wet. “Pathetic.” She grabbed Kayla’s hair, dragging her, then dropped, planting her ass on Kayla’s face. “Submit, pig!” Kayla thrashed, muffled, then went limp, tapping weakly. Allison rose, victorious, spitting again as Kayla coughed, broken.
Roger cheered, cock hard as he kissed Allison’s bloody lips. Dave knelt by Kayla, stunned, helping her up as she sobbed, battered. The winners strutted out, gloating—“Fucking losers!”—while the losers limped away, clutching shredded pride.
Online, the crowd erupted—hundreds of comments, thousands of likes. “Best fight yet.” “Allison’s a beast.” “Kayla’s ass got trashed.” The app pinged. Next match loading.
