Family Wrestling Videos: Christmas Battle Royal
By Stone Kidman
This all started when I was cleaning out my dad's basement after he passed away and I found a box with a bunch of unlabeled VHS tapes. Upon viewing them I discovered they were my family's home movies of wrestling matches featuring my sisters and mother. While I've been taking my time transcribing each of them, I think I hit the jackpot. This video started as a stark contrast of a nice sunny day with a prostyle ring setup in some grassy field or large backyard with a row of small cabins lining the background.
Normally these family fights took place in a basement but I would soon discover why the sudden change in venue. It was 1990 I think; my dad never learned how to set the date on his old video camera but this could only explain the sight I saw. The first one to walk to the ring was my older sister, Heather; back then she would have been nineteen since she started attending community college that year. My sister was 5'07" and a slender 127 pounds with a 38D cup; her long jet black hair hung to her shoulders. She came out in a white terry cloth bathrobe, barefoot, before she removed the robe to reveal she wore a black one piece swimsuit that had a plunging neckline to show off her cleavage.
Not soon after, our mother came out to the ring wearing a colorful purple silk robe. Lorraine would've been in her forties, since she had gotten pregnant with Heather while in high school; she stood 5'09" and weighed around 190 pounds with a 40E cup, putting on a lot of weight after having me and my younger sister by then. She removed the robe to reveal a stretched out red one piece that had a stupid little skirt thing around the waist. Mom had her dark hair cut short, above the ears, since my younger sister had liked to pull on it--almost foreshadowing her career as a catfighter at an early age.
Next was our grandmother, a short slender woman with perfectly kept grey hair in a bob. Grandma had on a shiny pink silk robe and slipped through the ropes before removing it to reveal a green one piece, also with a deep neckline, though she wasn't nearly as busty as my mother or older sister. Grandma was in her sixties; 5'03" and roughly 122 pounds with a 30C cup but from personal experience I knew how fit she kept herself since she was like a stick of dynamite after the bell rang. Next came out aunt Joan in a grey bathrobe; she was probably the most posh acting of my aunts, with her dark brown hair cut just below her ears she had the prettiest face of my mom's side of the family.
Joan removed her robe to reveal a bright blue one piece, conservatively cut; she was 5'05" and 131 pounds with a 36C, she had toned legs and arms as the bright sun shone down on the women who awkwardly stared at each other across the ring. Next my aunt Donna came out, she was younger than Joan by two years, so they were both in their early thirties, but a little pudgier. Donna had on a blue and red robe, almost like a kimono, her dark brown hair was cut even shorter at exactly ear length, when she removed the robe to reveal a bright yellow swimsuit, also very conservatively cut. She was an inch taller than Joan and weighed around 135 with a 34C cup and plump ass.
Finally, the latest addition to the family came out, my hot hippie aunt Jennifer. My uncle Bobby was the youngest of my mother's siblings and he had met Jen before they honeymooned in India and got really into what I considered hippie stuff; new age feelings and meditation but I never knew if they were buddhist or whatever. Still she was twenty one, only a few years older than Heather, with long blonde hair down to her midback. Jennifer hadn't bothered with a robe and came out wearing a brown bikini beneath a matching sarjong, which she removed after entering the ring. She was very skinny at 5'07'' and 119 pounds with a 30B cup but just had a killer body compared to the rest.
My dad, from behind the camera, suddenly told them to begin and it was instant pandemonium. Grandma charged after my mother, jabbing a thumb in her eye I think, because Lorraine turned away, and grandma got a handful of her short dark hair to ram mom's face into the turnbuckle. Joan and Donna instantly went after each other's hair, spinning around until they tumbled out through the ropes onto the grass and catballed across it. The ring itself was only a foot off the ground since it didn't look like the full scale ring my grandparents had built in what I was told was their detached garage but soon became The Arena.
Nobody had done any introductions or went over the rules so I was perplexed by what was happening while I watched my sister grab aunt Jen by her long hair and whip the skinny blonde around like a shot put. I had to assume there were unspoken rules; no closed fists or kicks to the face, no biting or joint locks, these were the standard rules, since Heather was pummeling our aunt with harsh open palm slaps to the face while the blonde tried to free her hair from my sister's grip. She finally threw Jen out of the ring and I wasn't sure if this was a typical battle royal, where you normally toss an opponent over the top rope to eliminate them, but I soon picked up the caveat of this brawl.
The audio was terrible, because it was outside with the wind blowing and filmed on a video camera from the eighties, but I could occasionally pick up some of the women swearing at each other. This was typically the way my sister fought as she stepped through the ropes to kick aunt Jen in the ribs while she tried to get up. "Where you goin', bitch," Heather snarled as dad followed this action. The rest of the mayhem was now offscreen, as I had seen my mother slumped in the corner getting her tits worked over by grandma.
"I thought you were gonna clean my clock, bitch," Heather hissed as she stomped down on Jennifer's stomach after the blonde stopped rolling from the kick. Our aunt curled into a ball, coughing and wheezing, when Heather knelt down and wrapped Jennifer's long hair around her fist. "Ahh!" the blonde cried out as she was lifted to her feet before my sister flipped our aunt with a hairmare. The impact must've hurt, judging by how Jen arched her back after landing, since it was just this open field of bare grass. Our aunt's top had slid down in the ruckus and Heather bent over to dig her nails into the blonde’s smaller boobs.
“Aieee,” Jen squealed as she tried to remove my sister’s wrists. Heather pulled herself out of our aunt’s grip before she slapped Jen across the face twice. “Get up, slut,“ Heather sneered as she pulled aunt Jen up by her long hair. “Oomph,“ the blonde grunted after my sister drove a knee into Jen’s tight stomach. She bent our aunt around into an abdominal stretch before Heather resumed her breast clawing.
“That’s right scream for me, whore,” my sister laughed as Jen’s wails could be heard echoing across the yard. She alternated raking her nails across each boob before tugging Jen’s nipple so hard it looked like a taut rubber band, ready to snap. Jen’s legs seemed to go out as she fell to the grass; sobbing and clutching her bare chest.
"Want to go for another ride, cxnt," Heather yelled and yanked Jen up by her hair again. This time she rammed her knee into the blonde's crotch, making Jenn groan and bend over to grab her pussy, before she flipped our aunt nearly out of frame. That's when dad turned further away from the ring and I realized what kind of match this was. There was a long wooden bench, the kind you'd sit at a picnic table with, only it looked like it could seat ten people. In front of the bench was a little wooden T shaped thing, almost like a backrest but it was too low. That's when I saw Heather drag aunt Jen's head up onto the bench; it looked almost like an executioner's block as she told the blonde to stay still.
"Guess I can call you aunt jobber now," my sister laughed as she reached down to pick up a two foot long piece of wood with a hole cut into the middle. She placed it down around our aunt's neck then clicked some small padlock attached to it shut around the bottom piece. When the camera panned back to see Heather lift Jen's head up to ask our newly named aunt jobber how she liked her accommodations, I could see the waves crashing in the distance and suddenly it all came back to me.
I remembered this must've been when the entire family on my mother's side went down to Florida for Christmas. Our grandparents had rented out bungalows somewhere near Orlando, or in the keys--I would've been too young to know the difference. I think this battle had to take place when grandpa and our uncles took me, my younger sister and our cousins to Disney World. That suddenly explained the grassy field and nice weather for what should've been a freezing cold day.
When my sister turned to resume the brawl, suddenly grandma appeared in the frame. She shoved her thumb into Heather's eye then drove an uppercut between the teen's legs. My sister staggered around but grandma yanked Heather back by her long dark hair. Despite being in her sixties, she was quite fit and flipped Heather over with a hairmare. After she landed on the grass, grandma stood on my sister's hair to hold her in place while she bent down and dug her nails into Heather's D cups. My sister screeched and kicked her bare feet wildly on the grass when I heard our mother tell Heather to hold on. When dad panned back to the ring I saw mom getting up from the canvas.
Her swimsuit straps had been torn off and her tits were not only exposed but already sported bruises and visible scratches from grandma's earlier assault. However, when mom started to use the ropes to pull herself up, aunt Joan and Donna abruptly stopped fighting each other and turned to attack Lorraine. Joan clubbed mom from behind with her fists mashed together, the blow sent mom back to the mat, while Donna kicked her oldest sister in the ribs. They dragged mom up slightly by her short black hair only to choke her over the middle ring rope. Donna had her knee over the back of mom's neck and reached under to claw up Lorraine's big tits; her garbled shrieks echoed in the small field when Joan knelt down to twist mom's nipple.
Dad panned back and Heather had her swimsuit torn open down the front, her breasts were crisscrossed with scratches while grandma was likewise choking the teen with the strap of her own swimsuit. She got up and half dragged my sister around with this noose, pausing occasionally to slap the teen across the face or dig her nails into Heather's titty, when grandma used the garrote to flip my sister onto the bench. Heather didn't land right, kind of on her side, so grandma stood on the bench to stomp on my sister's melons; flattening them under her heel while the busty bitch bellowed in agony. When Heather rolled over to protect her chest, grandma dragged the teen's throat over the edge of the stocks by the leash she had made of the swimsuit.
"This'll teach you to use that nasty mouth around me," grandma hollered. My sister had been calling her a bitch and a cxnt the whole time she had tortured her, which most likely irritated the older woman. Grandma raked Heather’s eyes once to immobilize my sister before she picked up the wooden gate and locked it over the teen's neck. Dad hadn't been focusing on the ring so it was a shock to see grandma get surprise attacked by her three daughters.
Mom, along with both aunt Joan and Donna, blitzed the older woman; tackling her to the grass while slapping and kicking her. She was a tough old bird and still tried fighting off the trio; grabbing Joan's hair while facepalming my mom back as she sat atop her own mother, until Donna managed to kneel on the older woman's throat. This seemed to incapacitate grandma; her arms kind of floundered around from not being able to breathe, as the three women pummeled their mother with face slaps and breast clawing while they yanked on her grey hair.
She tried to fight them back but Donna was pushed off balance by grandma's bucking, so she maneuvered the knee over the throat into a figure four headscissors. Mom pulled down the straps of grandma's swimsuit and said something like this was payback for Heather. Honestly the audio was difficult to hear normally, like all of my sister's indecipherable shit talk, but with the four women grunting and cursing it was all just a cacophony of noise.
Grandma's modest C cups were cruelly twisted under mom's sadistic tutelage while Donna choked her mother by tightening her shin against the older woman's windpipe in the figure four. Joan, meanwhile, moved back after Donna began tugging grandma's hair, in between slapping her, so she was able to catch her breath before grabbing the older woman's legs. My aunt split her mother's thighs in half while she kicked and stomped grandma's cxnt until the old bag finally made some beleaguered groan.
"Enough!" she managed to squawk before mom finally got up to stomp her mother's stomach once. They dragged grandma's limp body over to the bench and locked her in without any resistance from their matriarch. As soon as the padlock snapped shut, Joan and Donna instantly turned on my mother. Lorraine was yanked around by her short dark hair while the duo slammed knees and fists into my mom's protruding belly. She either lost her balance or had the wind knocked out of her because mom fell to her knees on the grass when Joan yanked her older sister's head back by her dark hair. She wrapped an arm around my mom's throat, almost like a dragon sleeper, while both she and Donna punched, slapped and clawed my mother's jugs.
She tried to reach up and grab Joan's hair before Lorraine began protecting her boobs. That’s when Donna began using mom's plump stomach like a heavy bag; not only sinking her fists in deep but drove a couple knees hard enough that I thought mom was going to barf. When she seemed to have finally gone limp, from either the choking or belly punching, Joan let mom go. She flopped onto the grass, gasping and wheezing, but didn't try to move or escape.
Instead of just locking her up like the rest, Joan seemed to get a nasty idea. She pulled mom onto all fours by her short hair then sat down on her back like a camel clutch. She fish hooked mom in front of dad's camera, her pathetic whining was like music to my ears. My mother was always the type of woman who was never wrong, even when you proved it to her. She always had such an ego about her, like she was queen of the world, so it was especially cathartic to see her so humbled.
“Tell your husband what a loser you are,” Joan commanded. When mom didn’t speak fast enough, Donna was there, kneeling next to her sisters, to reach under and twist mom's jugs like she was milking a cow. Her orbs sported a lot of bruises and the way her eyes went wide I could tell how sensitive they were when Donna stretched her sibling's nipples.
“I’m a loser,“ mom blubbered finally. Joan said something but it was too hard to hear. Mom squealed like a pig again when Joan ceased the fish hook to yank mom’s swimsuit up her ass with a super wedgie while Donna sunk her nails into my mother’s fleshy E cups and twisted them around.
“I’m a fat pig…,“ she started to say but began to cry until both Joan and Donna reached under to claw up her tits and twist her nipples. “Ahhh! Fine! I’m a fat pig with a worthless husband and slut of a daughter. You can use us all night, make us your slaves!” She was sobbing as the two sister’s continued their tit torture until Joan seemed to get tired of moms sobbing and wrapped her arms around her head and throat.
It only took a couple of seconds until mom went limp from the sleeper hold as the two women had to carry her unconscious body over to lock Lorraine into the stocks. Inexplicably, Donna and Joan turned to face each other and began French kissing. My jaw hit the floor as their tongues lewdly intertwined before they pushed a hand up into the crotch of the other's swimsuit.
“Ahh, just like before…,“ Joan said after the duo finally broke their kiss. The wrists pumped in and out after their fingers slid up the leg hole of the one piece, clearly fingering each other.
“Yep, old rules; just like when we were in college,” Donna said, her voice husky with lust. “First one to cums loses and has to eat the winner.” They resumed their passionate kissing for a few moments before Donna pulled down the strap of her sister’s swimsuit and leaned her mouth lower to suck on my aunt’s firm 36C cup.
“You always were jealous of my tits,“ Joan sighed before it was her turn to tug down both of Donna’s swimsuit straps, baring my aunt's perky B cups. Donna instinctively tried to cover up, as dad maneuvered around with the camera, but Joan pulled her sister’s hands away.
“Nuh uh,” the fit brunette said with a sing-song voice as she kissed her way down Donna’s slender neck before wrapping her lips around her sister’s nipple. “Mmm, everything is fair,” Joan said as she alternated between sucking on each breast. This went on for over a minute until Donna pulled Joan's head up by her hair so they could resume their kissing. She slid down Joan's swimsuit, so both women were exposed to the waist, while their hands explored each other's bodies.
"Ahhh," Donna gasped after Joan had pushed her hand down the front of her sister's one piece and began rubbing her pussy. "You always did have a sensitive clit," Joan snickered before she resumed sucking Donna's nipple. My aunt's mouth formed an O shape as Joan's arm swirled around, indicating she was working her sister's clit. Donna managed to grab Joan's arm, probably before she could finish her off, and said it was her turn. My aunt knelt to slide Joan's swimsuit down to her ankles before Donna began licking her sister's trimmed bush.
"Ohhh god you were so good at that," Joan gasped and pushed her sister's head tighter against her muff. "Well I got a lot of practice," Donna said, after she sat back. She stood and shared a slower, sensual kiss with her sibling, tasting each other, before it was Joan's turn to strip Donna, after she had stepped out of her own swimsuit. Donna made small girlish gasps and squeals while Joan knelt down to gently lick her younger sister's hairy twat.
"N-no, not yet...," Donna said, pushing her sister back after her own legs began to tremble. "How we always used to finish it...," she said and knelt down in the grass in front of Joan. They shared another kiss, their hands playing with each other's breasts before they moved down to finger each other again. The kiss was broken as the duel seemed to finally ramp up. Donna laid her sweaty forehead on Joan's shoulder, gasping rhymically while her sister fingerbanged her. Soon Joan's eyes closed as she bit her lip to keep from moaning but it was clear they seemed to be tied.
Finally, they each broke off their fingering to embrace in an aggressive kiss, their tongues slathering over each other's faces, almost like dogs, before they each pivoted their hips back. They spread their legs and slammed their crotches together, Donna shuddered while Joan pressed her advantage. The two women scissored each other, calling the other a slut I think; it was difficult to hear since they were speaking in these husky voices.
"You're going down," I heard Joan say before Donna readjusted her position. She was sitting up, one hand pushing on the grass for balance, while she thrust and pivoted her hips. Joan threw her head back and let a loud gasp escape while Donna chuckled. "Don't count your clits until they're hatched, baby," my aunt laughed in between deep pants. Joan sat up and matched her sister's form before grabbing Donna's thigh. I watched her face almost melt as Donna's breath seemed to catch in her throat when Joan began hyper pumping her pussy up and down, their clits ground and slapped together, before Donna seized up.
It looked almost like she was being electrocuted, trying to fight her way back from the edge but Joan reached over and gave her sister's nipple a gentle pinch but that was the final straw. Donna fell back onto the grass; moaning, screaming and writhing as she had to beg Joan to stop the tribbing. I watched my sweaty aunt stand up and pump her fists in the air before she rolled Donna onto her back.
"You know what to do, loser," she commanded before squatting over her sister's mouth. Donna's tongue protruded to flick aunt Joan's clit almost like a snake before the victorious brunette planted her pussy firmly on her sibling's face. Donna was obscured under Joan as she ground herself to two orgasms, fucking my aunt's face until Donna must've passed out from being denied oxygen. At any rate, Joan half dragged her sister over to the stocks and locked her in before posing behind the beaten family for my dad to record.
The video cut to static and usually that's where these end before the tape suddenly resumed. The tracking took a moment to adjust the image but I saw Joan, wearing a strap on, as she fucked each woman from behind. Jen was already moaning; it sounded muffled and at first I thought it was the poor audio until the camera panned down and dad was fucking the hippie's mouth with his cock. He gave her a nice facial after Joan had fucked the hot blonde to one powerful orgasm and a second smaller one. Dad was still hard as they decided to switch as Joan made heather clean off her pink rubber dick before she fucked my sister's face while dad entered Heather from behind.
"Is it as good as before," Joan asked my father. Dad kind of nodded with the camera and made an okay sign with his fingers, he was panting hard from the effort. Fortunately he didn't finish inside her as they switched to fuck my mom's mouth while Joan went behind her to plug mom's ass, judging by how loud she was moaning. Dad gave her a facial too and Joan finished off fucking her mother and other sister while dad let Heather's mouth work on his dick until he gave her a facial too.
"Sorry sweetie, you knew the rules," he said. Donna was asking for dad's cock to suck while Joan fucked her sister to a couple orgasms. They just wanted him to give grandma a facial since I assume they had never seen her beaten before. The video cut off after that and I have no idea if mom and Heather wound up as Joan's slaves that night but I sure was glad to find this lost treasure; a true Christmas gift.
