[katietay]

Note:
Previously, my "heroine" mother was called Karen, because I do know a muscular Karen Kwan. :p Also, the alliteration's nice.

But then, since I made the daughter Dahlia... the more I thought about it, the more I liked a floral naming theme. So, with this continuation (and thanks to all for reading and appreciating), I am retconning the name! It shall be Camellia and Dahlia Kwan, possibly the most muscular Asian mother-daughter pair in Santa Clara. Or are they...?

Here was the first series:
https://www.freecatfights.com/forums/index.php?topic=82246.msg578154#msg578154

**

For months after their bitter, brutal battle to the finish, Dahlia and Sylvia do not meet or speak with each other, via any channel. Sylvia posts a photo of herself on Instagram: a back view of herself standing on a balcony during sunrise, wearing only tiny thongs, flexing her arms. Taken by her mother, obviously. The accompanying caption says, “The muscles of a true champion – Mom and I know who REALLY won.” But she doesn’t tag Dahlia, and Dahlia gives no sign of having seen it, even though she has.

Likewise, Dahlia posts a gym picture of herself and her mother Camellia – arms around each other, beaming in midriff-baring tank tops as they each flex their free arms – she captions it with: “Always getting stronger together. I’m a winner because of you, Mom. #bestmomintheworld #strongestmom”. Neither Sylvia nor Sheila take the bait, and no hot-tempered messaging conversations take place between the two families. As far as anyone else can see it’s all just benign, wholesome mother-daughter fitness posting.

But behind the scenes…

A terse message comes in one afternoon, from Sheila to Camellia. "We need to talk."

It spoils Camellia's entire day. She finishes the rest of her work day in a distracted state, then comes home to find her daughter already waiting. "Hi, Mom."

"Hi, honey."

They share a kiss. Camellia shows her daughter the text.

"This is it. The next challenge," Dahlia says quietly.

Camellia nods, feeling her heart thud with anticipation. They sit down together on their couch. With Dahlia's hand supportively caressing her thigh, Camellia texts back. "What about?"

The reply is immediate -- Sheila has probably been waiting all day. "Our rematch. I want to beat your weak ass again and make it mine."

Camellia considers her response for a moment, then replies. "I will never back down from a challenge from you. When, where and how?"

"First let's talk," comes the next message. "Face to face. Coffee this Saturday afternoon." They name a place and time -- a popular cafe downtown.

Camellia looks up to meet Dahlia's shining eyes. "She has no idea what she's in for," Dahlia says adoringly. Her fingers squeeze her mother's hardened thigh muscles. Her arm rubs fondly against Camellia's muscular uppper arm.

Within these few months, they have been working out together harder than they ever have. Both women are now as strong and muscular as they have ever been, with broad solid shoulders and thick wide backs. Dahlia is particularly proud of her mother's lean, striated chest, although her own pecs are fuller and fleshier. Their thighs are so well-developed now that neither can wear skinny jeans comfortably. Their arms look big and powerful. Overall, Camellia is still leaner and slighter of frame than her daughter, but this is the biggest she's ever been in terms of muscle mass.

Dahlia frowns. Something in her mother's gaze is off. "What's wrong, Mom?"

"I don't know if I can beat her," Camellia says softly.

"Of course you can!"

But Camellia shakes her head slowly. "I've been outmuscled by Sheila every single time, in every way. She's... just so big. And strong."

"It's only been a few times so far," Dahlia protests weakly. She takes her mother's hands in her own, squeezing tight. "You can beat her. Especially if I'm there for you. I know you can do pull through. You can win, like you helped me win," she says fiercely.

Camellia strokes her daughter's cheek lovingly. "I'm so proud of you for winning your duel," she says fondly. "You were magnificent. But I really don't know if I can do it too. And... honey..." She gives a small sigh. "I'm 52 this year. I think this is my physical peak. This is as strong and fit as I can get."

"You're always going to be strong and sexy."

"I know you'll always think so, honey. And I'm proud of where I've gotten, with your help."

Their workouts at home now involve Dahlia giving her mother a constant "boost" with hands and mouth. Dumbbell shoulder presses, for example, are done with Camellia sitting atop Dahlia's face with dumbbells in hand. Spotting Camellia for squats, to Dahlia, means rubbing her mother's clit and nipples from behind, giving her the strength to always eke out something extra. Training each other like this has allowed them to achieve tremendous progress.

"I'm proud, don't think I'm not," Camellia says. "But this is my limit. I can feel it in my bones. It's all downhill from here. If I don't win against Sheila this time... I think I may never beat her. And that'll be it. She'll always be the better, stronger woman."

"Never."

"It's the truth," Camellia says gently.

"Never!" Dahlia kisses her mother fiercely, tearing up as she does so. When she breaks off she says in a small voice, "Maybe she'll win. But she'll never be better than you."

"Stronger, then."

"We'll see. I believe in you, Mom. You can win." You have to win, Dahlia thinks to herself as they embrace and start kissing a bit more sensually...

The Kwans and the Steeles meet at the cafe, exchange curt nods, find a table in a quiet corner, and sit. All four of them are attracting covert and not-so-covert looks from passers-by and the other patrons -- four women sitting together in varying combinations of halter tops, muscle tees and spaghetti-strap tank tops, each sporting a physique to put bodybuilders to shame.

"You're looking fit, Camellia," Sheila says, with a small smirk playing about her lips. Her inverted halter top showcases her massive shoulders and arms perfectly. She is the picture of a champion strongwoman competitor, and she knows it, as she sits smugly with folded arms resting casually on the table.

Across from her, Camellia coolly replies, "You look fit as well, Sheila." She meets Sheila's gaze steadily.

Beside them, Dahlia and Sylvia can barely conceal their mutual animosity, glaring at each other and clenching fists visibly. "You know I was the real winner," Sylvia mutters.

"Winners don't get KOed, last I checked," Dahlia says.

"You were practically dead on your butt. You just didn't know you were already defeated."

"Maybe because I wasn't? I beat you fair and square, Sylvia." Dahlia's eyes narrow. "I was the stronger daughter. And I have the stronger mother."

Sylvia's lips curl. "Well, we're gonna see about that, aren't we, Mom."

"Yes, dear." Sheila leans forward slightly. Camellia doesn't back away. "I still remember our last woman-to-woman match very well, Camellia. I replay it in my mind all the time. So does my daughter. You've given us both many, many good, strong orgasms, Camellia."

Camellia makes no reply to that. Her jaw tightens. Dahlia flushes, but says nothing.

"I think it should become a fine family tradition for us. We should make this regular. You and me, a few times every year. Every season. And each and every time will end the same way... with you bowed down, dominated, subjugated, worshipping my superior muscles, while your girl pays tribute to my superior pussy." Her voice has gone low and husky as she paints this mental image.

"No. I'll have to decline, I'm afraid," Camellia says dryly. "I think we both know it, Sheila. You and I aren't getting any younger. We both probably have just one last duel left in us."

"Maybe you feel that way, but I sure don't," Sheila laughs, leaning back in her chair and stretching her arms behind her. She grins, knowing how she looks as her muscles ripple all over her body. Sylvia gives a small squeal of delight and wriggles in her seat. There is now not a single pair of eyes within a twenty-foot radius not fixated upon their table, even though no one is close enough to hear what they're talking about. "I feel like I could keep doing this forever!"

"Must be the steroids. Don't lie," Dahlia snaps, as Sylvia opens her mouth indignantly. "We know you're on PEDs."

"What gave it away? Our superior physiques?" Sylvia chuckles meanly. "So what if we are? Just means we're stronger and better than you."

"Just means that I beat you even though you cheated."

"You..."

"Hush, dear. Not too loud. And leave it. Don't mind their yapping," Sheila says. She fixes Camellia with a glare, which Camellia returns. "Whether or not we've used steroids, you know that I could always beat you at any physical contest, Camellia. You know it, I know it. There's exactly one time you two beat us two, and that was the tug-of-war which was a total fluke. The grass was slippery on our side, or something, I don't know."

"My daughter clearly beat yours. She outmuscled and outlasted your Sylvia. That's a fact, Sheila, and denying it just makes you look weak. And childish."

Now anger flashed clearly in Sheila's eyes. She leaned forward again, so that her breath could be felt against Camellia's face. "What-fucking-ever. My girl will trounce yours in the rematch. Now we're talking about you and me, Camellia. I've been waiting to go again with you. And I'm glad, Camellia, sweetie. I'm glad to see you looking so buff, packing more muscle than you've ever packed. I'm still bigger and better than you. I'm still going to dominate you, and whoop your ass in front of your darling daughter. And this time... let's raise the stakes. My girl and I recently got one of those double-ended strap-on harnesses, you know? When you wear it, one end goes into your pussy. Winner uses that on loser. Winner fucks loser to her heart's content. Deal, Camellia?"

Tight-lipped, Camellia gives a single, firm nod.

Sheila breaks out into a broad smile. "Good. I'm gonna be fucking you every holiday, you better believe it."

"No. Just once. This rematch is our last. Once and for all. We'll see who's the better woman."

"Once and... you really are serious, aren't you."

"You know I always am."

Sheila looks disappointed. Then she glances over at Dahlia, who cannot help gnawing her lip anxiously, and brightens up. "All right then. Once and for all. Guess your libido's peaked. And besides... we have our girls to keep going on our behalf. The next generation, right, sweetie?" she says, addressing Dahlia. "Sylvia will love pounding your pussy on the holidays."

"You mean the other way around, Aunty," Dahlia replies sweetly. "And I'll make sure I let you lick her juices off the strap-on after I'm done with her."

The Steeles glare in wide-eyed shock at Dahlia's audacity, and even Camellia gasps a little.

Then Sylvia starts chuckling in disbelief, and Sheila starts smiling as well. "Didn't know you had it in you. We're gonna have so much fun, Dahlia honey. So much fun!" Sylvia laughs breathlessly.

"If you're serious about not doing this anymore, Camellia, that's a real pity," Sheila says ruefully. "I like what we have. But at least your daughter's got more spirit than you. This will be good, this thing we have going on. This will be really good."

Camellia is outwardly calm but inwardly still reeling a bit from what her daughter just said. This is her daughter's choice -- to become thoroughly embroiled in this strange family fitness feud that came out of nowhere -- and she will always support Dahlia fully, but... Oh honey, she thinks, do you know what you're really in for?

"So, it's settled then. You and I, one last time. Whoever wins is..."

"... the stronger, better mother," Sheila finishes for her. "And we seal it with a good doggy-style, plus whatever else Sylvia and I can think of."

"Dahlia and I will think of things for you two as well. What are the terms?"

Sheila smiles. "You're gonna love this..."

How will Sheila Steele and Camellia Kwan battle? How will they compete in their final duel?

[krispin]

Fantastic start. I especially love Cammelia. Her fears and insecurity. Although strong she knows she is the weakest. Her physique is muscular but thin and not strong enough to counter the other much larger mother. I think Cammelia would like to avoid another fight because of the fear of being defeated, dominated and humiliated in front of her daughter again. But she will have to fight. It is inevitable. Then since I love thinner and weaker women I hope she will be overpowered by her rival this time too.

[katietay]

Well actually Camellia has beefed up quite a bit :p

[Austin315]

Hey there! It's been a while. SO glad to see you back and writing. Hope all is well and look forward to what comes next!

[katietay]

"It's simple," Sheila says. "We fight... until one of us submits, or can't go on."

"Fight...?"

"Yes. We fight. Punches, kicks, all strikes allowed. Wrestling holds, of course. Like MMA."

Camellia swallows. Her throat is suddenly dry. She can sense her daughter radiating consternation beside her. Sylvia is now openly smirking, unable to contain her glee at this bombshell dropped by her mother.

To fight Sheila like that... woman to woman... with fists and knees, punches and kicks... choke holds, elbows...

To finally, finally take out her anger and frustration on this big bully of a woman who had been causing her and Dahlia so much grief...

In a contest of pure muscular strength, she knows she has no chance. Even with Dahlia stimulating her, giving her strength by bringing her to orgasm, she cannot outmuscle Sheila, especially if Sheila also has Sylvia doing the same for her. Part of her has been resigned to this fact, and mentally preparing for a complete, one-sided domination in a wrestling match, feeling her muscles lose against Sheila's until she can no longer continue. But in a fight... even though she has never done MMA or kickboxing or anything similar in her life... a lucky or well-placed strike could turn the tide in her favor, turn things around in the blink of an eye. In theory, anyway.

Her heart is thudding. She knows she will accept. She opens her mouth.

"No!"

Dahlia practically shouts her refusal. Her eyes are wide, and she is slowly shaking her head from side to side. "No," she says, in a more hushed voice, but no less urgently. "This is crazy. It's unfair. We haven't been training for combat at all. And that's dangerous, anyway! We would need a referee..."

"Oh, no problem. We have a venue, we have a referee... and we'll likely have an audience," Sheila laughs. "I'll tell you the details in a bit. Don't worry, Dahlia dear... I'll be honest, Sylvia and I haven't been training for fighting either."

"Not much, anyway," Sylvia puts in, still grinning. "Just a bit of playful sparring now and then. You know how it is... just to see each other's muscles work a bit differently than usual..."

"But this is how we should do it, Camellia. For our last duel, woman to woman... mother to mother..." Sheila leans in. "Everything we've got. Strength, speed, skill, stamina. And spirit. This is how we see who the better woman is. Whose muscles are better. Who's got more willpower. Who's stronger and sexier."

"A public match...?" Dahlia says, sounding uncertain.

"Private. Only a small audience. Women we know. And the referee's a friend of ours. Don't worry though, she'll be fair," Sheila chuckles. "We fight, in the nude. Just body against body. And... let's schedule it three months from now. So we've both got plenty of time to prepare. Our daughters will be in our corners, but we fight just one continuous round, no breaks in between. No interference from our girls, either. The loser gets taken by the winner, right there in the middle of the mat. And the winner's daughter, of course."

"And the loser's daughter will just watch, and wait her turn," Sylvia says nastily. "Or you can join in if you like, Dahlia, and get taken alongside your mom."

"Well?" Sheila suddenly demands. "What do you say, Camellia? Are you woman enough to accept my challenge? Because if you don't... then you should just bend over, right now, and take it from me, from behind," she finishes triumphantly.

"Yeah, what's your mom made of, Dahlia?" Sylvia sneers. "Is she too chicken for this?"

Beneath the table, Camellia's and Dahlia's hands find each other, and grip tightly. They turn to look into each other's eyes.

Camellia knows Dahlia was just concerned for her health and physical safety, but still... the "No!" still resounds in her mind. Does her daughter have so little confidence in her...?

She sees Dahlia's jaw working... and then Dahlia's face settles into an expression of grim resolve. She nods once, firmly. Camellia nods back.

Then she turns to meet Sheila's eyes. Sheila is flushed with excitement, as is Sylvia. Camellia feels a bit of a rush as well as she says, "We accept."

A fighting chance, she thinks. I have a fighting chance...

[katietay]

Camellia is bathed in sweat. Her breath comes in short, ragged gasps. It is all she can do to keep her arms up and her fists bunched.

Dahlia stands in front of her, holding up a pair of focus pads. Her naked body is covered with a glistening sheen of sweat. They have been training together for an hour.

"C'mon Mom! One more!" she urges.

Camellia gathers her strength and slams yet another combo into the pads -- left jab, left jab, right cross, left uppercut, right overhand. By the time she gets to the uppercut, her punch lands with minimal force. The last overhand sends her staggering forward, almost blind from the sweat dripping into her eyes.

Her daughter catches her, and she slumps against Dahlia's strong, sturdy body, panting and wheezing with exhaustion. "Ahh... haaa... haa..."

Affectionately, Dahlia licks and kisses the beads of perspiration on her mother's eyelids, allowing Camellia to open her eyes again. Camellia glances at the timer on the laptop screen they've set up.

"Four minutes and a bit," Dahlia notes. "It's an improvement, Mom."

She is trying to sound encouraging, Camellia knows, but she quietly swallows her disappointment and anxiety. Her heart thumps painfully in her rib cage. Four minutes of continuous footwork, plus punching and kicking... her muscles ache all over, especially her shoulders. This is the best she can do, with her cardiovascular fitness. Just four minutes...

The latest video sent over by the Steeles shows Sheila and Sylvia training together (also in the nude, as always), with Sheila lasting nearly seven minutes, sending a barrage of punches, kicks and knee strikes into Sylvia's focus pads. It is intimidating to see someone as bulky as Sheila move so quickly, and striking with manifest power. Camellia knows she has to step up her game, and her Dahlia is always there for her, every step of the way... but this may very well be the best she can do. Four minutes, to Sheila's seven...

Another video shows Sheila grappling on the mat with a fairly large man, of comparable size and build. Three minutes of sweaty wrestling, replete with grunting and gasping, ends with the man trapped in a rear-naked choke and frantically tapping out, though there were moments when it seemed Sheila might be pinned and forced to submit. That video ends with Sheila standing triumphantly, one foot on the conquered man, while Sylvia proudly raises her mother's arm in victory.

Camellia and Dahlia haven't found a male opponent for her, nor do they intend to. In her heart of hearts, Camellia knows it is unlikely that she can match Sheila's display of physical prowess.

And finally, a video was sent last week showcasing Sheila's raw strength: deadlifting 500lbs -- which, for someone not a competitive powerlifter, and at her age and body weight, is extremely impressive. Sheila's entire body ripples with strength and sexiness in that video as she stands holding the weight for 3 full seconds while Sylvia, off-camera, screams with excitement.

Camellia currently maxes out at 320lbs and can barely hold the weight at the top for a full second before having to let go.

Fighting skill, endurance, raw muscular strength... Camellia is no match for Sheila in any aspect. As she stands plastered against her daughter's bare front, her body weight being held up almost entirely by Dahlia, Camellia begins to feel tears burning in the corners of her eyes.

Is this it for Camellia? Has she reached her limit? Is this as far as she can go?

What will Dahlia think, as she watches her mother face a superior opponent she simply cannot defeat? How will Dahlia feel, as she watches her mother take the punishment of the loser? And in front of an audience, no less?

She can't win. But she has to win. She can't let her daughter feel the shame of her defeat.

But she knows she can't win.

But she has to win.

[ColombianCouple]

She will bend iver and take it from behind, as it was said, after her loss

[krispin]

Fantastic build up. I can't wait.

[katietay]

Hilda Eberhardt, the owner of the private basement gym where the Steeles and Kwans have been duelling, has never been around for their private family fights, but for this one she has finally surfaced and insists on a small invited audience: only about a dozen or so of her most loyal gym members over the years, all big strong women themselves. The Steeles have memberships; the Kwans do not.

So Hilda has asked to meet Camellia and Dahlia in person, to get to know them. "After all, it's not a small thing you're going to do, and we need to at least be reasonably familiar with each other first before this match," says her message to Camellia. "We would all feel more comfortable that way, don't you agree?"

They meet with her inside the gym itself, on the ground level -- above the basement where their duels have been taking place. She is a well-built muscular woman, and looks every inch as strong and powerful as her name suggests. In fact, Dahlia privately thinks that she might be a match for Sheila. Perhaps even more -- she's tall, maybe an inch taller than Sheila or Camellia.

"Will you have any objections to me being the referee for your match?" she asks. It turns out she was the "friend" Sheila mentioned. She seems open and honest, though, unlikely to be a biased referee.

Camellia calmly shakes her head. "I have no objections," she says softly. Dahlia takes her mother's hand and gives it a fond squeeze. Camellia squeezes back.

"They have made friends here in my gym," Hilda informs them. "The audience will be mostly those women. Some of them have daughters as well, and may be bringing them along. I said no to husbands, though."

"Understood," Camellia says gratefully. "I'm still not fully comfortable about fighting Sheila in front of an audience, though... but I'll cope."

"I do have a purse for you both," Hilda offers. "I can treat you as performers. 800 for the winner, 300 for the loser."

"Thanks, but that's not important to us," Camellia politely declines. "I don't think Sheila and I are motivated by the money, to be perfectly honest."

"Oh, I know you are, but considering how I am collecting money from the spectators... it's only fair, ya?" A hint of her German accent appears briefly. "Don't worry about it. It is there for you after the match. I will make sure of it."

"Then... thank you. And we are counting on you to be a fair and impartial referee." Camellia inclines her head slightly. Dahlia nods in agreement.

"Don't worry on that score. Sheila and I are not that good of friends," Hilda laughs. "She is a paying member, she and her daughter, but honestly, sometimes I feel like telling them to cool down, knock it off, you know? They get rowdy and noisy in the gym, you know? Banging weights for no good reason, slamming things around and making noise, thinking they are being impressive. I think most people think they're obnoxious, but they have their clique, other women who are impressed by how strong and muscular they are. Sylvia's a bit like a gang leader with a few of the younger ones. I will be fair, not to worry yourselves, ya?"

They talk over the terms of the fight. Hilda will be allowing them to pound and beat each other, since that is the nature of the fight. "But no scratching, clawing, hair-pulling, eye-gouging, striking of genitals or nipples. Nothing that will cause such serious or permanent injury. Bruises, strained joints and muscles, that is what I will allow. Sheila knows this."

And of course, no interference allowed at all from the two girls. "You can watch, you can cheer, but you cannot touch either woman."

They make some more small talk. Then, before the Kwans leave, Hilda says, "Camellia... I want to satisfy my curiosity on one point. Will you indulge me, please?"

"What is it?"

Instead of answering, Hilda turns and walks to the free weights area, beckoning for them to follow. Hand in hand, the Kwans do so.

Hilda goes down on one knee beside a bench, strips off her t-shirt -- bare-chested underneath -- and puts up an arm in challenge. "Let me feel for myself how strong you are, Camellia. I've arm wrestled with Sheila and her daughter quite a few times recently, and I know Sheila's strength. Let me feel yours."

Wordlessly, Camellia takes up position opposite Hilda, and strips off her sports bra to go topless as well. Dahlia crouches beside her, not touching, but gazing lovingly and adoringly at her mother's upper body muscles.

It is such a feat of athleticism, Dahlia thinks, for her mother to have put on so much thick muscle mass in such a relatively short time, at her age. Mom should be celebrated as the strongest, sexiest mother alive, she thinks, and a role model for women everywhere. It would be so, so wrong for Camellia to be humiliated by someone like Sheila. So wrong. Her fingers curl at the thought.

But she sees how large and well-muscled Hilda is, and her breath catches slightly in her chest. She puts out a hand and rests it on her mother's left shoulder. "Come on, Mom, show her what you've got."

Hilda and Camellia lock hands, nod at each other, and begin their test of arm strength. They slowly ramp up the intensity for about a full minute, until Camellia's muscles are fully flexed and her arm is trembling.

But Hilda is clearly putting out only a fraction of her power. She begins pulling Camellia down. There is very little Camellia can do to arrest or slow her dominant progress. Despite Dahlia's urging and encouragement, within another minute Hilda has Camellia's arm down almost all the way. Then she appears to wait, arm flexed but without much visible strain, while Camellia strives in vain to mount a comeback, until the veins on Camellia's arm are standing out.

Some more long moments, and then Hilda gives a little grunt as she presses Camellia's hand down fully. Camellia slumps with a defeated sigh.

Hilda gets up and doesn't say anything as she puts her shirt back on. Dahlia puts her arms around her mother for a comforting hug, but her heart is sinking.

"Good luck," Hilda says, as they leave the gym with friendly waves all around.

Did she maybe mentally add you'll need it at the end? Both Dahlia and Camellia cannot help thinking so.

What if Hilda found Sheila to be much tougher as an opponent? What if Sheila could even beat Hilda sometimes? Thinking back to Hilda's level of muscle, Dahlia finds it not unlikely.

"Hilda is incredibly strong," Camellia says suddenly. Her eyes are downcast as they walk along together. "I've never felt anyone's arm so overwhelmingly strong. Not even Sheila's, at least, not the last time we locked up. There are much stronger women than me out there, my love," she says, looking up at her daughter with a rueful smile.

Dahlia squeezes her mom's hand tightly. "There's no one sexier. And I believe in you. You can do it, for us. You can win this, Mom. I know you can."

Camellia does not reply. She can sense her daughter's fear and uncertainty. It does not need to be mentioned -- they know each other's hearts.

For the sake of her daughter... so that she can see Dahlia's joyful smile instead of her anguished tears... Camellia will push herself to her very limits, and perhaps beyond. Will it be enough?

[ColombianCouple]

Wow...now a strong German Woman appears... will we see two humiliated moms at the end???

[katietay]

The lights are bright in the basement. This means every vein, every muscle striation, every bead of sweat can be seen clearly by everyone present.

Dahlia glances at the audience again. It is a small handful of women, gym regulars as Hilda said earlier. They sit together in a group on rows of chairs placed beside the wrestling mat, eight of them in all -- six of them somewhat older, and two who seem to be around Dahlia's age. They converse with each other in low voices, casting appraising glances at both Camellia and Dahlia.

Instead of using the boxing ring, they have decided to hold the match on the mat instead. More up close and personal, just the way the audience wants it. Dahlia shivers slightly; she can sense the simmering bloodlust behind some of those eyes. Surely Hilda won't let this get too violent...? She wants to see her mother prove herself as the stronger, tougher woman. She can just about bear to watch her mother enduring a painful wrestling hold. She doesn't want to see Camellia get too badly hurt.

She and Camellia are both naked -- she stripped down in solidarity, as a symbolic gesture that they are a team, and in this together. Her nipples are stiff with tension, and her goosebumps rise all over her bare upper torso. She puts an arm around her mother's waist, and feels Camellia's slight trembling. Her mother is just as nervous as she is.

Across the mat from them stand their rivals. Sylvia is wearing just a pair of tight denim cut-offs -- she had been wearing a halter-top bra, but upon seeing Dahlia strip naked she'd decided to take her top off. At the moment, Sheila is flexing and posing proudly, drawing some admiring comments from a few of the spectators, and Sylvia is fondy rubbing and caressing her mother's muscles all over, while casting glances their way -- probably gauging their emotional state.

"How are you feeling, Mom?" Dahlia whispers into her mother's ear, while nuzzling her neck.

"My heart is pounding," Camellia whispers back. "My hands feel cold. My legs feel soft and weak. Dahlia... darling... what if..."

Camellia's composure is legendary, and it pains Dahlia so much to see it cracking now. Even her strong Muscle Mom has moments of weakness. Camellia needs her Dahlia's strength joined to hers, now more than ever. She takes her mother's hands and stands close, face to face, chest to chest.

"I'll be cheering for you every moment. I know you have what it takes to win, to beat her. I'm in your corner forever, Mom. I love you forever. No matter what happens, we'll face it together. You're my strong, powerful Muscle Mom. We can do it. Together."

"Together. We're strong together," Camellia murmurs, as their lips brush. They start kissing.

"Strong together," Dahlia moans as their kissing grows more passionate.

Meanwhile, Sylvia has one hand firmly against her mother's crotch and is rubbing away as Sheila stands in a powerful double-biceps stance. Sheila's lips are parted as her daughter gives her this last boost before the match begins. She is gazing over at Camellia and Dahlia with slightly glazed eyes. Sylvia's voice carries over. "Crush them, Mom. Dominate them. You're the best. You're so much better. You'll crush her and make her beg, while Dahlia watches and cries."

"And after I make her submit..." Sheila says, sounding a little breathless, "Dahlia is yours, honey, to play with."

"I can't wait," Sylvia chuckles, her hand working away wetly at her mother's pussy.

As Camellia and Dahlia embrace, Dahlia slides one thigh in between her mother's legs. In response, Camellia squeezes firmly. Dahlia can feel her mother's wetness on her own skin. Camellia is already as aroused as she can be without Dahlia trying to bring her straight to orgasm. This will have to suffice. In just a few moments, when Hilda gives the signal, Camellia will have to detach herself from her source of strength and step out into the middle of the mat to face Sheila. She will be on her own.

"All right, fighters to the center," Hilda calls out. She is wearing a white collared vest and a black pair of training shorts, the closest thing she has to a referee outfit. She gestures at both women.

Sheila and Camellia both walk towards each other slowly, until they stand a couple of feet apart, locking gazes. The battle of wills has already begun. They are barely listening as Hilda briefly goes over the basic rules of their fight. For Camellia, the world reduces to just her and her nemesis. Sheila's body looks like it is covered with chunks of hard muscle, large and full. Her skin glistens, setting off her muscle tone. There is not a single chink Camellia can see in Sheila's armor.

"This will be a bloodbath," one of the spectators comments gleefully. "Look at the weight class difference."

"Don't write her off just yet, she looks like she can wrestle," another remarks.

"You mean she can take a beating," yet another laughs, one of the younger ones with an auburn ponytail. "If what Sylvia has been saying is true, we're in for a real treat, seeing this Camellia take all the punishment Sheila can dish out."

Listening to all this while standing in their corner, Dahlia feels her cheeks burn. How dare they talk about her beloved mother like this? Her brave, beautiful mother. Prove them wrong! Show them how strong you are! Dahlia rages silently inside.

"This is it, Camellia," Sheila says, as Hilda prepares to start them off. "Our final battle. I won't make this quick, Camellia. I'll draw this out. I'll make it crystal clear to everyone, I'm the stronger and better woman."

Camellia doesn't say anything. Trash talk has never been in her nature. She will let her muscles speak for her, as powerfully as they can. She raises her arms in a guard position, adopting a posture of readiness.

Hilda's hand chops down, and Sheila makes her first move...

[Austin315]

Here we go! The buildup had been amazing Katie. Cant wait for this epic showdown between these two women! This has been long time coming! Glad to see you back!

[User1]

Wow...now a strong German Woman appears... will we see two humiliated moms at the end???

If Hilda interferes against Sheila and Sheila can bring her gym gang against her maybe we even have the Kwans and Hilda humilated...

[katietay]

Okay, I need to do a retcon of this  I've thought about it some more and the story can go differently. I don't really want to introduce the character of Hilda into the mix after all -- I have no role for her to play!

So... no Hilda Eberhardt. And, add this to the cafe conversation.


They talk some more, over the terms of the fight. The venue is different: it will be at the home of the Steeles, their spacious basement gym with a wrestling mat. And... there will be an audience. A small group of other gym-goers, some of them with daughters of their own, friends of Sheila and Sylvia. Camellia and Dahlia don't do much socializing at the gym, so they don't have any friends of their own to bring along as spectators. Or supporters.

In other words... the Steeles will have home ground advantage. The Kwans will be on their turf.

And there is one more question to resolve...

"A fight like this needs a referee," Dahlia insists. "We need rules. It can't be anything goes, or no holds barred."

"Agreed," Sylvia instantly replies, to Dahlia's surprise. "It needs to be fair. And the referee has to make sure it doesn't go too far. If one woman can't continue, she loses."

"Right. So who do we have? One of your friends?" Dahlia says skeptically.

"Even better." Sylvia looks her rival dead in the eye. "It'll have to be one of us."

"One of...!"

Sheila is beaming from ear to ear. Camellia's eyes widen, but she says nothing.

"Here's what we'll do, Dahlia. Before the match, before our moms battle... you and me, we'll arm wrestle. Just us! No fingering, no orgasms. Just pure strength, my muscle against yours, arm against arm." Sylvia's voice has gone low and husky. "The stronger daughter deserves to be the referee for the match."

Dahlia tries not to let her apprehension show. "Yes. Agreed." Inwardly, she thinks to herself, I needed two orgasms the other time, to beat those massive muscles of hers. Can I do it this time, without Mom's help...?

"And the loser," Sylvia crows gleefully, "should be chained up during the fight, like a slave! To make sure there's no interference!"

They argue over this for a bit... but eventually, the Kwans accept these terms. They have little choice -- they can't back down from this challenge. The losing daughter will watch the match on her knees, with her hands cuffed and chained behind her back and to her ankles. An emotional and psychological blow to the loser's mother, while the winner's mother will have the comfort of knowing her daughter is refereeing the fight.

The Steeles react disdainfully to the idea that they'll cheat to gain an unfair advantage. "As if I'll need to cheat to beat you, Camellia!" Sheila snorts.

"I just want to be all up in your face, Camellia, as you submit to my stronger mom," Sylvia declares spitefully. "And then I get to have my way with you while you're all helpless, Dahlia!"

Later that night, as they cuddle in bed, Dahlia props herself up on her side and flexes her right arm as powerfully as she can.

"I'm not going to lose to her, Mom," she says, her voice thick with emotion. Her muscles bulge powerfully. "I'm going to make my arm stronger than it has ever been. When you face Sheila, Mom, I'm going to be right there by your side. I'll keep her in line. I'll be right beside you when we hear Sheila submit, and admit you're better than her."

Camellia gives her daughter's biceps a loving squeeze. "So firm... so hard..." she murmurs fondly.

"Strong for you, Mom. You gave this to me. I'm going to use it for you."

So cheesy, so corny. But this is how intimate they have always been. And Camellia knows her daughter means every word, with all her heart. "You can do it," she says, with utter conviction. "You are stronger than Sylvia. They're all going to see it. And they'll have to accept it, once and for all, once they see you put her arm down."

"And you're stronger than Sheila."

For you, I will be, Camellia thinks as she reaches up and pulls her daughter's face down to her own. I have to be.

[katietay]

The lights are bright in the basement. This means every vein, every muscle striation, every bead of sweat can be seen clearly by everyone present.

Dahlia glances at the audience again. It is a small handful of women, all friends of either Sheila or Sylvia. They sit in a circle of chairs placed around the wrestling mat, eight of them in all -- six of them somewhat older, and two who seem to be around Dahlia's age, apparently two other mother-daughter pairs. They converse with each other in low voices, casting appraising glances at both Camellia and Dahlia.

This is up close and personal, just the way the audience wants it. Dahlia shivers slightly; she can sense the simmering bloodlust behind some of those eyes. She can't let this get too violent; she wants to see her mother prove herself as the stronger, tougher woman. She can just about bear to watch her mother enduring a painful wrestling hold. She doesn't want to see Camellia get too badly hurt by punches and kicks. But if she is to have any say in things at all... she has to win her arm wrestling match first.

Camellia is naked and ready. Dahlia is wearing only a pair of tight boy shorts -- since she and Sylvia won't be wrestling they've agreed that the two of them don't need to be fully naked, unless they want to be. Her nipples are stiff with tension, and her goosebumps rise all over her bare upper torso. She puts an arm around her mother's waist, and feels Camellia's slight trembling. Her mother is just as nervous as she is.

Across the mat from them stand their rivals. At the moment, Sheila is flexing and posing proudly, drawing some admiring comments from their friends, and Sylvia is fondy rubbing and caressing her mother's muscles all over, while casting glances their way -- probably gauging their emotional state.

"How are you feeling, Mom?" Dahlia whispers into her mother's ear, while nuzzling her neck.

"My heart is pounding," Camellia whispers back. "My hands feel cold. My legs feel soft and weak. Dahlia... darling... what if..."

Camellia's composure is legendary, and it pains Dahlia so much to see it cracking now. Even her strong Muscle Mom has moments of weakness. Camellia needs her Dahlia's strength joined to hers, now more than ever. She takes her mother's hands and stands close, face to face, chest to chest.

"I'll be cheering for you every moment. I know you have what it takes to win, to beat her. I'm in your corner forever, Mom. I love you forever. No matter what happens, we'll face it together. You're my strong, powerful Muscle Mom. We can do it. Together."

"Together. We're strong together," Camellia murmurs, as their lips brush. They start kissing.

"Strong together," Dahlia moans as their kissing grows more passionate.

Meanwhile, Sylvia has one hand firmly against her mother's crotch and is rubbing away as Sheila stands in a powerful double-biceps stance. Sheila's lips are parted as her daughter gives her this last boost before the arm wrestling to determine who the referee will be. She is gazing over at Camellia and Dahlia with slightly glazed eyes. Sylvia's voice carries over. "Crush them, Mom. Dominate them. You're the best. You're so much better. You'll crush her and make her beg, while Dahlia watches and cries."

"And after I make her submit..." Sheila says, sounding a little breathless, "Dahlia is yours, honey, to play with." They can be heard from across the mat -- the room is not that large, about the size of a dance studio.

"I can't wait," Sylvia chuckles, her hand working away wetly at her mother's pussy.

As Camellia and Dahlia embrace, Camellia slides one hand beneath her daughter's boy shorts and begins rubbing her slit, spreading the moistness over her fingertips and pressing on Dahlia's clitoris. Dahlia grunts softly with pleasure. She raises her right arm and flexes it, to warm up her muscles. Sheila and Sylvia have begun doing likewise.

"She's got quite an arm on her," one of the older women remarks, strawberry blonde with wavy hair and a lush figure. She is gently rubbing herself while reclining in the chair -- beside her, on the floor, lie several sex toys. They've all brought their own with them, and all are in various states of undress. The woman was referring to Dahlia, while addressing Sheila. "Looks like she could put up quite the fight against your girl."

"I'll crush her in seconds," Sylvia responds, her muscles rippling powerfully as she flexes her arm.

"Yeah, I believe it," one of the younger girls pipes up -- Dahlia's seen her before on the college grounds, but never with Sylvia. Korean, with long dark hair framing a pale face, and a stocky physique like a weightlifter or wrestler. "She's got good muscle tone, but she doesn't have the mass or weight."

The others nod sagely. "This isn't a professional arm wrestling match," another chuckles. "This is just a straight out muscle tussle. I'm gonna have to give this one to Sylvia." A chorus of agreement.

Dahlia feels her face flush with displeasure. Quite apart from being talked about as if she weren't there, she hates that they are all figuring the odds this way. She forces herself to breathe deeply and slowly, allowing the pleasure that her mother is giving her to radiate throughout her body and into her muscles. She has to prove them wrong now. She has to!

Presently, Sylvia rises to her feet, flushed a splotchy red all the way down to her nipples. The veins on her muscles are standing out. Sheila gives her one more slap on the butt to send her out to the middle of the mat.

Dahlia also rises, and Camellia reluctantly takes her hand out of Dahlia's shorts. Dahlia is dripping wet and throbbing, at a very high plateau. This is the best she can do for her daughter. The rest is up to her. Dahlia's muscles are also looking pumped, and her body glistens with a light sheen of sweat. A light hint of veins can be seen at her joints, especially her shoulders and elbows.

They walk slowly to the middle of the mat, still with right arms flexed. The room goes silent. When they are near face to face, they silently lower themselves and go belly-down on the mat, putting their left hands on the small of their back. To make doubly sure that this will be a true test of arm muscle, they have agreed to do the match this way. It will be hard to gain any significant leverage or body weight advantage.

Their arms wrap around each other, elbows close together, forearms pressed together tightly, fingers and thumbs so firmly locked that their hands are already trembling from the strain. Now everyone can see that Sylvia's arm is indeed the larger and more defined, overall the more impressive for sure, with clear evidence of steroid use... but Dahlia's arm looks extremely strong. Privately, the watchers begin to doubt their earlier assessment.

But outwardly, they begin clapping and cheering for their chosen champion, Sylvia Steele. "Let's go, Sylvia!" "Crush her like you said!" "Slam her down!" "Make her run back crying to her momma!"

Sylvia fixes her rival with a steely gaze. Dahlia stares back steadily, not giving an inch.

Their muscles bulge harder and harder. They have already begun.

And quietly, while every single pair of eyes in the room is fixed on the two perfectly muscled arms locked in womanly struggle, one of the women discreetly thumbs a remote control behind her back, and something hums into life...