They didn’t break apart.
Nipples pressed tight. Breasts mashed together. Breath feathered across damp skin.
Then, in a heartbeat, it exploded.
Tracy surged forward, hands driving into Priya’s thick black hair, yanking her head violently to the side. Priya gasped, staggered—but her own hands came up just as fast, grabbing twin handfuls of Tracy’s ponytail and dragging her forward.
They twisted, locked, and stumbled in a slow, heavy spin, snarling and growling, both grunting from the strain as their powerful bodies collided and strained for dominance. Feet scraped across the padded mat, hips slamming together, their thighs grinding with brutal pressure.
Then Priya dipped suddenly and drove her shoulder into Tracy’s belly, lifting with every ounce of leverage she had.
Tracy let out a sharp breath—but dug her heels in, widened her stance, and wouldn’t budge.
“Too heavy for you, bitch?” Tracy hissed into her ear. “Get used to it.”
But Priya twisted instead of lifting, and both women collapsed in a heap to the mat—legs tangled, bodies slick with early sweat. They grappled frantically, thick arms struggling to lock, breasts slapping against each other, snarling as they fought for position.
Priya ended up on top—barely—but Tracy coiled her legs around her waist in a tight body scissors, locking her ankles under Priya’s belly and squeezing.
Priya’s face twisted in pain as her gut compressed between Tracy’s strong thighs. She reached up and slammed a fist into Tracy’s ribs—once, twice.
Tracy grunted but didn’t let go. She reached up instead and grabbed Priya’s heavy breasts, digging her fingers deep into the soft flesh and twisting cruelly.
“Fuck—!” Priya spat, fury in her eyes.
Her hands came up fast—fingers clawing into Tracy’s own chest, nails raking across her sweat-slicked 36Cs. Tracy screamed and retaliated, both women now clawing and mauling each other’s breasts, still locked in a grinding embrace of muscle and hate.
Priya finally shifted her weight and rolled to the side—dragging Tracy with her—but it broke the scissors.
They separated, only for a second, both panting, flushed, hands instinctively checking their stinging, red breasts.
“You wanna play dirty?” Priya sneered. “I’ll take your tits off before I’m done with you.”
“You can try,” Tracy shot back, circling low. “But I’ve got stronger hands, and your flabby udders are mine.”
They clashed again—Tracy going high, grabbing hair, while Priya ducked and rammed a short fist into Tracy’s belly, right above the waistband of her thong.
THUD.
Tracy groaned, folding—but not before grabbing a fistful of Priya’s thong and yanking it hard upward.
Priya howled—her pussy crushed painfully by the sudden upward jerk—and staggered backward, hand dropping between her legs.
Tracy rushed forward and tackled her down.
They landed hard, Tracy atop Priya in a full mount, and she wasted no time—she pinned Priya’s wrists above her head and shifted her hips forward, grinding down hard. Their pubic bones collided, both women grimacing as they fought for leverage.
Priya bucked, but Tracy leaned in, hissing: “What’s the matter? Not used to fighting someone who hits back?”
Then she slid one hand down, between them—and dug her knuckles hard into the mound of Priya’s pussy.
Priya shrieked, hips jerking. Her thighs slammed into Tracy’s sides, and she twisted violently.
It took three full heaves, but she finally rolled Tracy off, landing beside her.
Both lay gasping—then scrambled to their knees again, glistening with sweat.
They locked up—shoulders and breasts crashing together again in a collar-and-elbow clinch, muscles flexing. Priya twisted Tracy’s arm into a top wristlock, then dropped to one side, dragging Tracy down into a seated hammerlock, her arm pinned viciously behind her back.
Tracy grimaced in pain, her free hand slapping the mat as her shoulder twisted.
“Gonna pop it,” Priya growled in her ear. “Wanna scream for your husband yet?”
“Not till you’re under me, moaning like a slut,” Tracy spat, struggling to roll.
Priya wrapped a thick thigh around Tracy’s waist from behind, adding crushing pressure to the hold.
Tracy grunted again—face twisted in agony—then arched her back and slammed her hips down, over and over, until she could wriggle enough space to slide her trapped arm free.
It wasn’t graceful—but it was brutal, and it worked.
Priya tried to shift—but Tracy elbowed her in the gut and surged up behind her, locking her in a sudden rear body scissor, thighs clamped across Priya’s belly from behind.
Then she reached forward and yanked Priya’s hair back, exposing her throat.
“You like fighting dirty, village girl?” Tracy hissed. “Let’s see how you take it.”
With one hand still yanking hair, she slid the other down again and raked her nails across Priya’s swollen, damp thong, grinding hard into her pussy lips underneath.
Priya screamed again—hands grabbing at Tracy’s thighs, but her strength was fading under the pressure.
Tracy squeezed harder, then slammed a fist into Priya’s kidney.
Another.
Then a third.
Priya collapsed forward, gasping, trying to wriggle free—but the body scissor crushed her with every breath.
She finally twisted and flipped—but instead of escape, it rolled both of them into a chaotic knot.
Sweat smeared their skin, their bodies entwined. They landed side by side, panting.
Tracy struck first, grabbing Priya’s breast and twisting viciously while throwing her leg back over her rival’s hips.
Priya howled—and bit down a sob, then grabbed Tracy’s thong at the crotch and yanked it aside, slamming her fingers directly into her opponent’s bare mound.
Tracy screamed, back arching, arms flailing.
“Say it!” Priya hissed, voice shaking from fury. “Admit I’ve got you!”
Tracy punched blindly, a wild right catching Priya across the gut.
.
Then she rolled, ignoring the pain—blood in her mouth, tears in her eyes—and mounted Priya again, pinning both arms under her knees.
Straddling her chest, she slid her hips forward, sitting fully across Priya’s face.
But Priya twisted her head, refusing the full smother. Her arms kicked and thrashed—but Tracy sat back harder, grabbed two fistfuls of Priya’s tits, and crushed them, pulling upward while she grinded downward.
Tracy didn’t let her up.
With Priya’s arms pinned under her knees, Tracy surged forward and planted her thick thighs across the Indian woman’s face, her full weight bearing down with merciless intent. Priya twisted her head, trying to escape the suffocating seal of thigh and flesh, but Tracy shifted her hips expertly, grinding downward, re-centering herself to stay directly over Priya’s nose and mouth. The smother wasn’t just physical—it was psychological. Every adjustment stole more of Priya’s air, more of her will. Tracy’s thighs flexed and tightened like a vice, locking the Indian woman into place, each second eroding her resistance under a wall of heat, pressure, and power.
“Where’s that village strength now, huh?” Tracy growled, sweat dripping from her chest onto Priya’s stomach. “You’re under me now. Right where you fucking belong.”
Priya bucked. Twisted. Her thick legs thrashed against the mat. But her arms were pinned, and Tracy’s hips locked her in place.
Then Tracy leaned back slightly—just enough to free her hands—and reached down with one, seizing Priya’s right nipple between her thumb and forefinger. She didn’t just grab it—she rolled it, pinched it cruelly, then gave a slow, deliberate twist that forced Priya’s body to jolt beneath her. Tracy’s lips curled in satisfaction as she felt the surge of anguish from the woman trapped under her. The flesh was hot, soft, and vulnerable—exactly where Tracy wanted her focus. She leaned down, letting her breath sweep across Priya’s belly as she gave another merciless tug, watching the agony bloom on her opponent’s face.
She twisted hard.
Priya’s muffled scream vibrated hot against Tracy’s slick mound, her lips trapped under the weight of Tracy’s thick thighs. Her entire face trembled as she thrashed, the sound deep and desperate—a primal, helpless cry that only Tracy could feel. Tracy gave a subtle grind of her hips in response, as if feeding off the vibration, savoring each tortured gasp that spilled into her flesh. "That’s it," she whispered darkly. "Let it out. Let them all hear how I’ve got you."
Tracy grabbed the other one. “Let’s see how these hold up.”
She twisted both nipples—viciously—pulling, grinding, bending the dark, swollen buds as Priya screamed again, her legs slamming the mat in agony.
“You still want this fight?” Tracy hissed, giving another yank. “You still think you can beat me?”
She bent forward, her breasts hanging heavy, her face inches from Priya’s flushed belly. “Or are you ready to beg?”
Priya tried to twist her head free again—but Tracy slammed her hips forward, pinning her flat, and pulled harder on both nipples, cruel and relentless.
“FUCK!” Priya shrieked, her voice muffled by the suffocating weight of Tracy’s thighs, but still raw with agony. “STOP! OH GOD, IT HURTS!” The words broke from her like an eruption, strangled by a lack of air and the sheer intensity of pain. Her nipples, twisted into swollen, burning points of torment, sent white-hot jolts of agony radiating through her core with each fresh yank. Her legs flailed helplessly, muscles spasming as her hips thrashed side to side. Her face twisted under Tracy’s heat, the wet friction of skin-on-skin mixing with her sweat-slick cheeks. “PLEASE, LET GO!” she begged again, the veneer of pride splintering into a thousand fragments, her voice rising with a panic rooted in true fear. "I can't take it—please!" she sobbed, eyes clenched shut as her body trembled from the onslaught.
Tracy didn’t.
“Say it,” she snarled. “Say I’ve got you.”
Priya’s body arched in pain—every nerve firing, sweat pooling beneath her. Her voice was hoarse, but clear this time:
“YOU’VE GOT ME!” she sobbed, the pain finally overriding pride. “I SUBMIT! I SUBMIT!” Her voice cracked on the second surrender, each word dripping with humiliation and desperation as Tracy’s fingers twisted once more for good measure. The brutal, targeted agony in her nipples had become unbearable—sharp, pulsing, hot with shame and raw with submission. She couldn’t fight anymore. She didn’t even try. Her body lay trembling beneath the victorious weight of her conqueror, breathing ragged, spirit broken—for now.
Tracy didn’t let go right away. She pulled once more on the nipples—marking her dominance—before finally releasing them and rising slowly from Priya’s face.
The Indian woman gasped, cheeks soaked, eyes wild and glassy. Her nipples were swollen, dark, and raw.
Tracy stood over her, body heaving, her thong twisted high on her hips, glistening with sweat and arousal.
Jay was frozen. Rajeev stared in stunned silence. No one spoke.
1–0. Tracy.
And the tone for the rest of the war had been brutally set.
