What goes around comes around, bitch!
By romanticjock
This is a work of violent fiction, and while certain elements hold a basis in real life, this never happened like it has been written, but it’s fun to read, eh? Also, I know I take a bit of time to get to the actual fight, but I like a good background to get a real feel for the character’s and how their imagined past actions play into their written development…
I’ve always believe that in life what goes around comes around and you get to reap whatever injustices you suffered eventually. For instance, when I got laid off a few years ago due to some bullshit about “budget cuts” (some middle management BS while I noticed my boss’ paychecks were steadily climbing…), I didn’t get mad at all. Instead, I took the knowledge I gained at that company to invent a communications widget that took the functions of 3 different companies’ components, combined them, and made the whole process faster and more streamlined, easier to install, and then made the whole thing for about half the cost of the lowest current component price. A major telecommunications company saw what I had accomplished, offered me a percentage of the company profits from any growth my widget might bring, and a base grant in the tens of millions of dollars to license it to them exclusively for 2 years, after which I could market it around to the others. The company promptly used it to corner the market in 6G phone and wifi mobility markets, increasing their total company profits by 157%, and making me a very rich, and some would say, powerful man, since I could control whether some of the other companies survived or went broke if I didn’t license it to them. Some I did, some I didn’t, mostly the ones that made the mistake of thinking because of my age (under 30), I was the lackey or secretary to the real power shaker. I had had enough of that shit to last me a lifetime. So to bring the moral full circle, when it came time for me to expand to meet manufacturing demand for all the widgets I was going to sell to the rest of the companies, I chose to go back to the company that laid me off, buy it out, fire everyone above foreman there, and reorganize it as I saw fit. The day I showed up with a bunch of ex-military bodyguards to break the news to my old managers that they were fired was a moment I will treasure for the rest of my life…
In keeping with this, I now had enough money that I could do whatever I wanted or desired. Since I have a catfight/sexfight fetish, I decided to indulge that to a very full extent. I sponsored private matches, videos, tournaments, even had what you might call a stable or harem of fighters for a bit, but that was a bit hard to handle and another story. Eventually, my interest became well known enough in certain circles to be invited into a very exclusive fight club. The location always changed, and could even be on different continents depending on the mood of the members, but everyone attending made a mostly regular occurrence to be there every month. Birds of a feather, I suppose…
The purpose of this club was, ostensibly, to promote different kinds of live fights among the members’ women, or even men, if the situation called for it. There were a few closet lesbians, gays and bisexuals among the elite, and as long as you kept a live and let live policy, everything went fine. And the club went to various lengths to ensure that everything went smoothly, if at least for courtesy’s sake. One of the ways this was achieved was that every sponsor’s identity was supposed to remain hidden by wearing full face masks and using pseudonyms. Oh sure, you could probably figure who each person was by the other physical features, or the partner they were with, as a few of them brought their wives to fight, but it was considered bad form to mention that you knew who was the sponsor under the mask. There were tales of some former members with poor taste mentioning this to other members outside certain circles, or even outsiders, and never being allowed back, or worse, never being heard from again…
So at my initial introduction to the club, and not knowing the proper intro or attire, I arrived dressed to the nines, the only incongruent aspect being the full face blue luchador mask I was wearing. Stepping in and getting to the main floor, I could see that I was actually almost spot-on in my attire. Virtually all the men were wearing some kind of full face mask, and while some of them were slumming it in Hawaiian shirts or silk robes, most were in decent enough clothing that you might find at a normal dinner party. The only difference was the women, they were not required to disguise themselves at all, in fact they were flaunting what they had. Almost all of them were dressed to the nines in some way, with some of the older women wearing fancy ballroom dresses, some of the younger ones wearing clubbing outfits, while majority of the rest were wearing a variation of a fancy black cocktail dress, the only exception being the ones either in the nude or with only body paint on. I saw more than one of those with what looked like an oil sheik in a ski mask.
“Ah, wonderful, I am glad you decided to make it, please come in, I will be your guide for the night,” I heard a voice behind me say. Turning, I found Mr. E, my guide to the club in a full motorcycle helmet with tinted visor and voice modulator. While all the club members were made to at least give lip service to the resemblance of anonymity, Mr. E was really the only one that the other club members I talked to had no clue who really was, and they all liked it that way. The club was Mr. E’s baby, I heard from some of the older members that while he wasn’t a founding member, he definitely made it into the animal it was today, transforming a former swinger’s circle with a penchant for catfights among its members into a suave, sophisticated social group that played host in a number of countries and numbered moguls, politicians, crime bosses, and even royalty among its members. He set up all the gatherings, vetted all the members, and in general arranged everything behind the scenes. Every cabal needed its puppet master, its secret-keeper, and Mr. E was it for this club. It was even rumored that when one gangster member tried to bring a little more of his business into this house of pleasure, Mr. E arranged to have the member quietly unable to make the next gathering. Since then, it had all run exceptionally smoothly, with meetings occurring regularly.
“Glad to finally be here Mr. E, what is on the table for tonight?” I knew the club hosted some special themed public events in the big rooms, along with making available any room or setting possible for reserved fights, some private, some public. One of my sponsoring members fondly remembered a reverse foxy boxing tournament, where the losers kept fighting and losing clothing in the process, and another remembered a dog-collar cage match to settle a family feud. Mr. E smiled.
“Its relatively tame tonight, we have nude muay thai fight between mistresses over who gets new implants, a couple private matches, and a corporate catfight for ascension in the right wing.” Mr. E replied. Hmmm, corporate catfight for ascension? Sounded interesting…
“What are the stakes and background for that corporate catfight? It doesn’t sound like a typical spat between secretaries…” I enquired. Mr. E laughed.
“That’s because it’s not, this is a fight to determine the new vice presidency of a company. A couple of our members are going to merge their companies, and the fight is to see who will get to become the vice president of the company. There are 2 women VPs now for the separate companies, but with both sponsors taking the president and CEO positions, there is only one VP position left, and the club has agreed to let the two vixens fight it out here to determine it,” replied Mr. E.
“Sounds interesting, where is it?” I asked
“Left ballroom, follow me,” Mr. E said, leading me to the correct room. I came into a ballroom set up as if for dancing, judging by the space, chair set up, and the attire of the people in it. I fit into this crowd almost perfectly, as my suit was not too far off from the formal tuxedos most of the guests were wearing. As the final negotiations between sponsors were getting underway, Mr. E kept giving me a play by play of the lead up to this in an undertone. It seemed that this business deal was going to be legally binding, but there was also the conditions of the club to be handled which depended quite a bit on regulating the betting to be settled, and due to the odd nature of this fight, there was a rather steep bet placed by the sponsors for the winner (with a hefty percent going to the house), while the loser got nothing, but could rent out the losing woman afterwards to the spectators to try and recoup some of the cost of the lost bet. The winning woman would become the VP of the new merged company, and the loser would be fucked and demoted to secretary for one or more of the officers of the company. If this was how things got settled at this company, I wouldn’t have wanted to be a secretary in that office on a normal day. I was beginning to warm up to this fight, as it had some real consequences and stakes, with a real prize and motivation, unlike most of typical catspats between secretaries.
As I approached, I could see one of the combatants facing me, a hot little Latina number with curves in all the right places in a tight white bra-less Marilyn Monroe type of dress, stopping about 3 inches above the knee with no back and strips hanging strategically down to cover her boobs, all accessorized with white heels, white stockings, and white opera style gloves. From taking a glance at the other girl’s colors, I gathered that someone wanted to see a variation of Black-and-White fight, with the other outfit mirroring the Latina’s only in black. The Latina’s opponent had her back turned to me, so all I could see was that she had a head of auburn shoulder length hair, was a little skinnier than the Latina, and was also a couple inches taller. Then she turned so I could get a side profile view of her and I let out a little gasp at two things, first that I knew who this other fighter was and second that she had gotten a boob job since then, a very good one.
The woman was an old girlfriend of a good friend of mine. Back when I first started working for those bastards that I ended up firing later, I lived in a small building with a bunch of other people of the same age and point in our careers. One that I eventually became very good friends with was Jay. He lived alone when I first met him but had a gf, Kay. When she graduated from college, she was hurting for money so she moved in with him for a couple of months, looking for a job at the same time I was laid off. We grew pretty close, as Jay had been thru the same thing a few years before and was able to walk us thru the necessary steps. Then one day out of the blue an old fling from college showed up and offered her a job as an officer in the company he was putting together. He already had a client lined up and since the target audience was female, he wanted at least one on his board to show how they understood their customers. Of course Kay said yes, and we were all excited for her, as it was a good opportunity to show what she could do. Well the company caught on like gang-busters, and pretty soon she was literally flying all over the world to do business for it. It didn’t take long for her to get the idea or impression, almost certainly from her ex-fling-now-her-boss, that she was being held back living in a dinky little building with us nobodies and that she could do better “in more exclusive company”. So she moved back in with her old fling and never looked back, while I had to help pick Jay up out of a bottle more times than I could count after that. Luckily, I was able to get him interested in my widget project and he was able to play a big enough part in it that I agreed to partially finance a low budget film he had written the script for, which he was then able to generate enough excitement from the big studios into full-fledged funding and was even now at this moment on location shooting. And Kay, I never really heard from her again, except a few snippets from some mutual friends to say that she had engineered the takeover of the ex-fling’s company and now was working for an even bigger one, possibly the current one.
Looking at Kay now, I could see why Jay had liked her. She had a body and looks similar to Mila Kunis, only hers was more tan with straighter auburn hair though they shared the same color and shape of the eyes. She was very fit, as I remember running with her a few times and getting left in the dust more often than I can count, and her bust had been enhanced a bit since I knew her as about a 34C. Not enough to seem garish or stupid, but enough to enhance her chest enough that I realized it was bigger than when I remembered it. Now her eyes were staring ice daggers at the Latina, who looked like she was preparing herself for the fight by taking verbal various swipes at her.
“When I get done with you chica, you are going to wish you had taken that secretary job in the first place!” she taunted, sauntering back and forth in front of the crowd. Kay just stood there, arms crossed in and glaring back at the Latina, head on a swivel, never taking her eyes off her opponent. The men were mostly clustered around two harried looking guys in accounting clothes, the club bookies, mostly watching in silence and occasionally taking a step back and trying to get one of the two’s attention to try and place a bet. The women were even more vocal, either cheering on their friend of shouting insults at their opponent. Mr. E went over to the bookkeepers to see what the spread was on the fight. I stood back watching the display of aggressiveness with mixed feelings. I knew at least one cat in this fight, so that familiarity should lead me to support her, right? But then I remembered the big mess and the insults she made to both of us in parting, and my bros-before-hoes instinct flared back to life, so that when Mr. E came by to tell me what the odds were, I placed a substantial bet on Kay losing to the Latina.
“Are you sure you want to do that? The Latina is smaller and has a worse record by percentage than the brunette…” he inquired, wanting to appear ever the impartial host. The last part of his comment sparked a thought in my head, and I inquired as to Kay’s fight history. Apparently she was 3-2 while the Latina was 8-7. I then had to ask if either of the two hellcats had ever fought before at the club. “Why yes, the Latina has fought on at least 5 occasions I can remember and the brunette at least 3, although she lost the majority of the fights I had seen”. That brought an inner smile to my face, as high and mighty Kay for all her “exclusive company” talk seemed to be doing worse than us, at least in this arena. Then I remembered what the consequences wager had been for the loser and inquired if there was any way to place a price down to get in on that, a sort of place-holder ticket, if it should come around to ending up that way. Mr. E subtly replied that there just might be, for a small finders’ fee, and I was happy to hand him a couple of notes to make it so. He gave a small laugh and went to go officially record it with the bookkeepers as a bald man in suspenders and a rolled up white shirt got between the two fighters and with a hand motion quieted everyone down.
“Alright, now we all know what we are here for, a catfight between Ms. Inez here and Ms. Kay over here. Since this is going to be over a job position, we will go by business woman’s rules, no hitting or clawing the face beyond the opening formalities, nothing disfiguring or maiming, and we will start off fully clothed in what they have on here. Hair pulling and clothes ripping are allowed, as is most injury in places not visible when wearing business attire. Do not break the rules, as justice will be administered in fight by Dr. Volts here,” the man said, drawing short cattle prod and crackling it wickedly. A few women in the crowd shuddered involuntarily as the man went on. “Each vixen will get one stoppage with a 2 minute rest break. They may call for it at any point and from any position and upon period end will either have to continue or give up. Fighters will start from standing upon resumption and fight will continue until either has had enough and quit or tried to call a rest after using their time out. Alright ladies, come together and let’s get this on.” He said, backing away.
The two fighters sauntered to the center of the floor, looking as if they were going to meet the guy of their dreams in bed. They stopped about arms length from each other, Inez with both hands on hips staring dagger at her opponent and Kay with one with an arm dangling, giving off the sultry/looking bored/apathetic look I remembered so well. They stopped silently for a moment, symbolically both slipping off their opera gloves, then Inez’ hand leapt out and cracked Kay across the cheek. Kay’s head snapped back, bringing her head slowly back to bear on her rival, her own hand snaked out and clacked Inez across the mouth. Inez took it and immediately belted Kay across the other cheek, then Kay retaliated again. They stood silently there, full chests heaving and both sides of their faces reddening, the Latina giving Kay the look of deepest loathing and Kay staring her flat reptilian stare at the smaller girl. Then suddenly the Latina screamed and launched herself at Kay, with Kay reacting in kind a split second later. They hit with a grunt, their rivals’ charge knocking each off their own target, hitting heads simultaneously both still entangled in the other’s body. They both stopped for a second, stunned, then the Latina let out another shriek and grabbed Kay’s hair yanking it back while ripping for her dress. Kay grunted and struggles to retaliate, but when she went instinctively to the other vixen’s face, the ref stepped forward with the cattle prod crackling ominously and she let go before any damage was done.
The Latina was clearly getting the better of Kay here, having almost completely shredded her of her dress and inflicting several large scratches on her now bare hips, stomach and back. As the dress was pulled off, I could see that Kay was wearing a sexy little black garter belt holding up her stockings with a black lace thong to complete the black-on-white themed outfit. As her victim’s dress was torn away, the Latina began looking for other targets to ruin and made a grab for Kay’s garter. As soon as the Latina fastened her hand onto the garter, I don’t know if Kay was waiting for that or was only acting on instinct, but she backed away first to gain some distance, then stepped back in and twisted around, so that she was able to catch the Latina in an arm lock with her opponent’s arm at full extension around her garter. The Latina was caught in an awkward X-cross of the arms, with her left hand still clutching Kay;s hair and her right hanging on for dear life to the garter, leaving the rest of her unprotected. And Kay realized it.
She locked in her arm around the Latina’s throat to complete the immobilization, and then started to go to work with her other hand, tearing and scratching at the Latina’s white dress and fair skin, paying her back for all the damage she had done to Kay. The Latina tried to disengage the hand in Kay’s hair and bring it down to break the lock and get free, but the positioning was too difficult to overcome and it was all she could do to prevent Kay from cutting off all her breathing. After several deep midriff scratches, the Latina cried out in pain, but Kay was right there to cut off most of her further intake of breath once the scream was out of the Latina. A good move, I had to admit, as it was psychologically and physiologically hurtful and controlling at the same time. The Latina’s face started to get dark from lack of proper oxygen, and some of the Latina’s friends tried to get the ref to say Kay;s throatlock was illegal here because it touched the Latina’s head. The ref appeared to consider it, but as an experienced catfight voyeur I knew he was really just buying time and hoping something would happen to move the contest along and he would not have to make a ruling on it. As luck would have it, something did happen, as Kay let out a pain filled wail and immediately let go and backed away from the Latina, bending over and clutching herself. The Latina managed to croak out ‘break’ before most of the onlookers, myself included, were able to figure out what happened.
It seems the Latina, in a fit of desperation or brilliance, moved her hold on Kay;s garter belt more intimately inward to Kay’s lace covered crotch and started squeezing and ripping for all she was worth. That caused enough sudden pain for Kay to cry out and sink almost to her knees. Even now, in the break, she was checking her carefully manicured landing strip of pubic hair for lasting damage, luckily for her apart from a few splashes of blood there did not seem to be any, the lacy material offering at least some protection. I could see a few of the Latina’s supporters giving regretful looks, as if their future prize had been spoiled somehow. I didn’t care, I just wanted Kay to lose, and lose hard. The Latina looked like she had recovered most of her wind by this point, although she still looked a little unsteady, while Kay just looked fucking pissed. “Bitch, you are going to HURT once I get thru with you!” she threatened, her first aggressive outburst in the fight. The Latina just smiled seductively and gave her the finger. How odd the positions were reversed now, I thought, with Kay maybe flying off the handle more than the Latina. Does that mean the roles and strategies are reversed as well?
Apparently it did, as once the ref checked on the girls, made sure both wanted to continue and restarted them, Kay came out with a shriek, a nearly nude amazon with black lingerie on, claws outstretched. The Latina was still smiling, the dress pretty much hanging in rags, but still in fact hanging on her, which plus the fact that the Latina still had that smile which had turned mocking, were all it took to make Kay rush her. A poor move, hurriedly rushing a fighter that is more composed than you are, and Kay immediately paid for it, as the Latina waited until the timing was just right then unleashed a soccer kick just right that caught Kay right smack inbetween her cunt lips. Kay’s eyes bulged as she was stopped dead in her tracks and her hands went from outstretched to holding her pussy, as if she was trying to keep her guts from falling from it. The Latina smirked as Kay fell to her knees and tried to remain at least semi-upright, not curled up in the fetal position like she would have liked. Her raven haired opponent then swayed over to the kneeling Kay, got a good grip on her hair and to keep her on the defensive gave her another stomp to the crotch, smashing Kay’s fingers this time as well. Kay cried out and began sobbing, as the pain in her crotch combined with her smashed fingers was almost too much to bear. The Latina then reached down and gripped Kay;s new boobs, bringing attention to her enhanced bust for the first time. And what a rack it was. I remember from being Kay;s workout partner previously that she used to have these pert boobs that were slightly bigger than normal for a girl her size, a respectable C cup, but now they had to be at least a small D cup now, only slightly bigger than what she had been but she had gone to a respectable surgeon and it had been so skillfully done that I thought she looked better at that size than quite a few girls with larger chests. Now they were out in the open, and from the lack of lines I could see that Kay had to have tanned in the nude. Well, when your entire job is meant to be eye candy, I guess you did what you had to….
The Latina maintained her grip on Kay’s hair and slapped that gorgeous right tit, making it jiggle slightly, then the left. She repeated the process until even under that gorgeously golden tan, I could tell Kay’s breasts were quite red. “Please, no more, they’ll burst….” Kay whispered, obviously worried about the stability of her implant bags as they were never meant to be put thru such abuse. The Latina laughed and stepped a bit closer, grabbing for Kay’s right nipple and twisting it quite cruelly in her claws.
“There’s only one way I’ll stop little girl, and you know what it is. How about you submit to me right now, and I’ll let you leave with both of your little titties intact….?” The Latina left that little qualifier dangling like a carrot in front of Kay;s face, a simple way to make it all stop. I knew the outcome I was secretly hoping for, but as a catfight connoisseur, I knew that Kay should never give up so soon in a fight, especially a stakes catfight. If for whatever reason you know that you definitely cannot win a catfight, especially if there is to be a consequences session afterwards, you should try and drag it out as long as possible, to tire out your opponent your opponent and limit the amount of energy they will have towards the punishment they will inflict on the loser. Maybe the Latina was just overconfident and hoping for an early victory, but the moment I saw Kay;s lips mumbling something, I knew something was not going to be right. Warning bells went off in my head as the Latina leaned closer to Kay’s mouth and said “What’s that? I can’t hear you…”
Kay’s hands flashed out lightning quick, left hand grabbing onto the shreds of the Latina’s dress around her torso and pulling her down towards the ground with it, right fist seeking to bury itself in the Latina’s holiest of holies, right smack dab where the Latina’s kick had hit Kay so recently before. The opponents of the Latina or the supporters of Kay were all voracious in their applause as their champion took her gorgeous opponent to the ground, right hand still clamped to the Latina’s mound. The Latina;s legs folded from the impact of Kay’s fist, falling to her knees in front of Kay and bringing the two fighters to eye level. Then her face blanched then howled as Kay’s hand stayed there and proceeded to rip up the Latina’s labia lips similar to what she had done to Kay. Kay only paused to rip off the Latina;s white thong underneath her white dress, which was still hanging onto her body albeit for dear life around her hips, then went straight back at it, tearing and rending the soft flesh. Amazingly, Kay;s fingers never made the Latina bleed down there, perhaps because Kay had shorter nails to begin with, or maybe because the Latina was made of thicker skin down there than Kay was, but I could tell her cunt was definitely getting a working over. The Latina tried to mount a counterstrike on Kay’s own cunt, but her balance on her knees was all off with Kay still having a hold of her dress despite the fact that it was getting more stretched out and her marvelous pale funbags were already flopping out of it, the fabric still held. She kept trying to pull Kay’s hand off by grabbing the wrist, but Kay;s fingers had managed to somehow sneak into the Latina’s glory hole, kneading and trying to scratch the whole time, and they weren;t coming out anytime soon.
To try and even the playing field by getting at the longer-armed Kay’s treasures, the Latina had to try and stoop to get even closer to Kay in order to try and wreck her cunt the same way it was being inflicted on her. Kay still had the advantage, as she was better positioned and prepared to move around to get the best position rather than simply trying to get the largest amount of pain out the the Latina’s crotch while she still had her. It was like an encircling crab-walk, these women on their knees, with Kay maintaining control and pain dominance with her grips on the dress, now mostly a long strap, and the Latina’s pussy. But the Latina was slowly closing in, working her way past the longer arms and closer to Kay’s core, grabbing a boob with a grip that made Kay grunt with pain, although not as much as the Latina was whimpering. The Latina kept trying to work more into Kay’s embrace, past the vicious arms, until they were head to head, although not face to face, the Latina making a grab for Kay’s crotch but only getting, once again, garter belt. As they were in this awkward position, the side of the Latina’s head pressed to Kay’s face, I heard Kay say in an undertone to the Latina “There is only one person submitting here today, sister, and that is you, so QUIT already…” she said with a vicious twist of delicate twat tissue in her right hand. The Latina shrieked, but refused to answer the demand, so Kay switched from the dress hold to something more intimate, a nipple clamp right around the Latina’s all natural areola, with a vicious twist. The Latina’s face was twisted with pain that was almost unbearable, and I could tell she was very close to submitting if she didn’t do something. Kay’s supporters and enemies of the Latina, of which there appeared to be a majority in this crowd, could sense Kay’s victory was close, and were all baying for the Latina’s blood. Some of the more imaginative women were still yelling out suggestions to Kay on ways to punish the Latina, and some of the older, more mature ladies were yelling what they planned to do to the Latina once Kay’s victory was secured. I would not have wanted to be married to any of these battleaxes for any price, as if I slipped up once, I knew practically what to expect for punishment, and it was not pretty.
Desperate, and perhaps a little intimidated about the consequences if she lost, the Latina did something. As soon as Kay finished with her threat, the Latina ducked her head down to Kay’s right breast and bit her nipple. If there was wailing before, Kay let out a screech that put all those previous to shame. Kay’s nipples were right out in the open there, engorged with blood from the rough treatment the Latina had given them previously, and was just sitting there waiting, a very pair of prominent targets. The Latina fastened her pearly whites onto the right one and just wouldn’t let go. If Kay had been worried about blood before, now she definitely had something to worry about, as not only was there a trickle of blood from the areola area, but there was a definite possibility that something could be bitten off there. And that I think is what ultimately mattered most in what happened next.
The Latina had only been chewing on Kay;s nip for a second before Kay let go of everything else and tried to get her rival’s mouth off her tit by any means necessary. Including cocking her right hand back and throwing a punch at the Latina girl’s mouth. It hit the girl’s cheek bone and rattled her a bit, but she clung stubbornly to the nipple. The ref, who was stunned by the direction this fight had taken with distinctly dirty tactics that were still not against the rules, jumped on this flagrant infraction and warned Kay about doing that again. But by that point Kay was just worried about her nipple, and her fist was poised to thunder in a second time. The ref realized she wouldn’t stop in time, so he rushed forward and jabbed the cattle prod into Kay;s left butt cheek. The Latina, seeing him act out of the corner of her eye, waited until the last possible second before the prod made contact with Kay’s bare skin, then let go and disengaged from her as quickly as possible. Kay went almost directly from agony to near paralysis, every muscle in her body going rigid and every nerve ending screaming with overload. The Latina kept clear of her opponents thrashing limbs, knowing the current could travel through Kay;s body and into her if she accidently made contact.
As soon as the prod was disengaged, Kay’s body crumpled to the floor supine, like a puppet whose strings have been cut, the odd twitch as the remnants of the current dissipated in her body. She just lay there, eyes up at the ceiling, her breathing coming in ragged at first, then more steady as time went on. The Latina was nearby, massaging the pain out of her crotch, knowing that she had basically won and smiling evilly in the aftermath. Slowly, very precisely yet languidly as if she was merely accomplishing a task by rote and in the face of her enemies screaming at Kay to get up and snap out of it, the Latina went over to a still dazed Kay, flipped her onto her side, positioned herself behind her, and went for the chokeout. At first Kay did not resist, as her brain still did not understand what was going on. Then as her brain came more and more back into the clear, she tried to struggle, but it was too late, the Latina had already cut off too much oxygen to her brain and she was losing strength and consciousness fast. The ref was there in a flash, watching for the exact second Kay blacked out and then making sure the Latina let go and did not keep the hold too long and cause permanent damage. The second Kay’s face went blank, the ref pulled the Latina up. She smiled seductively at all her supporters, and flipped off all the booers from Kay’s camp. She posed for a bit with her foot on Kay’s tit, the classic champion deposing the challenger bit. Then it was all over but for the payment.
Most of Kay’s supporters or the Latina;s enemies left the room, as they knew they had already lost their money and had no intention of joining in the consequences session. Most of the rest of the people left went over to the league’s bookies to get their payout, and depending on the sum, either stick around to have a bit of fun or rush off to another fight that was just starting and parley the previous winnings into another bet. Of the people that were there expressly for the sexual consequences, there were not that many, maybe 4 single men and an older couple, one of the battleaxes that had been shouting and her husband looking for a sweet young plaything for the night. Kay’s sponsor was pissed, as this was going to be nowhere near the amount that he had been made to put up for the fight bet.
A thought occurred to me then, another knife in the twat to Kay as it were and I went up to Mr. E to see if it was feasible. He thought for a second and considered it worth mentioning, so I went with him up to Kay;s sponsor and put a bug in his ear. He listened to the proposal, then smiled and nodded and told Mr. E that if he were to arrange it he would make it happen on his end. The plan was this; that whatever the difference between the original bet and what Kay earned tonight through the consequences session would be her debt and would be either paid off by her, either at work in the form of sexual favors, by her paying it off herself (fat chance, as Kay had lost her big paycheck along with her job only moments before), or by stakes fighting here at the club. I knew Mr. E could have arranged it, I was just unsure if Kay;s sponsor had the pull to make it stick. He grinned when I brought up that little sticking point and said in his business it was all about connections, and if Kay ever wanted to work in the industry, or even at any of the upper management level of any company, she was going to need a recommendation or at least a leg up over all the other candidates. If she didn’t agree to this arrangement, then he was going to use all the clout that his new company afforded him and put the word out that she was unreliable, a kiss of death in the corporate world. Since I had no clue nor any inclination to figure out how the game was played at those levels of the corporate world (armed guards shooing out my previous bosses, remember?), I considered it poetic justice that Kay was now going to be trapped in a prison of her own making, her so-called “exclusive company”.
By now the Latina and her sponsor, by right of conquest, had begun to work on Kay. They pulled her to a corner of the room filled with sex toy furniture and threw her down onto the shag carpet in the middle. The Latina first went and roughly sat on Kay;s now sobbing face facing her body, taking care to jam her sweaty crotch all over Kay’s head. When Kay merely continued to sob, the Latina reached down and took hold of Kay’s right nipple all marked up with teeth tracks and gave it a rough pull. The effect was electric, with Kay’s body jerking up to relieve the tension on her swollen teat. Her protests were further smothered by the Latina nicely curved ass, which the Latina had taken care to situate right over her mouth.
“Shut up puta, you would be doing the same thing to me if you won, now eat it!” She threatened with a further tug on her mangled teat. Kay whimpered again, but I saw her jaw move under the Latina and a second later the Latina closed her eyes and moaning in pleasure, caressing her boobs from the sensations caused by Kay’s tongue. The Latina’s sponsor, clad in phantom of the opera mask, meanwhile had just gotten his pants off and was just kneeling down between Kay’s legs, his erect cock firm in his hand. The Latina opened her eyes a bit, saw him there and gave a slight nod as if to give approval, and the sponsor wasted no time. Spitting on Kay’s pussy briefly, he plunged his rod roughly into Kay’s tender pussy with very little ado. Kay;s body stiffened in protest, but the Latina gripped Kay’s nipple again, and Kay;s mouth went back to work, albeit protesting. The sponsor seemed like one of those guys that got off most on the roughness of the thrust, and since he didn’t have to hold back here, he came in only a few minutes of pounding Kay’s pussy. He would have left his load in Kay, but the Latina adamantly wanted him to finish on her face, so as the time got close, the Latina vacated Kay’s face but kept a firm hold on her hair. As soon as the sponsor showed signs of orgasmic twitching, she dragged him up to Kay’s head, where she lifted herself off Kay’s face long enough to have the sponsor shoot his load of gunk all over Kay;s red, wet face. Kay coughed a bit as some of it went up her nostrils, and the Latina laughed viciously.
“Aww, did he make a mess out of you, princess? Well, then let me help you wash it off,” said the victorious vixen as she unleashed a torrent of piss onto Kay’s unsuspecting face. As Kay gagged on the stale liquid, the Latina indicated she had had enough and rose off Kay;s prostrate body like the queen of the ring she had proven herself to be this day, leaving Kay to try and pick up tricks to pay for the rest of the bet her sponsor put up. As I watched the Latina sashay her tight ass out of the room, my loins gave a little sigh of lust, what a woman! Now, time to mix a little bit of business with a lot of pleasure…
Since I had paid to be next after victor’s rights (a charming phrase cooked up by Mr. E), it was my turn first. I motioned that I wanted her doggy style now on a sex bench that looked about right for my height. Kay, her eyes mostly dead behind her cum- and piss-stained face, wearily complied, knowing full well the consequences of her failure. My 7-incher was already erect and ready, so I put it in Kay;s mouth to moisten it, indulging in a bit of satisfaction by watching my friend’s hated ex-gf suck my cock, her lips and tongue gliding up and down my shaft. Then as soon as my dick was lubed up enough, least more than the Latina’s sponsor’s (hey, I can be a bastard, but that’s just not my thing), I went around to the back of Kay;s pert posterior and plunged it into her pussy. Kay;s head flew up in a gasp, as while I am not as long as some of the other guys out there, I do have quite a girth on me. I pounded into her a little while, using my skills to have her moaning in pleasure despite the wounds from the fight. I was really giving it to her, and she was really getting into it. Then, while she was arching her back and moaning from all the things I was doing to her, I grabbed her hair mid-moan, pulled her head towards my mouth, and whispered loud enough that only her and I could hear “Wow, so much for your ‘exclusive company’, I bet you are fitting right in here, don’t you, loser. Can’t wait to tell Jay about this little episode….”
Her eyes snapped wide open, and got big and round as her brain penetrated the orgasmic haze of the moment to register what I was saying. But I was too quick for her resistance, and motioned a pair of the thugs whom are there to watch and make certain all adhere to rules of the consequences session (and whom I had paid off with a selection of various bank notes) to grab her hands on either side and cuff them to the custom-made slots on the bench. Then they popped a ball gag into Kay’s mouth before she could utter a word. That’s when I pulled out of Kay’s pussy and aimed my cock a little higher, right at her little brown rosebud. I sunk it in as deep as I could on first thrust, putting most of it into her mostly virgin asshole. That’s right, I knew she hated anal because whenever Jay got drunk enough, he had told me detailed exploits about their bedroom sessions, she had hated to do anal, disliked being tied up, and really didn’t like it being that rough on her. Now here I was, riding her and fucking her ass like a fucking bronco out of the shoots at a rodeo, and she had to take it, pretty much without protest. I was in heaven, and while I knew I didn’t last very long, I was proud of how hard I rode her. When I could feel it beginning to spew low in my balls, I pumped her anus for all it was worth and filled her rectum with my pearly white cum, filled her pert ass to overflowing and watching some of it dribble down the crack as I pulled out. I then went over to Kay;s head at the top of the bench and when she raised her prostrate, weary head, I slapped her right across the face with my still turgid cock. The other people in line for their turn loved it, and gave me high fives after I cleaned up and made myself presentable for the main rooms. As I was at the door, I called back to the couple just beginning to work Kay over “Oh, and for the record, she just LOVES anal…..” A strangled sob was my only reply as I walked out to the lounge.
As I was coming out, I could see the party was breaking up, there were less people than when I had entered, and in general everything was dying down. On the way out, I was able to see Mr. E again briefly near the suggestion board that was always up to suggest fights for next month’s meeting. One of the newest entries was “Kay vs. Rhonda”, a vicious little undefeated hellcat of a fighter who was an all-out brawler and who liked to take and fuck her prizes right there in the middle of the ring, sometimes with the audience helping. I couldn’t help but think about how next month was Jay’s birthday, and contemplating the costs of a one-time guest membership……
THE END?