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Finish Her!

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Offline NicoleS

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Re: Finish Her!
« Reply #1995 on: May 10, 2020, 03:58:07 PM »
Jennifer Lawrence VS Michelle Trachtenberg



With both ladies slowly nearing exhaustion, the two statuesque beauties pant and wince as they struggle against one another in a test of strength, their arms trembling as their feet dig into the soft canvas of the mat for support, their bodies glistening from sweat as their foreheads press tight together. They are evenly matched: true adversaries, both equally as stubborn as the other as neither girl refuse to bend a knee to the other. Having both agreed to an ‘I Quit’ match against each other, tonight was a nightmarish scenario for both of their unnaturally-high egos, with each rather being left a naked, unconscious mess in the middle of the ring than ever submitting in such an spineless fashion.

Looking to end the five minute long stalemate, Trachtenberg sacrifices her traction for a well-timed knee to Lawrence’s stomach. The blonde instinctively buckles, throwing off her centre of balance which Michelle takes full advantage of as she muscles Jen to the ground.

Jen tugs at Michelle’s hair as she fights back, but that only serves to infuriate the brunette more than anything else. Trachtenberg wants to waste not a second more than needed in finishing off her groggy adversary. Dipping to her knees, Michelle rolls the still-dazed Lawrence over onto her back. She then devilishly wraps her slender legs around Jennifer’s head to secure a figure four headscissors, her ballet-trained thighs tightening around Lawrence’s head like steel coils.

Jen sputters for breath, desperately trying to pry apart Michelle’s vicious thighs but to little avail. The blonde thrashes and squirms, her hands slapping at the merciless legs of her opponent as they squeeze her skull like an anaconda - her face is continuing to purple, mascara running as her eyelids begin to narrow. The audience is at the edge of their seats as they watch the Oscar-winning actress struggle valiantly - the stadium’s lighting reflects each minuscule shadow of her muscles noticeable as the blonde flexes her arms.

The referee kneels down next to Lawrence, asking if she’s ready to submit. Jen refuses three times before finally, at the fourth such query, she is ready to concede - she taps her hands rapidly against her tormentor’s strong thighs, eyes shut in strain as she struggles against the threat of unconsciousness. But before the official can call for the match to end, Trachtenberg squeezes even tighter yet as she hisses out to the ref standing behind her.

“She has to SAY it!”  the brunette yells defiantly. Fear appears in Jen’s eyes as she finally realises the predicament she’s got herself in - Trachtenberg will not release her until she hears a verbal submission!

“F-Fine…!” Jen croaks out, barely able to speak as the brunette’s porcelain-white thighs tighten around her skull, “Okay, fine! I qui-q-qu-” But Michelle flashes a devious smirk across her face as she clamps down tighter, her legs wrapped around Lawrence’s head so compactly that the brunette can not even sputter out the rest of her submission!  The words are stuck on the edge of her tongue as she fights to set them free.

But Trachtenberg refuses to show any mercy as her thighs squeeze Jen’s head with an intense amount of pressure, the latter continuing to thrash about as she fights to voice her submission. Michelle looks up at the audience, their loud disapproval filling her ears, revealing just how much more popular Jen is then herself. As if to silence them, Michelle gives another squeeze of her gams as Lawrence begins to bang her feet against the mat in response. Within seconds, the blonde’s world is soon swallowed by darkness as her arms at last fall limp to their sides of Trachtenberg’s legs.

Trachtenberg releases her legs as she smiles weakly - with exhaustion hampering her ability to stand up, she instead lets herself fall onto her back as her chest heaves for breath. She raises her arm in the air, hand coiled into a fist as she basks in the glares of the spectators around her. Everyone had wanted America’s angel to walk out of the ring as the victor, but in the end, the rumours were true - the devil is real and she wears a yellow dress.

Max VS Penny: Shower Showdown II



Penny grunted as Max pushed her up against the shower wall, her huge, slippery breasts covering Penny’s smaller pair in an epic display of dominance. Despite her best efforts, the west coast blonde could not budge the New Yorker an inch as Max took to work slamming her bigger jugs against Penny’s faltering breasts repeatedly.

Penny tried to counter each blow, but not many girls could compete against Max when it came to her near-prodigious rack - herself included! To complete her assault, Max leaned up on her tip-toes and let her giant breasts rest on Penny’s own tits, forcing the latter’s knees to buckle as the blonde groaned from the excess weight.

“Give up now and I’ll only make you kiss one of ‘em!” Max purred, pressing forward to increase the pressure on Penny’s breasts as the blonde continued to shake, feeling her precious globes beginning to cave, “Keep me waiting and I’ll engulf your breasts while I make you worship each of mine.” Max's pale, heavy bosom pressed deeper into Penny's, further fueling the blonde's own insecurities.

Penny struggled not to give Max the pleasure of seeing her eyes glance down to the former's huge bust atop her own. Instead, she stared up at the ceiling tiles, trying to channel any hidden reservoirs of strength as she tried to push herself from the frigid tiles that composed the entirety of the shower.

“Hnnnngggg! When hell… freezes over!” Penny screamed defiantly, breathing heavily as she stared her tormentor in the eyes without hesitation. Immediately, Max pressed forward, her massive DDs completely eclipsing Penny’s smaller C cups as the Californian wailed in agony. She slapped Max’s shoulders as she pleaded for mercy.

But Max was only getting started. Backing up, she then continued to slam her world-class bosom against the blonde’s defenseless, and easily outmatched rack. “That won’t be happening anytime soon… but I’ve got time to kill,” Max whispered into the sobbing waitress’s ear as she again pressed her soaking-wet breasts up against Penny’s once more, “I hope you’ll put up more of a fight this round. Ready?”
« Last Edit: May 10, 2020, 05:47:52 PM by NicoleS »
Don't ask to fight me. I'm just a write-y.

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Offline Jackflash Jump

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Re: Finish Her!
« Reply #1996 on: May 11, 2020, 12:06:22 AM »
A double delight!  Thank you so much, Nicole!   ;D

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Offline Celebrity Strapon Queen

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Re: Finish Her!
« Reply #1997 on: May 11, 2020, 04:23:15 AM »
Glad to see Nicole writing again!

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Offline Sandman13

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Re: Finish Her!
« Reply #1998 on: May 11, 2020, 06:29:43 PM »
Finally some good news! Nicole S. is back! Yay!

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Offline The Italian

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Re: Finish Her!
« Reply #1999 on: May 12, 2020, 06:49:25 PM »
Riley Parks (Jennifer Love Hewitt from "The client list") vs  Gloria Delgado-Pritchett (Sofia Vergara from "Modern Family)

{alt}{alt}

The debut of Riley took the underground catfight league by storm, the texan housewife turned escort  hit a series of impressive victories that led her to be booked to a match with the equally feisty (and busty) trophy wife Gloria.
The fight was long and brutal until both topless beauties found themselves standing and locked in a mutual bearhug, their massive jugs pancaked together.
Both women moeaned, panted and grunted as they ketp pushing and rubbing their assets against their opponent's; they weren't just trying to win the fight, they wanted to prove what pair os boobs was better.
"Why don't you simply give up?" panted Gloria "You aren't tough enough to beat me!"
Riley didn't reply but again strongly pushed her rack against Gloria's, making her take a couple of step back. Gloria almost lost her ground but was able to regain her balance.
"You can push all you want" said Gloria "I'll never loose against a whore!" she then gave a violent push of her own, but this time Riley was ready and simply sidestepped, making Gloria fall hard on the ground. Riley wasted no time and jumped on Gloria's back wrapping her legs around the colombian's waist,then proceeded to grab both Gloria's tits, digging her nails in the soft flesh and squeezing with all her might.
Gloria screamed bloody murder as she suffered the pain from the brutal combination of bodyscissor and breast mauling and desperatly tried to escape from her opponent grip. But then her movement started to became more feeble, maybe for physical fatigue or maybe beacuse she simply lost the will to fight as her screams and insults became a pathetic bawl.
"Yes, I'm a whore" said Riley while keeping squeezing Gloria's boobs "but I know women like you, you are far worse than me. You're nothing more than a fucking gold digger who hide her greed behind the wedding vows. So don't you dare try to act all high-and-mighty with me, you fucking bitch!"
Riley's words almost hurt Gloria as much as her hands and she would have wanted to respond to those accusations, but the only thing that came out of her mouth was a pathetic plead for mercy.
"Please...please stop...I can't take it anymore....please...me rindo...I quit...déjame ir por favor..."
Riley released her hold and stood triumphant, enjoying the audience' cheers, while Gloria crumpled in a fetal position bawling uncontrollably.
And still Riley didn't even think for a moment that Gloria would give up on revenge for the humiliation she suffered.
« Last Edit: May 12, 2020, 06:52:44 PM by The Italian »

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Offline Jackflash Jump

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Re: Finish Her!
« Reply #2000 on: May 13, 2020, 05:41:00 AM »
HWA FLASHBACK 2004:  Michelle Trachtenberg vs Brittany Snow




The instructors at the Hollywood Wrestling Alliance’s training school all agreed that two of the most talented students they have ever had were Michelle and Brittany.  Big things were predicted for both when they were finally called up to the league, and they did not disappoint with their initial matches, each notching W’s and quickly gaining fame.

Not surprisingly, both Snow and Trachtenberg were bitter rivals at the training school, and now that both were pros and eager to rise up the ranks, they saw the other as a roadblock on their road to success.  They finally had a match on an episode of the Monday night broadcast, but the twenty minute match went to a draw.  The following week they met again, and the brawl that erupted and spilled out of the ring eventually got both rookies disqualified.

Now they would meet for a third time, and on a pay-per-view no less.  What’s more, this match would have a one hour time limit, and would be submission only, which the booking committee felt was a stipulation that would keep the two combatants within the bounds of the rulebook, and not allow the match to sink to a back alley brawl again.

The match was nearing the forty minute mark, and the spectators sat spellbound.  Already the internet pundits were waxing rhapsodic about how this was a veritable symposium on pure wrestling, with the two tyros displaying equally awesome talents at submission grappling.  Time and again, Brittany and Michelle subjected one another to the most devastating of holds…the Stepover Armlock Camel Clutch, the Cross-Legged STF, the Gory Special, and many more…which only through their superb physical conditions and iron wills they managed to endure without submission.  The referee kept in his back pocket a wireless microphone, which would be held to the mouth of one of the wrestlers so that her surrender could be heard loud and clear, compounding her humiliation.

Both the blonde and the brunette were running on fumes by this point, their last dregs of strength fading from the grueling punishment each had endured.  They realized that if either of them is to win, it would have to be soon.

Suddenly, fate seemed to smile upon one, as Michelle managed to snare her rival in a Texas Cloverleaf.  Snow let out an agonized howl as her body was brutally twisted. “Give up,” Trachtenberg gasped in an exhausted voice, “or I swear I’ll break your leg!”

Brittany’s only possible hope for salvation was the fact that she was so tantalizingly close to the ropes.  Her hands darted forward, but fell just a few inches short of the bottom cable.  Moaning in pain, she desperately claws at the canvas, slowly dragging herself forward, until she is finally able to hook the rope with her fingers.  The referee calls for the hold to be broken; Michelle is reluctant at first, but finally she realizes that she can’t win if her opponent is on the ropes.

Releasing the leglock, Trachtenberg stands up, then she grabs Snow by her tangled golden mane and pulls her crawling on all fours toward the center of the ring, where she intends to re-apply the Cloverleaf, this time nowhere near the strands.  But just then, Brittany swings her left arm up, slamming her forearm into the brunette’s groin!  Michelle lets out a YEEP of pain and staggers backward, knock-kneed.

Drawing upon what’s left of her ebbing power, the blonde struggles up to her feet and faces her foe.  She then turns her back to Trachtenberg, brings her right arm up to wrap it around her adversary’s head, and then drops down to the mat, delivering a Stunner to the brunette.  Michelle’s body flops to the canvas, her glazed eyes rolling in their sockets as she struggles to not pass out.

Sensing victory within her grasp, adrenaline now pumps through Brittany’s body, invigorating her.  She gets back to her feet and delivers a boot stomp to the back of Michelle’s skull, further stunning her.  The blonde then limps over to the nearest corner and unties the turnbuckle padding, tossing it aside to expose the steel clamp beneath.  She next returns to the groaning Trachtenberg, who has managed to push herself up to her hands and knees, and hauls her rival up to her own unsteady stems by two handfuls of hair.

Dragging her foe to the corner, Snow slams Michelle’s forehead into the steel buckle.  Trachtenberg slumps against the ropes, her body threatening to melt into a hapless puddle on the canvas.  The blonde then has a most insidious notion.

Wrapping her arms around Michelle’s waist and hoisting her opponent up over her shoulder, Snow manages to set the brunette down atop the turnbuckle, throwing her legs behind the top ropes.  Then she slips between the cables and alights to the arena floor.  Grasping Trachtenberg’s ankles with her hands, Brittany places first the sole of one boot against the edge of the ring apron, then the other, and she leans backward, until the blonde is almost upside down and her head hovers just above the floor as she tugs her adversary's legs with all of her might.

This results in pulling the brunette’s body downward, with the steel buckle grinding viciously into her crotch!  The sudden jolt of anguish snaps her out of her stupor, and she throws her head back and yowls in torment. “NO NO NO NO NO!” she shrieks as tears streak down her face.

“Ask her!” the blonde commands the referee.  The official is paralyzed with confusion.  Clearly this is not a legal move…Trachtenberg is technically on the ropes, after all.  But as the zebra looks over to the HWA official sitting at the timekeeper’s table, the executive gives a small nod.

With that, the ref, pulls the microphone out of his pocket, switches it on, and holds it up to the embattled beauty’s face. “What do you say, Michelle,” he asks.  “Ready to submit?”

Michelle shuts her eyes tight and bites her lower lip, trying to block out the unimaginable pain.  Her resistance lasts a full four seconds longer, until she frantically clutches the microphone and shrieks, “YES!  I GIVE UP!  I SUBMIT!  OH GAWD I SUBMIIIIIIIIIIT!!!”

(The photo snapped by a ringside photographer at the exact moment of surrender was splashed on magazine covers across the globe, and won him a sports photojournalism award.)

{alt}

This hard-won victory cleared the path for Brittany, who shot up the ranks, and within four months of this match got a shot at the HWA Intercontinental belt…which she won.

Michelle found her star substantially dimmed for a time.  She was relegated to the house show circuit for the next half-year, until finally she worked her way back onto the broadcast cards.  And there was greatness and gold in her future as well.  But there was also this black mark on her record and in her memory as well, and it was a long time before she had the chance to possibly erase it.

But that’s a story for another day….

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Offline msstealurboy

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Re: Finish Her!
« Reply #2001 on: May 17, 2020, 06:19:02 AM »
Is there a single picture of Michelle trachtenberg on this site that's less than 10 years old??
She doesnt look like that anymore people lmao
I could understand if it was a flashback match.
Single guys need not apply.

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Offline msstealurboy

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Re: Finish Her!
« Reply #2002 on: May 17, 2020, 06:22:00 AM »
HWA FLASHBACK 2004:  Michelle Trachtenberg vs Brittany Snow
oh yours actually was a flashback match hahaha doh
Single guys need not apply.

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Offline Jackflash Jump

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Re: Finish Her!
« Reply #2003 on: May 24, 2020, 08:50:02 AM »
Sarah Michelle Gellar vs Rowan Blanchard

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Panting hard, the blonde tried to rise up from her knees, but with a moan sank back down to all fours, her sweat-soaked body trembling.

And slowly stalking around her, like a shark circling her prey, was her opponent.  Her skin glistened with perspiration as Rowan sneered at her downed rival and said coldly, "Just stay down, you has-been.  You're no match for me, and you know it."  To punctuate her taunt, the brunette smacks Gellar in the back of her head, producing a grunt of discomfort.

When newcomer Blanchard first made her challenge to Sarah, the widespread shock of her audacity was matched only by the near-universal conclusion that the veteran was going to dismantle the upstart youngster.  After all, Sarah Michelle Gellar has been a major figure in celebrity catighting for more than 20 years.  True, age has perhaps taken her past her peak.  But nevertheless, her experience alone should more than make up for any deficiencies, particularly against a green rookie.

Yet, those who had witnessed Rowan's handful of matches realized what a natural talent the teenager was, an uncut diamond only in need of a bit more polishing.  Although even these people would never have gone so far as to predict she would win tonight, they did feel that the brunette would give a good accounting of herself.

Everyone had told Rowan she was crazy to challenge Gellar.  Her fighting career had been off to a tremendous start, with several definitive victories.  However, they were against newcomers like herself, and certainly none of them had the ability or the combative knowledge of the veteran blonde.  But Blanchard was a young woman in a hurry, with no patience for waiting for things to happen in their own good time.  She knew she was better than anyone else...most certainly an aging bitch like Sarah Michelle Gellar.  The only thing the older woman was good for was to serve as proof of just how devastating the brunette was, as she destroys the catfighting legend.

It was virtually inevitable that Sarah would come into this match underestimating her adversary, but in her wildest dreams, she never anticipated that the teen would come at her from the very start with such skill, ingenuity and fury!  The blonde was instantly put on the defensive, and she never had an opportunity to mount an effective offense; every effort to counter was adroitly thwarted by Rowan, who seemed to almost be able to predict what Gellar would attempt.  Soon enough, Sarah was flailing about almost in a panic, as her younger rival systematically dismantled her, and ably demonstrated before the eyes of the shocked spectators that all of the blonde's hard-earned skills and experience meant nothing when facing an superior female like Blanchard.

And now the teen tigress was ready to finish her vaunted...and outmatched...foe off once and for all.  Standing behind Gellar, who was still swaying unsteadily on her hands and knees, Rowan grabbed her hair and pulled the squealing blonde up to her feet as if she were a ragdoll, and then applied a Rear Naked Choke; betraying both her youth and her glee, she giggled as she strangled the veteran into certain defeat.  Gellar's features reddened as she struggled for breath, and the stunned spectators could not help but see her distress etched upon her beautiful face.  A tear trickled from the corner of the blonde's right eye, and all assembled there were certain they were viewing the destruction of a legend...and the birth of a new legend, phoenix-like from the ashes of the old.

But what happened next was not a rising, but a falling, as Gellar reached up with her hands, wrapped them around the back of the head of her tormentor, and suddenly dropped to her knees.  Blanchard's chin smashed into the top of the blonde's skull, the sharp impact stunning her as she released her hold and staggered back a few steps.  Then, with a fluid move, Sarah sweeps her left leg behind her, knocking Rowan's feet out from under her and sending her crashing onto her back.  Spinning around, Gellar lunges, and with perfect precision lands a headbutt squarely into her opponent's groin!  And in a matter of heartbeats, the entire tide of the battle had turned.

Where just a minute before was a pathetic wreck of a woman utterly spent and hapless, now there arose to her feet a veritable Amazon, as adrenaline pumps through her veins and strength flows into her sinews.  Reaching down, Sarah grabs the moaning teen by her brown hair and hauls her mewling upright.  Standing before her rival, the blonde cups her hand under Rowan's chin and squeezes her cheeks in, holding the brunette's face directly in front of here, which is bare inches away.  Eyes glistening with a cold fury, Gellar says matter-of-factly, "You can win plenty of skirmishes, and even the battle, but it isn't over until you've won the war.  And sweetie pie, for you, the war ends right now."

What followed next was breathtaking: in a tremendous show of raw strength, Sarah pulled Rowan's body across her shoulders and held her aloft in a Torture Rack!  The blonde then began to walk slowly around, carrying her adversary as a huntress displays her captured prey.  Gellar made sure that each and every spectator got a good look at the upstart youth as Blanchard's howls of agony filled the room.  Finally the teen could take the pain no longer and she began to shriek, "STOP!  I GIVE UP!  LET ME GO!  PLEASE!!!"

With her rival's submission, Sarah let her go and shook the brunette off of her shoulders, sending her crashing in a heap to the floor, where she lay sobbing and quivering.  The blonde had no need to strike a victory pose...there was no doubt in anyone's mind who the superior woman is on this night.  She simply strutted proudly out of the room and into the mansion's guest bedroom which had been reserved for her, and she collapsed on the bed in utter exhaustion and fell into a deep, restful sleep.
« Last Edit: May 24, 2020, 05:09:24 PM by Jackflash Jump »

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Offline Writerys

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Re: Finish Her!
« Reply #2004 on: May 26, 2020, 06:29:51 PM »
First time writer here. I thought I'd give this a shot. I love Billie Eilish and PandorasBox had a great idea with their story that I wanted to work off. I hope they don't mind!

Billie Eilish VS Hunter King ft Joey King

{alt}

Billie wanted Ariel's attention. The titfighting princess was not an easy one to get a hold of to set up a match, so Billie decided that word of mouth was going to have to spread a lot more if she wanted her chance at fighting Winter. After beating Abigail Breslin in an upset no one saw coming, Billie was cemented as an up-and-coming titfighter... but she wanted more. So she called the next best girls before Ariel herself: the Hunter sisters - plural.

First she dealt with Joey, the youngest of the two girls. Joey tried to fight back but Billie's tits were a lot bigger up close than they looked in any of the music videos. Immediately off the bat, Joey had come at Billie hard and fast, but Billie simply mowed her back into the wall as she slammed Joey's girls flat with her larger bust.

Joey tried to hold defense by titboxing Billie's boobs with all she had left, but the green-haired songstress was stubbornly tanking each hit like it was nothing! Then, she jutted her breasts forward as Joey's pair mushroomed around the superior globes. With Joey against the wall, Billie ensnared her in a crushing bearhug as Joey's breasts vanished against Billie's ample boobs almost immediately!

The younger King sister wailed as she tried to break free, letting her scream carry to her elder sister's ears at the other side of the ring. "She's too bigggg!" she yelled as she felt her breasts caving to Billie's rack. Hunter, who clung to the ropes watching the match, had seen enough by this point.

"Hey, BITCH! My turn!" yelled Hunter as she climbed the ropes and landed in the ring with a loud thump. Billie looked over her shoulder to see Hunter marching at her fast and without hesitation, seeking revenge for her baby sister's sound defeat. Just as Hunter got near her, however, Billie spun around with Joey still in her possession, letting go as she threw the younger brunette into her older sister! The two Kings collided boob-to-boob, both pairs pancaking together with Hunter's surprisingly taking the brunt of the impact! To the crowd's surprise, hers lost more of their round shape than Joey's did!

"Hmmm, seems like little sis is firmer than big sis, everybody!" Billie shouted as she hopped over to where Hunter stood, the blonde dazed as she tried to regain her breath from the collision, "But neither of these washouts hold a candle to my Billie clubs!" Suddenly, the blonde let out a wicked groan as Billie slammed into her jugg-to-jugg with little remorse.

The singer's heavier tits sent Hunter King straight back into her corner ring post as Billie once against locked in her boob-punishing bearhug! Hunter was a bit more stubborn than her younger sister and managed to break free once, shoving Billie back as she tried to make an offensive against this young bitch.

"Oooooooh gawdddddddd!" the blonde moaned loudly. Hunter knew as soon as they went jugg-to-jugg that she had made a mistake. Billie Eilish's globes did not give even a fraction of a inch, remaining large, heavy... and firm! A few seconds later, Hunter let out a feminine squeal as her proud breasts were caved inward, crushed by the weight of Billie's indomitable breasts.

Billie broke the hug as she twisted her shoulders, before turning back and SLAMMING her tits against Hunter's, not once, not twice, but THREE times, finally knocking the blonde on her ass with the last blow! Billie hooted as her tits jiggled wildly, retaining their firm bounce as she quickly regained her composure before her fans. Billie wasted no time as she scooted forward and pinned down Hunter's wrists to the mat. Billie dangled her large breasts over the blonde's face, her smile cruel as she then what she'd seen Hunter do so many times to other girls: she lowered her bosom down, locking King into a tight breast smother!

Billie's smirk grew wider as the older girl thrashed beneath Billie's big breasts  - from the singer's vantage point, she could see only Hunter's eyebrows, with the rest of her reddened face obscured by Eilish's destructive twins as the blonde fought for oxygen.

Hunter's face was beet red from shame as she grunted long and loud into Billie's orbs as she failed to escape from beneath her opponent, tapping vigorously on her green-haired tormentor's shoulders as she begged for mercy. Just as she was about to go under, Joey rushed over and leaned down beside Billie, whispering in the singer's ear as she watched her sister thrashing wildly beneath Billie's boobs. Billie laughed at whatever Joey said, and continued her smother as she seemed to be processing the conversation in her head. Joey stood up after seeing Billie finally nod her head.

Then, Billie relieved her smother! She stood up quickly, accepting Hunter's submission as she stood beside Joey, her hands coming to rest on her hips. A few seconds later, the younger King planted her lips on Billie's right tit, too big to take into her mouth as she instead suckled on it passionately as Billie was soon announced the winner.

"This isn't poker, ladies--you should know that Queens beat Kings everytime!" she said as she laid a foot atop Hunter's stomach in victory. She wondered how many more girls she would have to put down before Winter finally showed herself.
« Last Edit: May 26, 2020, 06:35:47 PM by Writerys »

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Offline Jackflash Jump

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Re: Finish Her!
« Reply #2005 on: June 09, 2020, 11:59:26 PM »
SWELTER:  Troian Bellisario

(One of the great things about being pals with The Walkin' Dude is that from time to time, completely out of the blue, he'll grace my mailbox with a masterful little gem he's written just for fun.  Better still, he tells me I'm free to share it if I wish, and that's just what I'm going to do with all of you.  Enjoy!)

This stemmed from when I read one of the many cancelled Friday the 13th scripts and spent part of the afternoon figuring out how I'd structure my own sequel. Because I am me it eventually lead to me thinking that a Summer Camp would offer all sorts of interesting venues for femfight scenarios and this in turn created a festival of sorts called 'Swelter'. Somewhere in the vicinity of 3-5 days long, it's either a bunch of miniature tournaments centered around the different types of matches or it's a place where a lass can go to fill up her dance card against any number of different opponents, be they longtime rivals or someone she's never faced before. What I actually put together is a quartet of snapshots from Troian Bellisario's Swelter schedule. I don't think any of them actually include the deciding moments of the match, though the focus on a single moment as well as their relative brevity makes me think they could make a home in FH without offending anyone.


******
{alt}
Troian Bellisario

On the Raft versus Sofia Pernas:

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The venue’s a simple wooden raft of planks mounted to half a dozen old plastic floats, like any other you’d see on countless lakes throughout the Midwest and Northeast. This particular example is perhaps a bit larger than its cousins and features one unusual feature, a sturdy foam ‘bumper’ of sorts that runs along the entire perimeter. It won’t keep anyone from falling off, it will however prevent anyone from injuring themselves against an edge were they to fall into the lake. Such an unexpected dip is hardly a concern at the moment, as the combatants are grounded, with Troian (lifeguard style midnight blue one-piece) stretched out high and tight across the chest of one Sofia Pernas (identical one-piece in electric yellow). The Moroccan import’s star has been on a near meteoric rise this summer due in no small part to a blistering rivalry with Bellisario, but though it has led to breakout matches with Laura Vandervoort, Katie Cassidy and most recently Summer Glau, it has yet to translate into any W’s against Troian herself. That drought doesn’t look to end anytime soon, as Troian (laying heavily on her left side) has her left arm cinched tight around the back of the other brunette’s neck, drawing her into a Side Headlock that just happens to keep the newcomer’s mouth wedged against the modest swell of Bellisario’s left breast. Also troublesome is the state of Pernas’ left arm, currently cinched tight between the vise of her opponent’s sinewy thighs. Even so, Sofia is far from helpless, as her right hand is buried in Troian’s hair and pulling hard enough to put the bendy-back’s left ear against her left shoulder. Might not be enough, alas. Pic shows hard-eyed Troi’s hands *just* breaking apart, the right seeking her new rival’s face, either to pinch her nostrils shut or possibly secure a HOM Smother. Sofia’s left leg, seen kicked almost straight into the hazy June sunshine behind her opponent, suggests how little she wants Bellisario’s mitt to reach its destination.

In the Cabin versus Perdita Weeks:

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Somewhere in one of the main cabins, half a dozen bunks have been pushed back against the walls and just as many rugs have been laid close to one another, creating a makeshift mat over the smooth hardwood floor. Standing amidst these rugs are Troian and ridiculously fit Brit gym rat Perdita Weeks. They’d be shoulder to shoulder (Troi’s right to Perdita’s left) if they were standing straight, but both ladies were bent almost double because they’d secured their near arm around the neck of her opponent for a mutual Headlock. Weeks’ face tough to make out because Bellisario has a savage handful of her hair, however the gleam of one eye and the obvious strain in her jaw suggest the photog might’ve caught her in mid-shriek. Not that all is sunshine and roses for Bellisario, far from it in fact. Eschewing a hair-pull of her own, Perdita has reached behind her own back and done…something. You’d need a reverse angle to actually confirm the wedgie (which has in fact raised Troian’s conservative red bottoms by almost six inches) but the gaping mouth and ‘How could you?’ expression on the brunette’s face provide compelling evidence on their own. Quite testy behavior for what was supposed to be a purely ‘competitive’ wrestling match and it would only grow more heated once Troi undid Perdy’s knotted tee-shirt and used it to bind the blonde’s arms for a full-on Hockey Fight style beatdown of the strong Briton’s vaunted tummy!

In the Yard versus Nina Dobrev:

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The phrase ‘catfight’ isn’t mentioned frequently at Swelter, indeed it is seen by more than a few festival participants to be little better than a four letter word, a slur requiring one to spit after sullying one’s mouth with the sound thereof. And yet in some cases it is the only proper descriptor. One such case was the latest skirmish in the ongoing war between Troian and nemesis Nina Dobrev. Taken after more than thirty minutes of hard fighting in the dusty red soil out in front of the dining hall, the picture shows Nina (sporty black tie-sided two-piece with multi-colored accents and white athletic shoes, thoroughly coated with the aforementioned red dust) pushed up on the palm of her right hand while the left stretches back at a sharp angle, her grit-grimed nails straining to hook something, ANYTHING, to end this torment. No joy, she’s a good four inches shy of Bellisario (strappy black two piece with thin turquoise belt and gray athletic shoes, similarly coated), who’s seated on the back of her knees with both arms pistoned down and crossed at the wrists to secure great, greedy handfuls of Nina’s inner thighs. Shot was snapped at medium distance from the right, so there’s not much detail on the Hammy Clamp, but an astute observer can easily make out the ‘C’ shaped hook of Bellisario’s right thumb and forefinger pressed into the deep crease separating Nina’s left thigh from her buttock. The agony stamped on Dobrev’s face stands out in stark contrast to Troian’s icy calm, though the impressionist pattern of fresh palm-shaped welts emblazoned on Dobrev’s reddened glutes suggest that Bellisario hasn’t forgotten succumbing to a Front Face Sit in their last match.

On the Beach versus Brie Larson:

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Troi’s last match at Swelter is not only her biggest of the festival, but one of, if not thee biggest of her entire fighting career. Hanging losses on type-rivals like Pernas and Weeks is a good résumé builder and drawing a squealing submission from Neens NEVER gets old, but a bout of submissions only Beach Wrestling against a genuine A-Lister? A win could send her to the next level and she meant to take full advantage. Of course that was easier said than done when the opposition was freakin’ Ms. Marvel, but fifteen minutes in and she’s holding her own. Picture shows what was once a Reverse Matchbook, Larson to Bellisario only recently converted into a mutual Bodyscissors, a predicament that strongly favors the limber brunette. Seated on her tush, Troi’s (same model of strappy two piece that took down Dobrev, but this one in deep emerald green with a chunky white belt) got her legs cinched around Larson’s (similar two piece in royal blue, narrow yellow belt with Ms. Marvel insignia on the right glute) trim midsection, her ankles crossed just above the nape of the blonde’s neck. Hands pressed deep in the sand, Bellisario hoists herself off the beach to get full extension on the Scissors, her thighs just DIGGING into Brie’s ribs. Blonde’s definitely in a spot of trouble, but she’s hardly beaten. Palms set in much the same way as her opposition, Brie’s raised up just high enough to get her face off the beach, but the rest of her attention is focused on the Scissors wedged beneath the brunette’s armpits. Legs bent deep, Larson’s heels are almost brushing the back of Troian’s skull and the stern look in her eye suggests she might put ‘em there a few dozen times if it means popping the lock on those damned Scissors. The grim expression on Bellisario’s face implies she’s anticipated such a reaction and will happily return it by forcing Brie’s vulnerable mug deep into the damp, lakeshore sand.

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Offline the_walkin_dude

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Re: Finish Her!
« Reply #2006 on: June 10, 2020, 05:38:44 AM »
SWELTER:  Troian Bellisario

(One of the great things about being pals with The Walkin' Dude is that from time to time, completely out of the blue, he'll grace my mailbox with a masterful little gem he's written just for fun.  Better still, he tells me I'm free to share it if I wish, and that's just what I'm going to do with all of you.  Enjoy!)

Evening Flash,

Thanks again for enabling my laziness when it comes to scrounging up pictures to use for bits like this, it's much appreciated.

~rf

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Offline MikaylaSlays

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Re: Finish Her!
« Reply #2007 on: June 18, 2020, 07:33:04 PM »
Hell yes sign me up for more Billie Eillish.
Good Luck ;)

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Offline Jackflash Jump

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Re: Finish Her!
« Reply #2008 on: June 22, 2020, 01:39:59 AM »
Kaley Cuoco vs Olivia Munn

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It had proven to be an unbelievably grueling fight, as Kaley and Olivia battled one another to a virtual standstill.  With the brawl now passing the thirty minute mark, both beauties had pushed themselves to their limits of exhaustion and beyond, and were running on veritable fumes now.

They were trading judo chops to their chests, leaden arms striking like cudgels, each blow causing an eruption of beads of perspiration and their bare breasts...their bikini halters long since torn away...bouncing wildly from every impact.  Suddenly and without warning, Olivia shifts tactics, landing a tomahawk chop flush to Kaley's forehead, and then another, and then a third.  The trio of blows leave the blonde stunned, her eyes glazing as her legs wobbled and her knees threatened to buckle.  Pressing her advantage, Munn now throws a backhand blow to her opponent's jaw that snaps Cuoco's head sharply to the side and causes her to stagger backward in obvious dire straits.

Seeing a glimpse of victory for the first time tonight, the brunette grabs her rival by her damp and matted golden locks and turns her face toward the assembled onlookers, all of them men of great wealth and power.  "Take a look at your princess," Olivia rasps in a voice that betrays her ache and exhaustion, displaying the much beloved Kaley in her haplessness.  "I'm about to prove to her and you just who the best woman is!"

She then drags the stumbling blonde over to the nearest wall, grabs the hair at the back of Kaley's head with her right hand, while with her left she takes her opponent by her left forearm, and she swings Cuoco toward the wall with all of the force she can muster, knowing the impact would beyond a doubt knock her out.  But, at the last instant, Kaley was able to lift her right leg and plant her foot against the wall, breaking the momentum and sparing herself the devastating crash into the hard plaster.  She the yanks her left arm free of Munn's grasp, and throws an elbow up into the brunette's chin. 

Now Olivia reels backward, until she finally drops to one knee, shaking her head to try and clear it.  Kaley whirls around to go on the attack, but her exhaustion overwhelms her and she has to lean against the wall until a sudden wave of dizziness passes.  By the time she's able to go on the offensive again, the brunette has had precious seconds to rally somewhat, with the result being that as Cuoco steps up to her, Munn is able to throw a fist up into her rival's belly, doubling the blonde over as she suddenly gasps for breath.

But as damaging as that punch was, it lacked the raw power to do more than daze Cuoco for a few moments, so that as Munn rises up to her feet, she is met with a punch to the abs as well.  Both beauties now take time to try to shake off the pain that wracks their lush bodies, as they limp around the penthouse floor, calling up their last dregs of strength.  Finally, as if on a silent cue, the pair hurl themselves at one another, colliding with the sound of sweat-soaked flesh thudding together, and they collapse into a heap on the carpet.

They are a tangle of arms and legs and they roll back and forth across the floor, snarling and panting, hands yanking hair and squeezing breasts, like two savage jungle cats in primal battle.  And with every passing heartbeat, they grow weaker.

Finally, lacking the strength for anything more demanding, both Olivia and Kaley resort to the same tactic:  their hands clamp down over their rival's mouth, and pinch her nose shut, as each tries to smother the other into defeat.  Their muffled gasps for breath sound pitiable, and their faces turn ever-deepening shades of red as they are suffocated, their eyelids growing heavier over glassy orbs.

Suddenly, one beauty's hands fall free of her adversary's face, and her body goes limp as her lids flutter shut.  Once more able to breath, Kaley takes a deep gasp of precious air as she continues to smother out Olivia for several seconds more.

She has won, but it is a far-from-convincing victory.  Cuoco is enough of a catfighting veteran to realize the importance of a decisive win, particularly over such a challenging opponent.  Although her spent body rebels at the very thought of it, Kaley knows what she must do to turn such a narrow win into a resounding triumph.

Drawing upon some secret wellspring of power, she commands her reluctant form to rise up to one knee, and to haul the slumbering brunette up with her.  Munn is like a dead weight in her arms, and Cuoco whines from the strain, but still she manages to pull the body of her rival over her shoulders.  Then, in a senses-shattering spectacle of willpower, the blonde slowly rises up, until at last she is standing upright with the battered body of her adversary slung over her shoulders, as a huntress would display her captured prey.  Amazon-like, Cuoco holds her victim aloft, drawing an eruption of cheers and a standing ovation from the onlookers.  Then, with a warrior's bellow, Kaley releases Olivia, and the brunette limply slides down her back and crashes back to the floor in a moaning heap.

Her last vestiges of strength now evaporated, Kaley faints and fall down, her body splayed atop that of her beaten rival.  But her goal has been accomplished; rather than recall how evenly matched these two were, the spectators will now muse with awe-struck admiration at the spectacular show of power which the victorious blonde displayed, turning a near thing for Cuoco into a victory that, with every retelling, will be regaled as Kaley's total domination of Olivia, and the further burnishing of the blonde's already considerable catfighting legend.

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Offline Delacroix

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Re: Finish Her!
« Reply #2009 on: June 26, 2020, 05:30:10 PM »
Hi everyone do head over to my poll to vote and give your thoughts, will be writing the story here after the poll has ended. Thank You in advance - https://www.freecatfights.com/forums/index.php?topic=89068.0