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Thread: Spontaneous Combustion, by Anubisx

  1. #11
    HB Forum Moderator Morton007's Avatar
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    Re: Spontaneous Combustion, by Anubisx

    Nothing wrong with build-up, Anubisx, and you're doing a great job with it! Really looking forward to more--it's a blast to see this and Supremacy both going strong.

  2. #12
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    Re: Spontaneous Combustion, by Anubisx

    Dear Anubis,

    This is a really great buildup! Keep up the great work.

    JB57
    JB57

  3. #13
    Senior Hostboard Member Anubisx's Avatar
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    Re: Spontaneous Combustion, by Anubisx

    Thank you, Morton and JB57. I didn't expect such good reviews. Right now I'm rewriting the fight (because I didn't like the first version) in Spanish, while I'm slowly translating it into English. I hope to have it ready in a week or so...

    Thanks, I'm very encouraged by feedback from everyone...
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  4. #14
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    Spontaneous Combustion, by Anubisx


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    Re: Spontaneous Combustion, by Anubisx

    Hola Anubix
    te importar?a mandarme la historia Spontaneous Combustion
    en Castellano
    No soy Espa?ol pero tiendo tu idioma
    aqu? esta mi mail
    [email protected]
    Gracias campe?n
    Gordan

  5. #15
    Senior Hostboard Member Anubisx's Avatar
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    Re: Spontaneous Combustion, by Anubisx

    Puedo mand?rtela, pero no est? terminada. Solamente ha avanzado un poco m?s que la versi?n inglesa. De todas maneras, cuando termine el tercer cap?tulo en espa?ol, te la mandar?
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    Spontaneous Combustion, by Anubisx


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    Re: Spontaneous Combustion, by Anubisx

    Gracias yo tambi?n tengo algo para ti
    sera una larga animaci?n aqu? esta algunas im?genes para animaci?n
    falta mucho toda v?a sobre todo el texto que para mi es dolor en culo escribir
    CORPORATE SEXFIGHT

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    Senior Hostboard Member Anubisx's Avatar
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    Re: Spontaneous Combustion, by Anubisx

    Very late for my work, here's the end of the third chapter...

    ***

    Natasha Reilly’s Apartment
    Dove Street, 16:44


    ‘What’s going on?’ Natasha wondered, not for the first time. After a long nap, she had awakened less warlike than before, when she had accepted her fate looking for Melissa. However, the restless sleep seemed to have raised some doubts… doubts that led her to the time before the sudden appearance of the brunette in her life. The friendly and peaceful Natasha of the past battled against her in her own mind, struggling to get out of the oblivion to which seemed banished.

    ‘How did you come to this?’ she asked her, screaming from the depths of his psyche. ‘You’re gonna fight with a girl you barely know! You’re an adult woman! It’s absurd!’ Natasha shook her head, knowing that her subconscious was telling the truth. Suddenly, resolve their differences —maybe unreal differences— that way it seemed to her stupid, childish.

    ‘You’re gonna pull each other’s hair out, tear each other’s eyes out, and wreck your pretty faces, your beautiful bodies...’ She kept hearing; now, however, every word of her alter ego sounded distant, as if the blonde of the past was falling in a bottomless pit. Her stomach fluttered and her nerves quivered as her imagination contemplated all scenarios that her unconscious was introducing to her. Without realizing it, the old Natasha was buried under her own words, again evoking the desire to fight in the toned dancer’s body.

    “Yeah, I’ll rip every strand of hair off her head!” she cried aloud, suddenly hot. “I’m going to slap her until she screams my name! I’ll scratch her skin, bite her face!”

    Hyperventilating, Natasha began to sweat, even in the cool of the apartment. She had to control herself, she had to focus; in less than four hours, she would meet Melissa, and she couldn’t survive such a big stress for so long.

    ‘A moment ago, you were thinking that all this issue of the fight was nonsense, and now you cannot wait to start,’ she conversed with herself, opening a window for air. ‘You have to close this issue tonight, or it will destroy you...’

    ***

    Melissa Carter’s Apartment
    Alston Street, 18:11


    Melissa’s bed was a mess of silky fabrics: her best ensembles were lying in any way, and the girl couldn’t decide which dress would be chosen for possibly the biggest night of her life. The hours dragged slowly on the clock, but she felt that the moment of truth would come without her clothes on.

    ‘If that fucking bitch wants to surpass me before starting, she’ll get a big surprise,’ she thought, now undecided between blue and black dress. Grabbing the second one, she visualized how she looked when she tried on it minutes earlier, for the third time. ‘You wanted this, Natasha.’

    Since they had parted that morning, Melissa had not stopped thinking about the latest blonde’s challenge, not even during the disturbed two-hour nap after lunch. The challenge had been obvious from the moment it was spit out by the dancer; thinking about it, the brunette couldn’t prevent her heart beat out to control. Natasha wanted to compare their beauties at their very best, with their figures covered by their finery, their faces made up like never before and their manes perfumed with the most exclusive fragrances. No doubt what was going to happen after comparison wouldn’t be pretty, but dirty and violent, but Melissa believed that if one prevailed in the prelude, she would have a significant psychological advantage before the duel.

    “Of course, that woman will be me,” she whispered, finally deciding which would be her battle dress. At lunch, part of her psyche had reprimanded her aggressive attitude, but the moments of doubt had been buried. Without doubts, there was only time —painfully languid time—, and the hope to close the open wound when, months ago, Natasha came for first time in her store… and into her life.

    ‘At last,’ she said herself, taking a deep breath. ‘At last I’ll resolve all that has been tormenting me...’

    ***

    Madame Lingerie
    New Hall Lane, 20:39


    In the darkness, the pupils took a while to get used. The blinds were down, so only the colorful flashes from the Christmas tree chaotically threw some light on the two motionless figures faced in the middle of ‘Madame’. Red, blue and green glints shone over short black dresses, brightening the emeralds that beauties had by iris, and the silky skin.

    Ten minutes earlier, the two had met at the door, exhibiting an overwhelming impatience. There, without a word, they had been measured each other under the streetlights, raging at the spectacle that was the other body, the other face. At Lindermann’s party they smashed egos and hopes with their ensembles, but now they were just sexual killer. Their current dresses were even tightest, which seemed impossible, and riskiest up and down: young breasts were powerfully exhibited through deep triangular necklines, while their juicy thighs were displayed almost totally due to the very short skirts. Their bellies were featured to the rival for first time through transparencies, in a show of toned abdomen. The heels reinforced their curves, although none humbled herself asking the other that she turn around to compare their firm and womanly butts.

    Their dresses were as similar as their own figures, but, curiously, their faces were those that presented more similarities that night… even more than before. The makeup had invigorated their most remarkable features, perfecting which was perfect, and thus bringing them closer to the full equivalence: the eyes glinted under elongated eyelashes and with delicate eyeliners; the lips seemed thicker, more succulent, thanks to expensive and imported red lipsticks; the slightly tanned skins had a shiny, elegant touch; the soft manes fell in a perfect frame for faces, for breasts, as smooth and endless waterfalls.

    Uncomfortable, Natasha and Melissa had studied carefully the opponent virtues, but the comparison of beauties only had instigated them towards a greater hatred. Being practical, the two searched for strengths and weaknesses before the fight, analyzing the power of legs, arms and torsos, knowing that soon they would be competing hand to hand… but they also analyzed the other glance, measuring how much willpower the other girl had in her depths.

    Now, that was left behind. The loneliness of ‘Madame’ instigated to the outbreak of hostilities, but both needed more than hatred for the other perfect body to take the final step, far away from their primitive personalities. For this reason, they provoking each other... again… something they were already experts…

    “You haven’t brought clothes, as I told you,” Melissa growled. Her face was just a pretty silhouette in the play of lights and shadows. “For your job, I assumed you were an exhibitionist, but I didn’t know you liked to go home naked.”

    “We’re in a full of lingerie store,” Natasha replied sarcastically. “A nice baby-doll, some matching stockings, and I can go back in time to ‘Darkness’ to give my fans a dance they’ll never forget. Instead, you’ll spend this special night on the floor of your store, naked, crying like a poor little girl.”

    The brunette’s eyes rolled upward, in a gesture accompanied by a loud sigh of boredom; her hands fell upon her ample hips, completing an arrogant gesture of femininity.

    “Look, baby, you’ll be who finishes crying, and I’ll be who tell your fans how I cleaned the floor of my store with your weak body. Do you understand me, stupid dancer?”

    The blonde shook her long hair, spitting a disgusted snort. Imitating the pose of her enemy, she took a courageous step forward; arching her back, she pushed her generous tits towards Melissa.

    “Tomorrow, the whole city will know how I beat your pathetic body. I’ll publish it on all networks, and I’ll tell it everyone with which I come across… especially men.”

    “You’ve always been a stuck-up woman,” the brunette attacked. “You’re just a cheap slut wiggles her ass as if you were the most amazing hottie in the world. Well, I have a scoop for you: no, you aren’t.”

    “Well, I have another scoop for you: you’re garbage.” The hate of Natasha’s voice made all the butterflies fluttering in the Melissa’s stomach. “You always were receiving me with that look of conceited whore, with the coldness of a bitch who thinks she’s the alpha female. But you’re just another cunt who needs someone to put you in your place.”

    “Can you put me in my place?” Melissa moved forward without fear, and Natasha replied walking towards her; soon, the two beauties were circling around each other in the center of the store, just a few feet from the other. “You’ll teach me a lesson I’ll never forget… right?

    “I’ll be the one that tears apart your pretty dress.”

    “No, if I tear apart yours first...”

    Surprisingly, the envy for wearing a similar dress was the reason for the final burst. Long legs’ muscles began to move, tightening to jump against rival; the anxious hands suddenly grabbed hair and cloth, while the women released all the accumulated tension with a double cry of violence, finally engaged in the long-awaited fight.

    Reducing the howls to grunts of pain and effort, the couple tugged at the other mane, envying the silky feel even while the filaments were torn. With the nails of the other hand, both quickly tore the other dress, starting with the neckline. The rips echoed in the store while the girls’ tits, covered by beautiful bras, jumped out of shredded dress.

    Losing her grip on the black fabric, Natasha sank her now free hand also in the raven hair of her nemesis; with her ten fingers in her hair, she used the new and advantageous leverage to shake the other girl by ‘Madame’. Screaming, Melissa reacted leaving her opponent dress and clutching her golden hair with a double grip. The half-naked bodies collided, and the fight accelerated.

    “Whore!” Melissa cried, shaking the other head from one side to another with rudeness. Hot Natasha’s constitution felt firm, toned against hers; her own figure palpitated with ardor, rubbing against rival’s body in a hard struggle for position.

    “Cunt!” the go-go dancer answered, pulling the brunette’s head back. Melissa’s tense neck was exposed to her for a few seconds; Natasha was found unconsciously licking her lips at the thought of biting, but the moment passed.

    Almost losing the balance on their high heels, both crashed into a bookshelf; groaning under a torrent of sample bras, Melissa released her right hand, closing it into a fist, and struck Natasha’s belly. The dancer moaned with pain but, surprising the brunette, the fist met a hard abdomen that barely yielded to the attack. Before she could react, the blow was returned against her stomach with the enemy’s fist lacerating her equally firm belly. Blonde’s angry face showed her surprise at her strength, as if she hadn’t expected that a single saleswoman was so toned.

    “For this serves the gym, bitch!” Melissa shouted, stoking again the rival’s stomach, and being hit a second time. Instinctively, she thrust a heel heavily on the Natasha’s instep, making her scream. “And for this serves the women’s weapons!”

    Seizing the weakness moment, she threw a third punch, this time against the beautiful dancer’s face. The blow was perfect, poking the chin from below; Natasha spat and, with a groan, fell back.

    At that moment, the blonde knew she was at the mercy of her nemesis; sprawled, without air and with her head groggy after the punch… she couldn’t recover in time. Her killer instincts were still active, but now out of service. She hated Melissa, but more herself for having fallen so quickly, so easily.

    But sometimes, the fate plays in favor of the disadvantaged. When Melissa stood over her, a crunch echoed in ‘Madame’; half a second later, her enemy disappeared from her sight. To the surprise of the dancer, the brunette fell on her ass with a grunt of pain. Straightening up a little, Natasha realized that a Melissa’s heel had broken.

    ‘We have been very stupid to fight in heels,’ she thought, slowly recovering her senses. ‘She has paid it, but I won’t do it,’ she concluded, taking off her heels. Just a couple of meters, the saleswoman imitated her, removing her heels as she watched her angrily: the prey had escaped her…

    Sitting on the store floor, the girls took air, recalling the brief but intense first assault of the fight. Now that the blood had been savored, both wanted more, much more. However, one of them lifted her chin with some pride, conscious of having the upper hand in the confrontation.

    “This is still much easier than I expected,” Melissa snorted, brushing her hair off her face. “If I had known, I would have kicked your ass much earlier.”

    “A lucky blow, that’s all,” Natasha squawked vengefully. “Don’t think we’re done.”

    Cautiously, looking at each other, the girls stood up, straightening up proudly at her antagonist. Then they realized what they had achieved: the other dress was half torn apart, hanging in rags from the waist and revealing black lace bras, more appropriate for a night of passion that for a secret fight. Under them, the firm women’s boobs moved to the rhythm of their breathing, already sweaty. Bellies, still covered by the suggestive transparencies, showed the marks of the other punch, almost like a cattle branding iron.

    There, in the darkness barely broken by the Christmas tree, in the solitude of the night, in the lair of her enemy, Natasha felt lost in her feelings. Yesterday, at the party, she had been overwhelmed by the stunning Melissa’s red dress, by how it clung to her formidable figure. Today, shortly before, feelings of envy and resentment had gone much further, with the body of the brunette showing her perfection under a black tight dress almost identical to hers. Now, however, the vision of the other beauty in the shadows, with her heavy tits barely covered by an extremely captivating bra, was too much for her.

    ‘I hate your body to death, bitch,’ she growled inside her head, unable to spit it out loud. Following her woman’s instincts, she ripped what was left of her dress, in a defiant gesture. Her reddened flat stomach was exposed and, a second later, her dark, small and provocative panties abandoned the privacy under the torn fabric.

    “Let’s fight like women, whore.”

    The threatening whisper almost maddened Melissa, whose breasts rose and fell in rhythm with her more and more accelerated breathing. ‘Like women,’ she mused as she tore her own dress, revealing her own femininity. The heated air confined in ‘Madame’ kissed her toned abdomen, before circling her tiny black lace panties.

    “Woman to woman, bitch.”

    Both beauties, hating the hot body facing them, walked forward with hungry. Tits shook with every step; eyes were locked before the girls lock their bodies. Melissa raised her hands, ready to return to fight in close combat...

    And a powerful slap crossed her face. The blow was vertiginous, like a cobra attack; also masterful, with the palm and fingers of the blonde going through her pretty face from one side to another, disfiguring her cheek for a second, as her long raven hair swayed in the air chaotically. Her mouth grunted, and her whole body shuddered... but the assault had only begun.

    A second slap turned red the other cheek, with the back of the Natasha’s hand hitting her. Melissa’s head was suddenly sent to the opposite side with a new grunt of pain. She stepped back, wobbly, when the final blow came: a hard fist pounded her face, tracing an upward diagonally from her left cheek. Screaming, her body was thrown back, crashing violently against a full of stockings shelf. The piece of furniture fell dramatically to the ground, making all ‘Madame’ rumbled; the brunette fell on it, breathless. Deafened, Melissa squirmed uncomfortably on the wood with her back and her head throbbing with pain.

    Natasha, meanwhile, was briefly paralyzed; she was scared, but not for the suffering of her rival: does someone have heard such a scandal? Does someone interrupt the fight, now that she was giving a lesson to that smug girl? However, several eternal seconds passed while the echo of the thud was disappearing... and nothing happened.

    “This is starting to be fun,” the blonde growled, finally being able to brag about her achievement. See how Melissa stood up between gestures of discomfort, almost crawling out of the downed shelf was incredibly delicious. “I can destroy you, while I destroy your little shop.”

    “Slut,” the saleswoman managed to gasp, finally managing escape from the deadly trap of wood. However, still dizzy, she stumbled at the last moment, falling at the feet of her antagonist. Gasping, she rolled onto her back.

    “Oh, let me help you.” Leaning, Natasha grabbed her hair with both hands and pulled and dragged the brunette by the store cruelly. With an outraged shriek, Melissa kicked the air, clawed the aggressive blonde’s hands, feeling an intense anguish in her scalp. Above her, the dancer just laughed. “You were right, bitch. This is still much easier than I ex... Ouch!”

    Suddenly, and exhibiting an incredible flexibility, the Melissa’s long right leg rose in the air; her foot hit Natasha’s forefront and, with a cry of pain, the blonde fell, with both hands on her face.

    Again, there was a no-agreed ceasefire. The two beauties writhed on the floor, both covered in sweat and suffering. Melissa’s scalp was burning, like her back and her face, while Natasha’s forehead throbbed in an intense headache that joined the ardor of her bruised left cheek. Rival bellies still throbbed from early punches, a clear sign that any damage that she would infringe take long to disappear. The idealization of the fight that both had displayed throughout the day didn’t take into consideration the reality of a real brawl, with muscle exhaustion and perpetual presence of pain as ruthless and inevitable variables.

    However, the suffering did nothing but spur them: now, the two beauties knew how easy it was hurting her nemesis, so they wouldn’t yield to their warrior instincts just because they lacked air or because their bodies feel mistreated.

    “Bitch.” The broken voice came from Melissa as she rose slowly. “I’ll destroy you for this...”

    “I’ll destroy you first, whore,” the blonde cried, injured, getting up to face the other girl.

    In the darkness, there was no time for more. Both crashed together in the middle of the store, this time without tactical or defense. The hands and arms fought in the air, pulling some hair, clawing wrists and shoulders. The girl’s tits crashed together over and over again, with an aspiration that their enraged owners didn’t understand yet. The legs, meanwhile, intertwined each other, muscle to muscle, in a desperate attempt to knock down the rival.

    The moans and groans echoed through ‘Madame’ while both beauties stumbled in a close fight. Outside, in the cold and lonely street on Christmas Eve, stray cats mewed in answer, as only witnesses to the hot encounter, before being chased away by a car whose driver quickly crossed the town looking for a delicious dinner, a lovely family and a night of peace.

    In the lingerie shop, however, the Christmas spirit had no power over the young and angry women. In their chaotic fight, they finished tearing down the tree, while both falling to the ground. Their heads were painfully tugged back as they rolled on the ground in an explosion of feline passion.

    “Is this what… ugh… you mean by fight… ouch… like a woman?” the brunette growled; her body burned so much that she believed that would break out at any moment.

    “A real woman can… ah… fight any way.” The blonde could barely hold her murderer instincts in the dramatic melee. “If you’re afraid to fight… ouch… like cats, I can destroy you… uh… with my fists again.”

    “You’ll not have a stroke… ah… of luck like that anymore…”

    Finally wrapping another body into their arms, both felt the unexpected strength of the other beauty under their hateful hugs. Like hungry pythons, they squeezing the other constitution with each muscle fiber. Melissa had intuited that a professional go-go dancer as Natasha would be fit, but the energy that oppressed her went far beyond what she expected. Feeling an aversion shock through her body, the brunette tightened to the maximum the tendons in arms and legs, trying to crush the blonde once and for all. Natasha grunted, injured, but immediately the painful groan from Melissa joined the cacophony while the angry females were rolling on the floor.

    Despite the frustrating equal, two or three minutes later one of them managed to corner her opponent. The back of the blonde hit the table where, over so many mornings, the two had faced as client and seller; the blow knocked the cash register which cruelly hit the feisty hips before rolling away from the feline girls. Sobbing at the same time, the blonde tried to escape and the brunette to dominate.

    “I’ve wanted to humiliate you from the first time I saw you, in this same place.” The sincerity came from Melissa’s lips, now against the left ear of the dancer. “And now I’m gonna do it.”

    “You’re not the only one who wanted it, who looked for it,” Natasha replied, bringing her mouth to the left ear of the brunette. “But I’ll be the only one to do it.”

    Then, the fight slowed down: the intensity of the duel, the inexperience of women —the first fight of their lives— and the pain that ran through their bodies physically exhausted the two young girls. But the urge to defeat the opponent remained intact… or even higher than before.

    The sudden lack of impetus brought all attention to the feelings that the violence of the confrontation was camouflaged: hugged like never before, both felt the suffocating weight of another chest against her own boobs, in a mutual pressure that no one could believe have ignored so far. Immediately, the memory of the conflict in the Hans Lindermann’s party came to their heads, when they had pressed her tits together…

    But what was happening there was different in many ways. The breasts were burning, sweaty, inflated by the passion of rivalry; they were crushed each other under the semi-nudity of the light bras. Natasha could feel the warm flesh of Melissa, flexible and hard at the same time, adapting to hers… and instinctively pushed forward. The two groaned as her tits were compressed in a struggle for a nonexistent space.

    Without understanding what was happening, Melissa and Natasha narrowed further their hugs, bringing her breasts into greater contact through bras. The blonde shivered, caught between the table and the brunette as she felt her wet breasts competed with rival firm pair. A gasp came from her throat, while something throbbed deep in her crotch; the belly’s butterflies went crazy.

    In front of her, Melissa swallowed; even that small gesture wiggled their flattened breasts, sending waves of discomfort —and although she wouldn’t recognize it, of pleasure— through Natasha’s body. The aroma of the brunette, a mixture of sweat, perfume and shampoo, invaded her nostrils, forcing her to bury the nose in the neck, into the hair, of Melissa.

    “Bitch,” she whispered against her ear, feeling the fiery breath of the rival accelerated on her own ear.

    “Slut,” Melissa insulted her; the full lips almost kissed her earlobe, in an act that seemed closer to the intimacy of two lovers that the epilogue of a fight.

    Then the go-go dancer noticed it: something was growing between the dueling tits, in both directions; something was hardened between them. She took only a second to reveal the mystery, and when she did, his brain broke out in contradictory orders. Natasha moaned, impaled by Melissa’s nipples, stringing the opposite breasts with hers... and exploded.

    “Bitch!” she repeated, with a cry that echoed through ‘Madame’. Her body tensed, pushing ahead with an unexpected impetus. The brunette fell back, with the blonde sitting on her belly like a feral cat. “Dyke bitch!”

    Before she could react, Melissa screamed under a rain of blows and scratches. Long fingers crossed her face over and over, while nails left slight marks on her flushed cheeks. Raising her hands, she struck blindly, throwing her own awkward slaps on the face of Natasha.

    However, the burst of the blonde was unstoppable. The brunette soon found herself on the defensive, covering her pretty face with both arms, unable to stop the beating. Her wrists and hands were full of scratches, and a hard punch managed to break through their defenses and impact on her nose.

    But the sharp torture of her face was pushed into the background when, just a moment later, her boobs busted with pain. Feeling how ten cruel fingers grabbed her tits, Melissa screamed like never before in her life. Closing the eyes, she cried inconsolably, trembling under her heartless nemesis… and it all ended. The hands were removed from her bruised breasts, and the weight of Natasha disappeared from her womb. Without strength, she curled herself on the floor, gently grabbing her tits in tears, waiting for the final attack of her opponent.

    But it never came. Melissa heard Natasha bare steps, walking through her store, and also the sound of the fabric; she knew that, as the blonde promised, she was dressing up with the lingerie from ‘Madame’. However, she also thought that she heard a slight whimper in her, which made no sense.

    Finally, the doorbell rang, followed by a door slam that shook the entire business. But Melissa didn’t move for a full hour, unable to face the reality: Natasha, her worst enemy, the most hated woman in the world, had won.

    The story continues here...
    Last edited by Anubisx; October 26th, 2014 at 03:37 PM.
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    Hostboard Member hhhhar2003's Avatar
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    Re: Spontaneous Combustion, by Anubisx

    Please, more!!!!

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    Senior Hostboard Member Anubisx's Avatar
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    Re: Spontaneous Combustion, by Anubisx

    I'm very busy right now, but I writed the (short) third part and now I'm writing the next one: the second fight. I hope to share with you the two new chapters in a few days...
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  10. #20
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    Spontaneous Combustion, by Anubisx


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    Re: Spontaneous Combustion, by Anubisx

    Muy Muy Bien
    sigue por favor
    corre sin prisa y a tu tiempo

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