The B Club (number one) by Mr. Cage

[cage]

WARNING: This is a fantasy of extreme nature about violent, brave, lusty people who are willing to personally suffer the consequences or reap the rewards of their actions without regards to the norms of modern society. Those snowflakes easily offended do not read. This is erotic fiction not a how to book.

The B Club (number one) by Mr. Cage ([email protected])

My wife Karen gasped then shuddered in the corner of the mattress ring. Her long muscle shirt was around her waist fully exposing her crotch and too big ass, but the real problem was her opponent Fatima had ripped the neck hole of her muscle t down the left side exposing her meaty floppy left boob and swollen to purple now nipple. Fatima?s brown fingers had the nipple crushed and twisted while her right hand pushed the orb back under Karen?s left arm. Karen endured keeping her left hand on Fatima?s strong chin pushing the Egyptian bitch?s head up and to the right as Karen?s right hand added to the neck twist using a fist full of tangled long black hair as a handle. Fatima?s tee was also matted to her round belly exposing her hairy mound, but Karen?s pale white knee was trapped between the Egyptian?s thighs and rubbing the mound. My wife was leaning hard against the corner pad, trapped and suffering as the shorter, heavier Egyptian wife leaned against her. Fatima?s left hand held the back of the pole for additional leverage.

The crowd of married couples, strangers except for membership in this international fetish club, roared. Forty years early this might have been a key party club where stranger sex was decided by a wife reaching into a bowl to extract the car keys of another man. We were not same-room happy, sex-sharing relationship builders like you see on the Playboy Channel. This was about violent competitive women winning another woman?s husband for her use while humiliating the loser not just by beating her and embarrassing her in front of a crowd but taking her husband at her own home, in the parking lot of her kid?s soccer game, in her car as she shopped or in front of her for seven days. At the same time the winner awarded her husband the loser?s ass which was taken in front of the crowd. Additional humiliations were often piled on. And of course it was about the husbands getting their rocks off watching a catfight and doing their wives bidding or adding to their wife?s humiliation.

Karen?s neck twist rotated the brown bitch against the far ropes and freed Karen?s trapped knee. Fatima?s left arm stretched straight as she kept working on my wife?s now wet with pink lymph nipple. They?re nails were cut short, but that much nipple abuse still cracked or milked them. Karen wailed as her nipple was crushed in on itself and gouged from underneath, yet she did not give as the woman before her had to tit torture. That bitch was still crying in the corner of the room, face down, cum dripping from her distended asshole. Her husband was happily eating the woman who beat her nearby.

The B Club, Bitch Club, had probably started in a big city by S and M types or maybe even lesbians with husbands, surprisingly not a small percentage of the membership. With so many swap clubs, cuck clubs, stranger sex apps, rape play scenes and so on, it was only a matter of time before we like kinds got together. Now there was a B Club App that tracked its members and could call club meetings with little or no notice or planned gatherings in high participant areas. You could ignore the call three times, but if you ignored it a fourth you were out and of course all your videos remained club property. The membership did change as most women who could not win from time to time dropped out, or marriages shattered, or people just got old and gave up the thrill of it. New members joined and suffered through a rigorous initiation where the fought other newcomers in round robin matches that were exhausting and painful, but of course totally revealing.
With Fatima now bent back over the top rope, Karen let her tortured tit get stretched even tighter as she rounded with a brutal left knee to Fatima?s round almost fat belly. This time the white knee dug in deep and Fatima groaned. Another knee, lower into the mound. Fatima cursed. Karen?s tits often got tortured, but she seemed to prefer going low, working on a woman?s lower belly and crotch. She had a reputation as a ?cunter? among our local group, but this was an airport gathering of locals and transients like the traveling Egyptian official and his normally oh so proper wife.

The Egyptians had been visiting corporate farms when the app called them to the fight in a rental house near the airport and forty minutes? drive from our home. The app probably had purposefully invited us since Karen was once Israeli. In the questionnaire you can specify racial, ethnic, religious, economic, regional, body types, hair color, etc. of desired opponents or people you did not want to fight. I suggested to Karen not to avail herself of the data field since it is never wise in modern day America to admit to a prejudice. She had wanted to fight blacks and blondes with big tits, but said she edited out those specifics. I?ll bet the Egyptian had specified a desire for Jews. Because ?Jew Cunt? had already been said more than once and been replied to with ?Raghead Cunt.?
Karen?s knees finally caused the Egyptian to push off and retreat out of the corner. Karen caught her with a brutal face slap. Only slapping was permitted above the shoulders. Fatima covered her face and forearm smashed Karen?s tits knocking her back. Now they both edged out into the center of the arena. A series of slaps missed or were blocked. Fatima grabbed my wife?s hair and jerked her into a belly shot, but Karen took it and dropped her left hand to the rather impressive black bush that obscured Fatima?s crotch. Finally the five minute third round came to an end with no submissions yet.

The crowded sweaty room applauded. It was a good, well attended fight night. The air conditioner had not had time to cool down the fighting room which was all impromptu. The fight ring was the standard king-sized mattress laid on a pre-fab ring base which could be broken down and fit into an SUV. Assembly required about twenty minutes plus the mattress. Four six foot tall padded poles formed the corners, elastic bands connected to corner pads that could be set on that hooked to the poles, and webbing attached to the elastic bands formed the ring keeping the action from falling through or under the sides. I have no idea how many hundreds of these things are tucked away in zipper bags all over the world. We didn?t have one, but five of the couples in our local community did.
On points I thought Karen had won the first round, but Fatima had taken round two and three and really laid on the tit pain. Karen had curly brown hair to her shoulders, brown eyes, lush lips, a round pleasing face, stood 5?6??, weighed 150 pounds, had a round belly and ass and stretch marks from three children, and at 38 years old still had nice big tits, 38Ds. Now these weren?t uplifted round globes like in porn movies. They were slabs of tit meat that flopped and hanged when she bent over.

We had been in swap clubs since our early twenties at her suggestion, stopping only when it was time to get pregnant. Even then the simple fact was that like at nudist camp, most the people you saw did not have porn bodies or look like the amazons in that movie. The men had fat sides, skinny legs, some had bellies and others even had man tits. The women could go from severe skinny with ugly tit jobs to enthusiastic BBWs with enough fat to survive the Long Night.
Fatima?s husband, a skinny Egyptian, wiped her sweaty face and gave her water, duplicating me. He also smoothed down her regulation fighting uniform, a white muscle shirt with no support for tits that hung down. There was no underwear. The purpose I suppose was to entice the exposure and then provide for glimpses of pussy or tit. Often the fights ended nude, one or both. And any fight without a submission in five five-minute rounds could at request of either combatant have a nude fifteen minute final round. The final round could also be requested by a woman behind by less than one submission at the end of five rounds. Most submissions won whenever the match ended. Fatima pointed at my wife and unleashed a torrent of curse words. Few women parted friends in our club.

Fatima stood 5?4?? and weighed 160. She had black hair to her big hippy ass, black eyes, a square mannish face, relatively broad shoulders and man hands that were a little scary. She was strong and thick without being hugely fat. Her longish C cup tits sagged deep into her tee and her belly was bigger and softer than Karen?s, yet underneath her fat she was as strong as or stronger than my wife and that combined with her happily brutal fighting style was worrying. I had no desire to be her fuck toy for a week and she had the look of a woman who wanted her ass licked all night long and I am not a high volume ass licker, or piss drinker for that matter.

The fourth round started with a body punching contest. They leaned into each other and pounded away. Very soon they were grunting with both the punching and getting punched. Fatima?s punches sank in deep to my wife?s fat hanging boobs. Karen?s fists went low into the belly reaching down for that incredible black fur covered mound. Their t-shirts were quickly plastered to the top of their jiggling asses. As before Fatima?s forward pressure forced my wife into the rope, but instead of getting trapped there, she sat back on the middle rope and kicked her right foot up between Fatima?s legs. A slap recorded the perfect impact of her top of her foot to the hairy sex of the Egyptian. The crowded groaned in sympathy as Fatima cried out and grabbed herself bending over.

Fatima started to right herself, but Karen had already grabbed the white t-shirt at her ribs and pulled it up and over. Fatima staggered blindly trying to free her arms, her big long brown boobs dangling from her chest. Karen gave her a down push on the head with one hand and a forward shove on the ass. Fatima sagged into the ring and went down ass up head down. She tried to sit up, but Karen jammed her right hand into the exposed big lipped dark brown rimmed crotch, a brutal stiff finger invasion of the dark pink flesh just exposed. Fatima?s how was drowned out by the roaring approval of the crowd.

Fatima twisted and turned trying to get out of the netting and protect herself. Karen grabbed her around the hips with her left arm and tried to ride the bucking woman while pumping four unfriendly fingers in and out of the wet smacking cunt. Already some of the couples that knew Karen?s reputation were yelling ?Cunt her!? Finally, Fatima flopped on her side and Karen went down across her hips. I?ll give my wife points for determination because she went for a fist full of pubes and pussy lips to keep her fingers from being broken by Fatima?s twisting on her side. Fatima hated that as well. It?s amazing and a little scary how much pussy flesh will stretch went savagely pulled.

Finally Fatima got her t-shirt off and seized my wife?s tangled sweaty hair from behind threating to pull her off her hip perch. As Fatima pulled hair she bent around my wife?s backside and went for Karen?s asshole. That got my wife to move. She tried to get on top, but Fatima rolled as soon as Karen shifted and took Karen?s leg out. They two of them punched and grabbed at each other?s bodies as they rolled back and forth seeking top position. Karen?s t-shirt got ripped deeper to where it was hanging from her shoulders and connected at the bottom seam.

Amazingly the fourth rounded ended with no submission, but Karen had definitely evened up the fight leaving Fatima nude with blood specks on her thighs and agony in her eyes. Karen had given her some deep cunt pain, the type inside that can?t be eased but only endured. Karen stripped off her t-shirt not wanting to give Fatima any strangling advantage, revealing some horrible bruising on the tits and belly. Her white skin showed the marks vividly, but you could see the same darkening under the skin of the Egyptian. Few of the fights got this tough, especially among strangers. The crowd was sure to rate it high and that would be noted by the mysterious app.

The fifth round began with another body punching battle. My wife?s punches sank deep into Fatima?s heaving lower belly hitting the top of her wild bush more than once. Fatima seemed determined to pop my wife?s tits with punches and forearms that had Karen?s fat flopping 38dds flying at different angles jiggling in unusual shapes and turning dark red where they were not already blue. Karen normally took tit pain pretty well, but she was close to her limit and her grotesquely colored and misshaped left nipple was dribbling pink lymph now, not to be mistaken for breast milk. Finally one of Karen?s womb busters bent Fatima over.

Karen slammed her elbow down on Fatima?s wet brown back and brought her right knee up toward the battered belly. The combination as well as Fatima?s weak knees put the Egyptian down hard on her hands and knees. The mattress kept them from fast kicks you might expect from a MMA ring. Rather than kick, my wife bent over, grabbed a handful of wet black hair plastered to Fatima?s back jerked up as she drove her right knee into the Egyptian?s ribs. The blow knocked Fatima off her knees and she fell on her side, pulling my wife by the fist in the woman?s own black hair. Karen landed clumsily across the woman?s left side.

Both were gasping and slowed, seemingly confused by exhaustion now, but the fight was still on. Karen twisted her hand deep in the black mane and jerked back pulling Fatima?s head back adding another bend to her spine. Karen managed a slow knee to the woman?s rolling breasts and then brought down her free hand in an open hand slap to the face which crossed Fatima?s nose as she turned up to look at her tormentor. Karen?s hand hit with a thud, the palm more of a strike than a slap, but neither Fatima, her husband or a member of the crowd objected. Fatima added to her contortions by rolling her shoulders almost flat on the mat. Her upper left hand snagged my wife?s hanging right breast and her right hand snaked into Karen?s wide open crotch.

Karen cried out, surprised that her victim was not helpless. She pulled the offending hand out of her crotch, but was now held in place by her own hold on Fatima?s mane and Fatima?s wrist. Fatima slid just enough to straighten her neck and put her left knee into Karen?s heaving belly just under her stretched out right tit. Fatima grunted and pulled brutally on the stretched out tit and pushed back with the knee. Karen squealed, releasing Fatima?s hair and now grabbing the second wrist to relieve her tit pain. The two struggled in place, sweat rolling off them, muscles trembling and bellies heaving for oxygen.

Karen finally screamed, ?Fuck this!? and slid along Fatima?s knee to fall across her ribs. Karen?s tit was pulled under her arm and her back was to Fatima?s face now. Releasing the Egyptian?s wrists she went straight for Fatima?s cunt with both hand. Fatima squealed and her legs straightened, kicking helplessly as her fat cunt lips were pinched, stretched, parted and penetrated. She tried to get to my wife?s ass or cunt by clawing at her white ass cheeks but her arm was not long enough.

The crowd was screaming for a cunting and my wife was doing her best to ruin the Egyptian, but despite her wailing screams Fatima refused to give it up. While everyone was focused on Fatima?s cunt, the determined bitch was literally tearing my wife?s nipple open. Karen screamed as her nipple cracked or tore, some of both actually, and a pressurized splash of hot lymph and blood squirted into the air. The crowd gasped. More than one woman sagged against someone having orgasmed at the sight of someone else?s agony and tit blood. Like I said, we were not your typical suburban gathering.

Tears running down her twisted face, Karen yelled like a banshee and ripped even more at Fatima?s cunt, ripping out wads of pubes exposing clawed and bruised pussy lips. Blood now coated my wife?s fingers and stained the mattress. Fatima cried out and her legs stiffened. I thought she might pass out but instead she just kept trying to pull my wife?s tit off under the arm, failing that, ruining the mauled nipple. Both were screaming so loud neither heard the end of the round.

The timekeeper finally got our attention. Each man went to his wife. It took us at least a minute to get their attention because they were on automatic pilot now, enduring and inflicting pain as if that was their only choices. We got them separated. Both sobbed in the fetal position in the corner further staining the mattress. The crowd buzzed. The timekeeper announced that no one had submitted and after a coin flip asked Fatima if she wanted a sixth round. Her husband did not bother to explain it to her. He shook his head negatively and suggested a draw. The crowd did not boo, but they were disappointed. They looked to us. Karen was whimpering wiping the blood that kept welling out of her nipple trying to determine the damage. I decided that a draw was good enough.

At least I would not have to lick Fatima?s ass. Because I?m not sure Karen would have lasted very long in a sixth round. The night wasn?t a total loss, I did get to participate in a gangbang of a member?s daughter who had lost a grudge match with her own mother. Because of Karen and Fatima?s fight we husbands were given second and third cock behind the girl?s father. That might not sound like much, but by the time the twenty-five guy had squirted into her she was a more of a hot mess cum bucket than a hot barely legal teen.

[ckftr116686]

Another great story from Mr. Cage !!