Rival Brides of the Sahara

[PiersKnight]

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Rival Brides of the Sahara
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This Novelette involves exceptionally large breasted women competitively fighting each other or forcing their breasts to fight in Titfights to establish dominance over other women. If this offends you read no further.

It does not matter how apparently soft a woman’s breasts are because when two pairs compress together they envelope each other and it becomes a matter of pride as to which pair of breasts will overwhelm the other. They take their support from supporting muscle tissue extending from the pectoral muscles and from a mesh of powerful ligaments known as Cooper’s ligaments which give the breasts strength, support and shape. Depending on the fitness and strength of these structures one woman could be either injured by fitter breasts or overwhelm a less fit woman’s breasts. Apart from that there are many other things going on. Apart from the surface fat the bulk of the female breast is glandular tissue, alveoli, clusters of milk glands known as nodules, expanding into collection points known as sinuses in the areolas which collect the milk before squeezing it through the multiple holes in the ******s - and all is bound and supported in that mesh of ligaments and fatty tissue which we all love to see. The firmer or harder the breasts are is usually down to the number and density of these glands, very firm glands can lead to the breast feeling as hard as stone and this is enhanced if these glands are put to work as with lactation, though glands as full as that can be painful.

However, when two fit women with exceptionally large breasts challenge each other these extra large ***** are exposed to a greater risk of injury than more modest breasts; the large glands misshaping the huge teardrop shaped breasts swelling out into huge bowling alley sized orbs, so big that the veins in the breasts are forced to the surface and prominently marble the expansive, broad and flawless surface. Needless to say, the jealousy some large breasted women feel at such an unspoken challenge can lead to them pitting their breasts against each other to try to either intimidate the rival or to fight her to establish who has the fittest, strongest, - better pair of breasts!

In my descriptive texts I tend to subdivide areas of the breast for ease of descriptive writing: **** refers to the areola and ****** area surmounting the orbs; ***** are the heavy round orbs extending from the breasts; Breasts are the whole teardrop shaped structure extending from the upper chest wall and swelling out into orbs, areolas and ******s.



This is the story of Aadil, a Taureg Arab man, a former nomad Camel trader who lives in Saharan Mali in Africa. His Animistic religion is somehow fused with the Muslim faith, though neither he or his wives are devout Muslims, they prefer to follow their traditional way of life and beliefs which, in this rapidly changing world is difficult enough.

Traditionally, his people are Polygamous, though it is at variance with Muslim laws. His four wives have given him fourteen children but he has a fetish regarding the bust women he favours as wives, - he likes to see them fight for him. Since being influenced by the Internet he has expanded his interest into the feminine art of Titfighting, women clashing and grinding their breasts together to establish dominance or superiority. Whilst breasts are relatively soft these fights can be very intense, very emotional, very painful and very humiliating in the event of defeat.

As I have said above “when two pairs (of breasts) compress together they envelope each other and it becomes a matter of pride as to which pair of breasts will overwhelm the other.” And “when two fit women with exceptionally large breasts challenge each other these extra large ***** are exposed to a greater risk of injury than more modest breasts; the large glands misshaping the huge teardrop shaped breasts swelling out into huge bowling alley sized orbs, so big that the veins in the breasts are forced to the surface and prominently marble the expansive, broad and flawless surface.”



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Rival Brides of the Sahara
Part one
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CHAPTER I
AUGUST

On the southernmost edge of the Sahara desert the weather burned a hot 100 degrees in Aadil’s village that August morning. Aadil’s wife Zaafira, a ‘white’ Tuareg woman, was certainly glad of the breeze which had blown in off the desert as she finished her morning chores outside the sand coloured Adobe house. The breeze stirred her dark Indigo coloured wraparound dress and her long Alasho turban, serving the functions of both veil and turban, protecting her from being lashed by the wind blown sand as she turned to go into the house.

The noise of the fourteen children playing rang out through the door and windows. It was A’ishah’s and Jaeda’s turn to supervise the kids today; so many of them were too young to go to school. So Zaafira decided she would have to have a word with her husband’s other wives about control and discipline. She glared daggers at the younger wives, which always disturbed them because the flash of her pale blue eyes were so piercing it almost felt like a physical stab. Her eyes were emphasised even more so because of her white coffee coloured skin. You would expect a woman with brown skin to have dark brown eyes, but Zaafira was unusual in that her eyes were a piercing blue which added to her stunning aquiline beauty.

She tossed her long black hair as she took her wind swept Alasho off, readjusted it and replaced it. The younger wives quickly brought the unruly children back under their control. In the western world Zaafira could have been a top model, though considering her voluptuous body she might have been more suited to lascivious videos or even ****. She had been the first wife, and as senior wife control of the household fell to her. She had been forced into marriage with Aadil at the age of 17 and four children (three of them blue eyed) and twelve years later she looked older than her 28 years. At 5’8” tall, an average height for women of her tribe, and 182 lbs in weight, her body and figure were still shapely though not as slim as they once were: “Well, let’s face it,” she thought, “I’ve got to lose 40 lbs.” Ironically, more half of that weight was her *****!

The consequences of child bearing had added a few more curves to her figure and left her with much bigger *****, but her own children weren’t the only ones to benefit from her bountiful, naturally enhanced milk bags. All of the women were required to observe the traditional hadith, which stipulates that “breastfeeding establishes a maternal bond, even if a woman breastfeeds a child who is not her own.” So all of the women feed each other’s children whenever necessary, which often causes some friction in the Harem between the women. Also under the terms of the hadith, they are also required to suckle any man of the tribe, should he desire it, though in practice, Aadil was very jealous of his privilege and did not allow other men to get too close to his wives.

Though the women had exceptional freedoms and a good way of life, they were virtually milk cows. But Aadil was obsessed with big ***** in another way. He extolled his wives to fight each other for his sexual favours, their busty apartment catfights, which displayed their milk laden **** to full advantage, really turned him on and he favoured the winner by suckling from her and ****ing her to her satisfaction, but a new fetish had begun to emerge; Over the past few years he had become turned on by the idea of Titfighting, a sport he had discovered on the Internet. Aadil was a lover of big ***** anyway, so he counted himself lucky to have four wives who were all well endowed and from time to time he would order two of them to fight with their breasts as weapons in front of him.

Despite the fact that their lactating ***** were uncomfortable and often painful to treat in this way they were pleased to oblige even though these bruising *** crushing matches could last for hours with both women getting extremely sore breasts. In fact, each of the women began to get satisfaction out of this by proving her **** to be better than her rivals by beating them, giving the winner a sense of superiority. This changed the dynamics of the household from a peaceful one to a highly competitive one in which once suppressed rivalries were now exposed and rife and never far from the edge of conflict. In time Aadil’s wives began to initiate fights themselves as a way of settling disputes. These **** fights would usually (but not always) be held with the women on their knees crushing their breasts together until one woman gave in. A second form of *** fight the women challenged each other to was a breast slapping fight to a painful finish, a remarkable sort of fight by women with such huge *****, and a third kind of fight which all the women liked was simply to wrestle naked.

Aadil’s wives were all from different groups of his extended family tribe, in fact they were all cousins and each displayed a major family trait on the female side, big breasts, thought of very highly by the men of the tribe as marking them out for child bearing and nurturing; indeed most Tuareg children are breastfed until the age of two and sometimes to the age of four. Though living deep in Mali, these traditional Tuareg’s ancestors came from the Atlas Mountains as Berbers, the ancestors of these Berber women are reputed to be the legendary Amazons of ancient history. With the onset of Arabs into North Africa, Islam came in and the Tuareg travelled South and mixed their animistic beliefs with Islam, but they were generally not traditionalists and their women do not generally cover their heads, it is the men who swathe their upper bodies and faces with an indigo coloured Alasho or Tagelmust turban as a mark of their seniority.

The women here are Olive skinned, not black and very, very beautiful with Caucasian facial features. In general, Tuareg skin colour is darker than most Mediterranean Berbers, and lighter than most sub-Saharan populations; in fact, these people refer to themselves as “Whites” and the dark skinned African or sub-Saharan Tuaregs as “Blacks,” who the Arab Tuaregs had kept as slaves since time immemorial. Aadil became smitten with a particularly busty black Saharawi woman, the tall, statuesque, pure Ebony coloured and gloriously well endowed Tamek, whom he got the idea of pitting against his wives and occasionally the black Saharawi ****** he picked up. As the older wife, it had fallen to Zaafira to fight this tall, beautiful, very firm breasted Saharawi slave girl completely naked.

The girl’s breasts were so firm and her ******s so hard in fact that Zaafira found the encounter extremely painful, but she persisted through a long punishing fight and beat the slave girl on that occasion, then lost two more! Over the course of a few weeks Tamek fought each of Aadil’s wives in turn, beating most of them and she eventually earned Aadil’s boyish devotion so much so that she became a serious threat to Aadil‘s wives. Zaafira and A’ishah solved the problem by secretly dragging her out of the house and beat her to a broken and bloodied pulp in the garden one dark night while Aadil was away on business, drove her into town to dump her and blamed the deed on Saharawi prostitutes.

Tuareg society is hierarchical, with nobility and vassals. Each Tuareg clan (tawshet) is made up of several family groups, led by their collective chiefs, the amghar. A series of tribes (tawsheten) may bond together under an Amenokal, forming a Kel clan confederation. The nomadic life was now in the past for Aadil’s family, he had inherited the family farm attached to the annex building designed to house his Harem of wives when his wealthy uncle died about ten years ago, but still kept his camels, they were almost like family to him. His wives worked the farm together.

Aadil, his name means ‘just’, and he considered himself to be so, Just and fair, especially in the way he treated his four wives. His favoured way of choosing wives could not be considered just, he knows what he likes and he likes women capable of multi child bearing ability and the ability to breastfeed his children to the age of 4 years old and beyond, so he wanted women with an hour glass body, deep, broad ***, wide child bearing hips, a slim waist and big ****, - the bigger the better. Aadil loved handling his wives big breasts and comparing them to see whose were best. It bemused him slightly that they changed in size, shape and bulk from month to month depending on the woman’s fertility status. He tried to satisfy all of wives every day, if he could, but the elders of his tribe were putting him under pressure to take unto himself at least one more wife.

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CHAPTER II

At the age of 47, Aadil considered that he was still up to the task and, of course his tribe and family considered lots of children as a mark of success; each one of his four wives variously had 3 or 4 children each, but his women were very resentful, jealous and competitive. Aadil deviously used this to persuade them to Titfight each other. With each wife having big breasts, none of them smaller than ‘HH’ cup, and his bustiest wife having a very shapely and productive ‘M’ cup, Aadil was more than happy to have them disport themselves in front of him. Ba’s HH cup breasts were the smallest, but she had power and strength having great arm and leg strength, which stood her in good stead during a fight and she was a good worker on the farm and about the house.

A’ishah is the lively one, (her chest endowments measuring in at a 36 ‘J’ cup), lively, because she had physically fought the woman closest in breast size to herself, Jaeda, with her 36 KK cup *****. Despite being full of goodness and good intentions, she was the biggest ***** around! Zaafira is probably the most sympathetic. She is Aadil’s first wife, strong, successful in whatever she does and usually victorious. She was young when they married, but then, so was he. Now Zaafira was the oldest, but though she was now 28 she was probably the most attractive, her younger 20 something rivals being in awe of her ‘M’ cup breasts. In her ankle length dark blue dress and Alasho covering her head and shoulders she looked shapeless, but underneath these baggy shapeless clothes the truth could not be more different.

Even after the birth of her children Zaafira had regained her luscious hourglass shape, broad hips, a comfortably slim waist and huge breasts, made bigger by the fact of lactating. Her 38 inch rib cage supports her massive M cup breasts giving her a generous 57 inch bust, her thick suckling ******s still pertly facing forwards. Her slim body beneath these impressive mammaries was pleasing with her 32 inch waist and 42 inch hips. She was extremely curvaceous, but unable to show herself off due to Islamic tradition. Still, Aadil was not poor and he bought her some stylish but strong bras, bustiers and Basques as he did for all of his wives. Her favourite was a black lace balcony bra with pale blue inlay to match her eyes, which lifted her ***** out in front of her, though even under her shapeless dress she dare not wear this in public! But, she was pushing her senior wife status and had started tightly belting her dress, which emphasised her hips and her *****, even to the extent of allowing her permanently erect ******s to swell out the front, very much against Islamic law, “but what the heck?!” she thought. She could throw a shawl across her top if necessary.


Aadil had not yet told his wives of the directive for him to find yet another wife, if not two more! He wanted to follow his usual rules on make and shape, especially in the breasts. His new wife would preferably be in her 20’s and he wanted Zaafira and some of his other wives to help him to choose. Friends from within the Tribe had arranged to send their daughters. Aadil would never have seen them before, swathed as they are in their cool Alasho or blue indigo veils and wrap around skirts. It would be a privilege for him and his wives to see these women in the raw. He had only recently become connected to the Internet and he read in a French online newspaper that English women seemed to grow the biggest natural breasts in the world; it was probably due to diet, but he decided he wanted an English wife. He commissioned the Berber Slaver, Kahn, who had procured him the black Saharawi slave girls he desired.

Aadil had developed a love of Titfighting from studying the Internet and one thing he admires is women who are good at breast fighting, so, as far as he was concerned, all his women just HAD to have big firm ****. From time to time, two of his busty wives would agree to an all-out *** fight in front of him. A’ishah and Jaeda were the last to fight for him, though he had noticed that his first love was becoming restless and, though she had not done it for two years, she wanted to breast fight one of her big breasted rivals. Aadil was trying to imagine Zaafira and Jaeda going at it, but he did promise Zaafira a busty English girl to fight with. His reverie was broken by a knock on his door from one of his neighbours and his busty daughter, his erection was so large that he could not move at first. He switched off his computer and the images of the busty women he had been studying.

A 10 inch boner was difficult to tuck away inconspicuously. Now, when he saw how much the beautiful Ra’isa swelled out her plain dark green dress, it sprang to attention once again. Her name means Leadress, Matron, and she certainly promised a matronly figure. He could not wait to strip her and see how she compares to his wives. She was the exact same height as Zaafira, though at first she looked taller, but it transpired that she was wearing 2 inch heels.

Ba’s, with her HH cup breasts, A’ishah’s J cup *****, Jaeda’s KK cup **** and the biggest breasted of them all M cup Zaafira his first wife, were perfect examples of womanhood as far as Aadil was concerned and as they all obeyed the summons to view Aadil’s new busty potential wife, each wondered how much of a threat she would be to their comfortable way of life. Zaafira knew that as the bustiest woman and his first wife, she would be expected to fight the extremely pert Ra’isa with her breasts for Aadil’s entertainment after testing her out in the Harem, though she knew that this could be more sinister than it seemed, - as the older wife if she lost she could find herself cast out of the Harem, the shame of which could be too much to bear. She had done her job, kept her husband satisfied and produced four children for him, each of which caused her once virginal firm ***** to grow and become extremely milky. It was expected by the tribe that each child would be breast fed until the age of four, and though the women’s **** were now very big and heavy Aadil would not hear of any of them ceasing to produce milk as he loved all four of his wives milk so much himself.

Zaafira and Aadil had been married for almost twelve years now and she was still only 28, though she looked older and mockingly referred to by the younger wives as tamghart or ‘old woman.’ The most frequently heard kinship term is abobaz, denoting ‘cousin,’ which is how Zaafira referred to the younger wives, who actually are her cousins.

Aadil had taken to himself a new wife every two years from within the clan and in fact, he had only married Jaeda just two years ago and the Titfight Zaafira and Jaeda had fought upon Jaeda’s acceptance had been epic! Two women with such big breasts were no less than spectacular in a naked Titfight, but both women afterwards petitioned their husband to make this the last naked breast fight as their breasts became so injured. And so, Zaafira decided upon a breast to breast fight supported by strong bras. She assumed that Aadil would approve. Zaafira had not always had such big *****, but she did not blame her genes or pregnancy alone for their growth; in all the years she had worked on the farm the chickens had been fed growth hormones and she could not help but wonder if she had also been affected by this, - and since the other women had come to work with her their breasts were also gradually growing. Admittedly, they had all had Aadil’s children and fed the veritable army of kids from their breasts, but still she retained her suspicions.

If Aadil elected to marry Ra’isa he would soon busy himself in getting Ra’isa pregnant, but for now he would want to test her, probably against each of his busty wives - one at a time over a period of a week starting with his first wife. Zaafira discovered that, unusually, after being given a day to settle in, Ra’isa would be expected to fight one wife each day - and she was the first.

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CHAPTER III

The day of the fight all too quickly arrived. The women were changing in a bedroom, their hostile gazes measuring each other up, looking for advantage through weakness. Their eyes scoured every inch of each other’s body. In this kind of fighting using their breasts as weapons the women agreed to keep their bras on, not only for the sake of decency, but because their ***** were so large they virtually demanded it. Zaafira also thought the robust balconette bras she favoured evened things up a bit. Considering the incredible pertness and firmness of Ra’isa’s breasts she was no doubt right. With their fully supportive soft padded under-wired cups which lifted and separated both breasts so that they stuck out straight in front of the women like twin torpedos, these bras displayed their cleavages to maximum advantage.

Zaafira tossed a balconette bra to the extremely firm breasted Ra’isa and demanded that she put it on. Ra’isa put it on and it really lifted her ***** and when she put a fresh blouse or Buba (a loose fitting blouse) it looked positively pornographic as it showed her heavily gland enriched areolas and thick hard ******s punching through all that material in detail.

As the older woman, Zaafira felt she would be lying to herself were she not to admit to being afraid of losing to this firm breasted younger woman. What would her position and prospects be worth if she were to lose? She, who had won all of the Titfights her husband had demanded of her against his other wives and busty women, including black Saharawi women slaves (apart from Tamek) obliged to live their lives in servitude, which Aadil had kept not only as domestic slaves but as sexual slaves open to his rampant sexual appetites. She had had to fight like **** against these busty black women, some nearly as busty as her to maintain her position. Inevitably, Aadil and some like minded friends engaged some of these slave women to fight each other, then when Aadil became smitten with a particularly busty Saharawi woman, the tall, statuesque and gloriously well endowed Tamek, he got the idea of pitting her against his wives and occasionally Saharawi ****** he had secretly brought into the house at the dead of night. Divested of their colourful robes normally swathing them from head to foot they were very attractive when naked. Zaafira had several bruising titfights with this tall, beautiful, very firm breasted Saharawi slave girl, as did A’ishah with her spectacular J cup *****. Zaafira had smaller ***** in those days, and it was quite a while since Aadil’s wives had to fight the black slave girls.




As first wife, Zaafira would breast fight Ra’isa first in front of the harem, then again in front of Aadil, and if the girl was still up to it, the other wives would breast fight her one by one. If however, Zaafira thoroughly beat the girl up, she would be sent away. Then the next would-be wife would be selected by Aadil. As Aadil’s fetishes became ever more eccentric it became much more exhausting and demanding on his wives.

The fight was on and both women entered the communal Harem annex to fight in front of all the women of the extended family. 29 year old Zaafira wore her black lacy blue inlaid balcony bra which lifted her heavy ***** like a couple of boulders in front of her, she let her long black hair down so that it cascaded across her shoulders and curled across her broad engorged breasts. Ra’isa, her 20 year old rival, who’s ***** turned out to be 38L cup, (55-56” bust) wore a white balcony bra and allowed her long dark hair the freedom to drape around her shoulders. These two beautiful women with their spectacular figures were breathtaking. The assembled crowd of women dressed in their colourful wrap around skirts with their matching headscarves, danced as though at a festival while the fighters circled one another in the middle of the sweltering room.

The temperature was over 100 f+ outside and four women instrumentalists and singer had taken their seats on cushions around the floor near the cool ochre coloured walls playing traditional Tuareg instruments, - the moncord violin ‘anzad’ played often during night parties and a small tambour covered with goatskin called a ‘tende,’ a bigger, deeper tambour, an Odili flute made from the trunk of sorghum, and a wooden Gidga played with iron sticks. The singer launched into the traditional tasikisikit and asak songs. The hypnotic sound swept over the two fighters and seemed to take possession of them as they confronted one another, psyching each other out. Dark brown eyed Ra’isa was stunned by Zaafira’s piercing blue eyes and her cold stare disturbed her. No trash talk was possible because of the loud music. the other women dancing around the room were also affected and the music had the effect of a narcotic drug.

The other women, Aadil’s wives and female relatives, all laughing and colourfully dressed made their way onto the cushions scattered around the barn sized room. The small band continued to play their mesmerising music and all the women began to chant for Ra’isa and Zaafira to Titfight. Hands on hips, the two busty women clashed their massively protruding **** together and the room erupted with cheering. Their balcony bras under serious stress, the women circled each other staring fiercely into each other’s eyes, each woman trying to position herself for the most advantageous breast ram. Another slam of huge **** caused another loud roar from the crowd, then another and another. Wet patches began to appear through Zaafira’s white Buba as her milk began to leak through her bra. Ra’isa was encouraged at what she saw and thought that Zaafira’s **** would give first due to increased sensitivity. But the *** ramming battle continued until the two eventually got each other in a bear hug and really mashed their **** together. Pretty soon both women’s blouses were soaked with sweat and Zaafira’s milk; their hefty bras were beginning to disintegrate as stitching began to burst. Sweating heavily, the two fighters raised spontaneous cheers as they both peeled off their soaked blouses and tossed them to the crowd. The instrumentalists silenced their instruments as they agreed on what music to play.

Standing two or three feet apart, face to face, their hands on their hips, Zaafira thrust her chest out, breasts sticking out a tremendous distance in her bustier corset, pulled her abdomen in and looked Ra‘isa up and down contemptuously. “Once you’ve had a child and your breasts are milking Aadil won’t leave you alone you know!” She said loudly. “In fact, he’ll take more than the child ensuring that your ***** grow bigger than you had ever planned, but no way are your ***** ever gonna be better than mine!” Zaafira said. “I’ll make sure of that!” she added ominously. “I am top wife and Titfight Queen around here!” Shouts of dissent and approval and some wild whooping went around the audience.

“Huh!” Ra’isa said pushing her **** out as far as they would go, they easily rivaled Zaafira’s, even though she was almost 2 inches shorter than Zaafira: “I don’t like your threats! My boobies are L cup already; they are firm and strong and will beat your saggy old bags easily!” She asserted.

Cheering burst from the crowd.

“What size were your **** when you came here?” Ra’isa asked.

“I was a H cup, but children made them grow the five cup sizes you see today!” Zaafira said cupping her huge ***** beneath her bra.

Wild cheering came from the crowd. Zaafira could not work out if this was genuine cheering or toadying to remain on her good side. Even after all these years and all her Titfights she still loved it. Her excited ******s were pushing out the material of her bra cups in anticipation of resumption of their fight; she surreptitiously manipulated her breasts to make her mountainous areolas and ******s even more prominent. Milk began to dribble afresh from their tips.



“Yeah, well, I’m an L cup. Just imagine how much bigger and better mine will be in a few years with my babies and husband suckling them, then I shall be Breast Queen!” Ra’isa said jealously picking up her own huge ***** to attract everyone’s attention to them. Her young firm **** stuck out naturally like twin torpedoes.

“Yes, but you have to face ME NOW in a Titfight!!!” Zaafira added quickly to suppress any more support for Ra’isa, but enthusiastic cheering erupted anyway.

“How many Titfights am I going to be involved in before Aadil chooses a wife?” Zaafira thought.

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CHAPTER IV

Each busty woman walked forwards, **** thrust out in their balcony bras, their hands adding extra support and lift to their heavy breasts until their ***** just squashed together. Breathing into one another’s face the women just stood allowing their ***** to compress, testing them, testing their strength, firmness, flesh density, density of glandular tissues, - which are more solid and firmer than fat, - feeling for weaknesses in their glands and breast fat. The Titfight in their Bubas had strengthened their *****.

Now staring into each other’s face; “Whose **** are the best do you think?” Ra’isa said, more than an edge of aggression in her voice. “Mine I think!” she added and suddenly, violently pushed forwards with her ****. Zaafira was shoved backwards a step, but quickly moved forwards again to push Ra’isa backwards a step. Now both stood their ground, their **** pressed together, both women twisting at the waist and knees to grind their **** into each other. Even in their hefty bras both women could feel their voluptuous flesh pulling from side to side.

The women pushed each other backwards as their **** fought, grinding the thick breast flesh in all directions for what seemed like an interminable time. The audience of women watching, aware of the physical cost of this kind of titfight, chanted and called for their champion to prevail. After 15 minutes or so of this, their **** were rubbed raw and each woman dropped her **** and took a step backwards. Zaafira‘s bra was wet where her breast milk had soaked through. “This is where I become Queen now!” Ra’isa said looking contemptuously at Zaafira‘s wet bra.

Standing face to face, their hands now resting lightly on the backs of their hips, each woman began to twist gently from side to side, their huge ***** cutting through the air. Stepping closer to each other, their **** swept across each other, causing a buzz of excitement in each breast. They swung back the other way and their ***** swished across each other so hard as to wrench their ***** aside. Both women gasped and repeated the move, twisting the other way. Audible thuds of large heavy ***** almost a foot and a half long whacking each other could be heard clearly in the noisy room, electric with anticipation. The women’s heavy ***** compressed and contorted over and over again, their breasts becoming dented, glands inside their **** taking the brunt of the battle as they squashed, bruised and began to swell, especially Zaafira’s more sensitive glands.



Aadil’s wives swayed in their seats as the traditional Tuareg music started up again and the rhythmic, frenetic pace of the goatskin ‘tambours’ accompanied by the moncord violin, the ‘anzad’ helped to liven up the proceedings. This wild music inspired the breast fighting women to fight all the harder, because now they stood right back as they swung their bra supported ***** at each other. Each swing hit with accuracy. Another tight grinding session followed as they both leant into each other, their bra covered ***** splaying out sideways, the stitching on their balcony bras ripping, unable to cope with all the bulging breast flesh. Their huge **** mounded upwards towards their chins as well as oozing out through the rips in their bras. Zaafira’s **** were a lot more sensitive on account of them lactating. They were much bigger than normal because she had not milked them last night or this morning to ensure that they were bigger and firmer than her rival’s virginal ****. In fact, they were like a pair of boulders on her chest and equally hard to the touch, as they appeared to be bursting out of and spilling over her bustier. “If I can finish this fight while they are still hard that will do!” she thought, gritting her teeth against the increasingly painful engorgement.

Ra’isa’s firm ***** were in some pain on account of the pressure of the women’s breasts squashing together and injuring their underlying glands. Their ******s pressing each other backwards against their swelling glands caused immense pain and began to squeeze Zaafira’s milk laden engorged glands mercilessly. Zaafira grimaced with pain as Ra’isa laughed in her face. Zaafira swore at her through gritted teeth, vowing to beat her. The women’s areolas, tightly pressed together caused their hard ******s to gouge deeply into one another’s swollen areolas. Being more demonstrative, Ra’isa began to scream above the volume of the music and the excited crowd, to deliberately provoke the crowd. Zaafira could feel the extreme pressure on her glands and began to scream too, at last able to vent the pain in her sore *****, the familiar tingling burned deeply through her **** and a massive Letdown reflex began.

She felt the warm liquid dribble at first, then gush from her ******s and it ran down her belly soaking her bustier bra and her wrapper/skirt. The milk soaked waistband of her wrapper came loose and she feared that the skirt would fall, nonetheless, she began dragging her **** from side to side across Ra’isa’s, their ******s being torn over the tops of their bustier’s in the process. Zaafira’s milk began to soak into Ra’isa’s bra. “On heat *****!!!” Ra’isa accused Zaafira. Just then, Zaafira’s ******s literally spurted streams of milk through the weave of her bustier bra. “You want on heat?” Zaafira yelled. “Try this!” she said as her wrapper skirt finally fell to the floor, ripping Ra’isa’s off her with one deft sweep of her right hand. In the same instant she angrily rammed her **** flat into Ra’isa’s ***** and followed through by thrusting her ****** against Ra’isa’s. The crowd cheered wildly at these escalations.

Ra’isa screamed as her **** were pushed upwards, her ******s, already over the top of her bustier, popped out of it altogether and pointed upwards. The crowd went wild, then Ra’isa screamed even louder as Zaafira pounded her ****** again, much harder this time. “AAAGGHHH!!!” both women gasped as the blow hurt both of them. Both now pumped their luscious ***** back and forth over and over as they pounded each other’s mound. Ra’isa and Zaafira gripped each other‘s shoulders and glared with hate into each other’s eyes, - and they knew this battle was primal. Their legs parted, each woman leaned backwards preventing herself from falling by gripping the other woman’s shoulder tightly, then they both thrust their pubic mounds at each other.

Their open ******’s smacked painfully together, then again, their engorged *****’s pressing together momentarily. They began to swell, another slam followed, a wet “SMACK!” sounded and ******l fluid dripped onto the floor. Another ram had their *****s tangle again, but now Zaafira ground her excited ******** into Ra’isa’s. Ra’isa gasped as their grinding *****’s seemed to try to swallow each other. Both women shouted out in pain, as both splatted their ******s together once more, holding them in contact for several spine tingling seconds this time while they rubbed them around each other’s inflamed *****’s.

Both were screaming as unstoppable sensations tore through their bodies, their battling clits became over stimulated as they ground them together, the erect probes gouging each other‘s most sensitive areas. Zaafira concentrated on a clockwise configuration, while Ra’isa preferred the up and down method. Both women were almost passing out by now, their breasts were pressed so tightly together the excess flesh was squeezed out between their chests, both upwards towards their throats and sideways. Both women were groaning piteously as their ******s registered sensory overload. To break this unbearable escalation, Zaafira pushed Ra’isa away and rammed her **** as hard as she could. Both sets of enormous ***** bounced and swung as they separated, then Ra’isa angrily reciprocated. Their breasts pounded head on for several blows, their erect, hard ******s punching deep inside one another’s areolas. Although Zaafira could feel that her areolas were exceptionally sore, as hypersensitive as they had become, she could also feel that Ra’isa’s virginal breast tissue was softening and yielding to her more dense and fully lactating glands.

The assembled people cheered as the fight grew ever more violent and intense as the women stumbled around the room ramming each other’s breasts and pubic mounds. As the fight progressed the instrumentalists drove up the gear with popular takamba music, characteristic for its Afro-Berber percussions. The rhythms excited the fighters and spurred them on.

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CHAPTER V

The broad wet circles over Zaafira’s plump areolas grew much larger as milk gushed afresh from her ******s through her split bustier. Ra’isa laughed contemptuously as the milk variously spurted, then dripped through the material “This will be you one day!” Zaafira angrily gasped as she upped the stakes by giving Ra’isa’s left *** a hard smack with her own right breast. “Owww!” Ra’isa gasped as she jumped back a step. Zaafira advanced and twisting her waist slammed her left breast directly into Ra’isa’s right. Ra’isa felt her areola flatten. She was surprised as she thought that Zaafira’s milky areolas would be too sensitive.

Zaafira was not going to tell this presumptuous ***** about the steroid anesthetic pills she had taken to dull breast pain (mastalgia) and to reduce her lactating breast sensitivity. This was necessary as far as she was concerned because her sensitive lactating **** put her at a huge disadvantage otherwise and this levelled things up. But she was surprised at the advantage this seemed to give her as she whacked breast after breast against Ra’isa’s reddening mammaries, not that Zaafira’s **** were not reddening too, in fact they were glowing like beacons though she could hardly feel it anymore

In desperation Ra’isa grabbed the front of Zaafira’s gaping bra cups and began trying to rip them off her. Zaafira got an arm around Ra’isa’s neck and tried to wrestle her to the floor, but this only led to Ra’isa slapping, punching and grabbing at her breasts while liberating the monstrous *****. There was a loud rip as the bra tore asunder. Zaafira looked dolefully at the torn remains of her bra. She had had enough of this and began punching and scrabbling at Ra’isa’s **** with her free hand as she tried to grab one of the outsize mammary glands. As Ra’isa pulled back she succeeded in ripping the front completely off Zaafira’s bra and as the older woman’s huge firm breasts bounced free Ra’isa pulled the ripped remains of her own sweat soaked, virtually transparent bra off and threw it across the room. There were gasps from the audience as her huge reddened breasts swung free, then gasped even more at Zaafira’s huge reddened ***** swinging free as she also tore the remains of her bustier off and squirting two graceful arcs of milk as they did so.

Zaafira flung her arms around Ra’isa’s neck and Ra’isa did the same to Zaafira. This allowed their bulbous ***** complete freedom to fight as they clashed violently together. As the now naked women wrestled each other around the room, their **** clashing continuously. The 38L cup (56 inch) **** of Ra’isa’s battled the 38M cup (57 inch) **** of Zaafira. Ra’isa’s 17 inch long boobies were battering Zaafira’s 19 inch pendulous ***** like fleshy clubs. The resounding smacks against the resolutely firm ***** even sounded above the volume of the band. Tiring, Ra’isa grabbed the taller woman’s hair at the back of her head and began to force her face downwards with the intention of kneeing her in the face, but Zaafira reciprocated and grabbed Ra’isa’s hair. Zaafira’s huge, 19 inch long ***** hung downwards from her chest and swung violently as the women pulled each other around the room. Both women’s huge udders swinging back and forth were just too much to ignore. Despite bruises from their breast fight now smothering their breasts for all to see, scratches began to appear where their finger nails caught as they tried to grab hold of each other’s swinging breasts, Ra’isa’s aim was to grab those luscious dark brown areolas and squeeze them dry.

The crowd were suddenly surprised as loud slapping ensued as the women fought to grab each other’s pendulous ***** until they were slapped red raw. As their hands and arms fought to grab flesh their areolas and ******s were swelling up as the stimulation of them continued, sweat was flicking liberally from Ra’isa’s breasts, whilst sweat and milk flicked from Zaafira’s **** spattering the floor and Ra’isa’s legs up to her waist with white spots. The women eventually pulled each other vertical again and they literally pulled each other around the room until Ra’isa managed to throw Zaafira over her hip. The older woman hit the floor heavily, but keeping hold of Ra’isa’s neck as she went down, pulled her on top of her. Now breast to breast the two women, bad temperedly pulling each other’s hair, rolled each other across the floor screaming like wildcats, their huge **** compressing one another, the excess breast flesh mushrooming out between them. As they reached the other side of the room, their knees tried pounding one another’s red raw gaping cunts, so wide open the swollen *****’s were clear for all to see. Another “SPLATT!!” accompanied by a shriek indicated that Zaafira’s knee had found Ra’isa’s wet *****’s. Now Zaafira shrieked as Ra’isa tugged viciously on her hair.

As each woman reached out for handfuls of her rival’s hair this action brought the two of them together and their massive ***** pressed fiercely together. But between furious bouts of tearing at one another’s hair, they viciously twisted each other’s ******s. The women continued to roll around the floor pulling hair, their huge breasts flopping and slapping around the floor as well as compressing each other when breast to breast, their bodies locked together, their powerful legs entwined and locked up and both women with their hands buried in each other’s hair. The pressure each was inflicting on her rival’s ***** was causing immense damage. Their areolas were rubbed raw, their ******s were splitting, their milk glands were rupturing, Zaafira’s milk gushed from her ******s, their breast flesh was bruising and the pressure of crushing the huge poundage of breast meat against their chests were making it so that neither woman could breathe. Nearing exhaustion, and after some more rolling they just lay there pulling the **** out of each other’s hair, both women with tears of pain, frustration, anger and determination in their eyes, each woman desperately wanting to win in front of all the women and their guests, screaming as hair was pulled out on both of their heads. Then after another 10 minutes of this Ra’isa said she couldn't go on. The women let go of each other’s hair and rolled apart, both of them in tears of pain and anger.

Both now raised to their knees, the women faced each other again. Ra’isa finally achieved her aim and grasped both saucer sized areolas in clawed hands, her fingers crushed inwards against the plump lobules and lactiferous ducts within forcing a powerful spray from each ****** which showered her face and chest liberally. Zaafira screamed at the pain, the worst she had ever experience in all her years of fighting other women, but she also had a firm grip on Ra’isa’s areolas and now it was her turn to scream. Zaafira formed claws with her hands and gripped both of Ra’isa’s plump areolas so hard that her fingers were sinking deep into the thick flesh. Ra’isa screamed at the intense pain then reciprocated to pay Zaafira back. Their fingers buried up to their knuckles in each other’s breast flesh made each woman begin to lose her hold as they almost lost consciousness. Ra’isa collapsed onto her right hip and tried to roll away from Zaafira, making certain to keep her tight hold on Zaafira’s fat areolas.

Now on her left side Zaafira ******d both of Ra’isa’s ******s and began stretching, pulling and twisting them cruelly. Both women were yelling out in pain. The audience were now on their feet yelling for either one or the other to win. The screaming women rolled slowly towards the opposite ochre painted stucco wall, squeezing and pulling each other’s ******s out to a massive extent while still trying to knee each other’s groin. Ra’isa concentrated on trying to milk Zaafira’s **** pulling, pumping and twisting her ******s and alternately grasping and twisting her plump areolas forcing her big fat milk glands to squirt their diminishing lactate.

Zaafira angrily redoubled her vicious *** torture of Ra’isa’s ****, twisting and contorting her dough like **** into innumerable shapes. Ra’isa’s virginal **** made no milk, she had never been pregnant, but transparent yellow fluid began to seep from her ******s tinged with blood. This was a final battle of attrition as each fought to outlast her rival’s pain threshold. Their heavy grunting was replaced by desperate screams -- until finally, -- Ra’isa bawled “STOP... NO, NO ... YOU WIN!... YOU WIN. STOP PLEEEEAASE ... YOU’RE DESTROYING MY ****.”

Both women’s **** were in agony, but Zaafira was not going to let her rival know her pain. Zaafira mounted Ra’isa’s womanly body and intensified her ****** twisting: “So who has the best ****?”. she said.

“YOO DO!” Ra’isa yelled as her **** burned in agony.

“And who is the **** QUEEN?” she said.

“YOU ARE!” Ra’isa said reluctantly. “NOW GET OFF ME YOU FAT COW!!!!” she added. But Zaafira continued to sit astride Ra’isa squeezing and stretching her ******s.

“WHAT did you call me you stinking *****?” Zaafira said, enjoying the longer arm reach her taller build gave her.

“Just GET OFF ME!!!” Ra’isa demanded.

“Not until you respect me for the superior woman I am!” Zaafira insisted, then twisted Ra’isa’s ******s in opposite directions.

Two of Aadil’s other wives came to pull Zaafira off of Ra’isa.
A’ishah and Jaeda grabbed Zaafira by her arms and persuaded her to concede gracefully. Realising that the steroid pain killers she had taken had desensitized her **** to some extent, she conceded.

The tribal music was drowned out by the women’s cheering. Rarely had they seen two such well endowed women fight until they were naked and both marked with bruises and scratches to the extent they were, especially their tortured breasts. A’ishah and Jaeda reminded Zaafira the she and Ra’isa had to fight again tomorrow in private in front of Aadil. Zaafira looked silently heavenwards as if saying “Allah give me strength, - and strengthen my sore aching ***** so that I will not be thrown out into the street!” Ba’s whispered to the other two wives that she did not think ‘the old woman’ was up to it.

Ra’isa declined fighting with any other of Aadil’s wives, the women had fought a brutal *** busting fight for more than 40 minutes and she could hardly wait to get dressed and get out of there, but she let Zaafira know pointedly that she was looking forwards to beating her in tomorrows fight in front of Aadil. Zaafira ruefully examined the bruises and scratches to her still proud and firm breasts and, examining her ravaged and depleted areolas, the milk ducts now virtually squeezed dry and her sore, bleeding, red raw ******s, vowed to beat Ra’isa once and for all.

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CHAPTER VI

The following day, Aadil’s wives listened with interest and concern as they heard, through the adjoining wall, the fury of the second fight going on in Aadil’s lounge. After more than an hour and a half of intense battle they were all shocked to learn that Ra’isa had won this second fight, payback for her **** busting and *** busting, no doubt. Both women’s genitals and **** were still swollen and sore when they began the fight, but now that it was over, Zaafira had to take to her bed as she was temporarily incapacitated. Their bodies and faces were bloody, Ra’isa’s right eye was badly injured and blood poured down her face. Worse still, their breasts were bloodied and covered in so many swollen bruises there would not be space to lay a 10 cent piece! Zaafira’s previously engorged, firm breasts now hung like half empty sacks, while Ra’isa’s breasts, though bruised and bloodied, were still firm.

“I heard that their booby fight turned into a vicious catfight!” A’ishah said.
“Yes, and I heard that they started to fight topless but their wrappers fell to the floor exposing their nakedness!” Jaeda giggled.

“It was a tough booby swinging fight,” said Ba’s, “And their **** really beat each other up!” A’ishah and Jaeda gasped at this.

“Ra’isa swung her young firm breasts so hard they turned Zaafira’s old lactating saggies black and blue!” Ba’s said. “Then she squeezed her strong ******s so deeply into Zaafira’s that much milk soon covered the floor as Ra‘isa squeezed them dry!”

“How do you know this?” the other two wives said.

“I was hiding just behind the screen door and I heard everything, every gasp, every shriek, every grunt, every **** smack and every single word,” she said. “I was able to see through the lattice if I stood on tip-toes.”

“I am surprised Zaafira did not win! Her 19 inch long M cup ***** are a lot heavier than Ra’isa’s L cup *****!” Jaeda said, “And those 19 inch long **** flying through the air really hurt! - I know from when I last fought her,” she added. “I’m not saying that Ra’isa’s breasts were not beaten black and blue, - they were, but Zaafira was beaten to the floor where she passed out from the pain!!!” Ba’s said! “I had to take medicine to her later and I have seen how swollen with bruises her **** are! But they are like empty bags squeezed empty of their milk.” Ba’s concluded.

“I wonder what other dumb cow is next on the list?” Jaeda said, peeved at not getting her chance to fight busty Ra’isa; she would have loved to play with those big fat ****! “Not to worry. As Aadil will probably now marry Ra’isa because she beat Zaafira, you will get the chance to fight her in the future” A’ishah reassured Jaeda.

“I heard that Aadil is getting a European *****!” Ba’s said conspiratorially. They come with really big **** from Europe you know. I read that English girls grow the biggest ***** in the world!!!” Ba’s said with enthusiasm.

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That night Aadil was on the phone to push his agent, Amaziah Khan, to bring him a busty English or European girl who he could use to Titfight his wives, then possibly marry her afterwards.

Two more potential wives turned up over the next three weeks and both were dispatched by three of Aadil’s wives in Titfights. Zaafira was being rested. Aadil enthusiastically saw all of these potential wives fight A’ishah, Ba’s and Jaeda. After that, Ba’s was banned from any more fighting as she was found to be pregnant.

The following week, a huge celebration took place as Aadil married Ra’isa.
Impatient as ever, Aadil was on the phone to Kahn again on his wedding night. He listened with lust welling up inside him as Kahn described the busty blonde English woman he had met in Gran Canaria off the West African coast. He was sure that she would satisfy Aadil’s untamable lusts.

Tuareg people - Wikipedia
Sexual slavery - Wikipedia
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Copyright ? 2010. Piers Knight.