The fight story called Face Fight

[FightyBitey73]

Have been trying to find a story I read years ago that I think was called Face fight.


Was a very savage death fight between a female crime lord and a female police officer. They were captured and put in frames and then the frames were wheeled together and they fought face to face biting, head butting etc,


Anyone know where it might be found or even if I have the right name for it?

[Henklul07]

The dark, damp room only had one light hanging overhead. It was dim, flickering with a distracting buzz. Water dripped from somewhere unseen, splashing into a puddle of liquid outside of the light source. It was cold, frigid even. Wherever this was, it was clear to Tasha that this was not a place meant for human habitation. She felt like she was going to freeze to death in here.

The woman, Tasha, was alone in the room. Strapped to a mechanism that looked to her like a workout machine, or chiropractor's tool than anything used to restrain someone. Though, it did the job. She found herself bound to it with hard, metal wires that bit into her flesh, parting her legs, and pulling her arms back behind her in the most uncomfortable position. Her head and neck leaned forwards, the weight of the mechanism held her upright, tilting her to where her face dangled over nothing. She felt like she could fall at any second, but after a full day in this dark room she got over that fear. It held her tight, and she knew she wasn't going to fall... not without a show for her captors, anyways.

Tasha was a cop. Had been most of her life now. She couldn't imagine doing anything else, but hell, that was how she got stuck hanging here. After a sting gone wrong, Tasha found she was the one being set up by the cartel. They knew she was police, and after a shootout, she found herself taken alive. The last thing she could have ever wanted was to be taken alive. She heard horror stories about what they did to people who crossed them, and Tasha had been crossing them for years.

Her death was coming. She knew that much by the dried blood on the floor of this dank cell. But, what exactly were they going to do to her? She didn't know, but she did know someone would watch. She was nude, and the bindings were purposely erotic. Her thick thighs, fat ass, and perfect pussy were on full display for anyone that looked at her from behind; and from the front her torpedo shaped breasts hung down like a cow's ready to be milked. It was humiliating, but she knew it could be so, so much worse.

"Come on," the cop shouted, "I've been in here long enough! If you're going to kill me, just fucking kill me already."

"Careful," a voice replied almost instantly, letting Tasha know she was being watched. "You'll get your wish, traitor." It was a woman's voice. One she had never heard. "We were simply looking for your opponent."

"Opponent?" Now that was new, the cop pondered the meaning of the word. Was she going to be forced into a death match with a gang member? Well, she grinned at the thought, that would be great. She would take them on one by one until they were all dead. No need for a judge then.

"You'll see... Now, be a good girl, before we decide you're not pretty enough to die for our pleasure."
"Up yours, lady," Tasha spat back, only to hear laughter in reply.

-

Jean kept perfectly still in her bonds. Unlike the Tasha, Jean knew exactly what was coming. She had invented this blood sport, and to her horror, she was getting to experience it first hand. Whereas Tasha was a black woman, Jean was white. Her skin pale, heavily covered in tattoos and a few actual brand marks. Her head was shaved on one side, while her bangs fell over the bald side without much effort. She was in the exact same situation; a traitor, found pretty enough to be sport for the cartel.

She had been the leader of her own small group. A successful one, one that didn't have much muscle, but was skilled, and knew how to sell. It hadn't taken her long to go from gang member to boss, to having a seat on the secret council that ran most of the drugs dealers on the streets from the shadows. The girl was chubby, but had her toned, erotic shape to her, just like the cop in the cell just behind hers. She was perfect for the coming event, and when she found herself strapped to this stand, pussy spread, tits dangling down, and face up, she couldn't help but laugh.

"Have you found me a challenge yet?" She asked the darkness.
"Yes, Jean, in fact, she was here before you. Have you heard of officer Tasha Field?"
Jean laughed at that. "Of course. She wasn't working anywhere near my people, but we all knew we had a cop in our ranks. So what? That fat black bitch is my challenge?"
"You will find, Jean that she is a perfect match for you. Your faces, your bodies, they are as close to a match for each other as anyone we have had the pleasure of coupling."
"Right. So, once I eat her face off and bite her skull open... You'll let me go right?"
"No chance, Jean. Besides, no two combatants have ever left here alive..."

Jean knew that to be true. She had invented the sport after all as the most entertaining punishment she could think of. Not once had anyone survived the contest to come. The woman in the dark fell silent, and Jean laughed herself to sleep.

-

Tasha was awoken by a splash of cold ice water being dumped on her completely naked form. She screamed at the top of her lungs, and now awake, she was surprised to hear another woman screaming so very close by. Was that her opponent? All signs pointed to yes.

As she came to, she realized she was not alone in the room. There, in the dark, stood a woman. She was in all black, latex, head to toe in a bodysuit. Even her face was hidden from Tasha, which she guessed was supposed to make he scared. "Look," she said, "I get you like to put on your shows, but if you plan for me to die, no use in hiding your face. Let me see the bitch who kills me!"

Putting a single finger up to her latex lips, the black clad figure shakes her head, gesturing for silence. The cop tries to shrug, but finds the angle impossible. "Fine. Whatever, just, do what you're going to do."

To her surprise, the latex woman grabs bars on the mechanism that held her bound, bars that she had not seen before. There were wheels on this thing, she thought as it began to move towards a slowly opening door. The woman in latex was pushing her out of this room and towards... Towards whatever sick game the cartel had in store for her and her opponent.

-

Jean and Tasha's eyes locked onto each other. It was not their first time seeing the other. Through pictures and spy contacts, they knew exactly what the other looked like, and it had always been hate at first sight. In the drug trade, a woman had to look as erotic as she did fierce, and she held a measure of marked pride in her appearance. Though Tasha was an undercover cop, she took that to heart. She hated Jean for her looks, just as Jean hated her for the same reason. They were, as annoying as it was, practically black and white recolorations of each other. Spitting images with completely different skin tone. It pissed them off to no end, and now, here they were. A black latex woman and a white latex woman were wheeling them towards each other, and both knew it was going to mean their own deaths.

"So, you were a traitor too, Mean Jean?" Tasha laughed at the white woman's expression of disgust. "Who would have guessed the cartel's best and brightest star was also a fat whore who would sell them out at the drop of a hat."
"Look who's talkin', cop," Jean replied. "If I were still in charge, I would feed you to the dogs... but some loco bastards think you're good looking enough to face me in the game."
"I know I am better looking than you," Tasha smirked, "I don't know what this fucking game is... but if it has to do with our looks, I got you beat, bitch."

"Enough!" A voice called out from the shadows, causing the black and white latex slaves to back away from the two opponents in their restraints. "You have both been judged traitor, but, you have also been judged just sexy enough to earn a chance to live... Though, Jean knows no one has ever survived the Face Fight."

"The... what?" Tasha asked, suddenly losing all sense of humor. It was sinking in. She was going to die here.

"The face fight..." Jean shot back, "a game of my invention... Two people are bound for humiliation, and wheeled together, face to face. They must follow the rules, play nice, and put on a good show. When the announcer says to begin, they slam their faces together, bite, spit, and rip into each other until the other woman dies." She spits, a trail of saliva flickers in the cold air.

"So, fucking what? We eat each other's faces off like fucking animals?" Tasha asks, shocked to her core.
"Yeah," Jean replies, "and if one dies the one who lives gets set free."
"Fucking hell..." Tasha growls, "you sick fucking WHORE! How could you come up with such a disgusting game!"
"Well," Jean smiles, baring her teeth, "when you're at the top you have to have fun somehow."
"I'll fucking kill you,"
"Not if I kill you first..."

"We are glad to see you are in good spirits, ladies," the female voice in the dark cut their posturing off. "But you have no more time to play tough little girls... Now, now it is time to fight, and if you can, win your freedom."

"Whatever," Jean glares right into Tasha's eyes, "I don't give a shit if I die, I'm just going to make sure you get dragged to hell with me."
"You god damn psychopath," Tasha growls, "killing you will do the world a fucking service."

"If the opponents are ready, slaves, wheel them closer. Let us introduce them, face to face." The voice calls out again, beginning the fight with her final order.

The opposing colored latex slaves grab their respective prisoner. Together, like clockwork, they begin to scoot the women closer, and closer. The opponents glare at each other, eyes wide open, heads angled perfectly for their faces to press equally against the other. The slaves were precise, and as the two condemned traitors' faces touched each other, the slaves were in perfect step making sure neither woman had a range advantage over the other.

For a moment, they didn't fight. Their noses rubbed together. Soft, plump lips held themselves against equally soft lips. Brown eyes burned into equally wide blue eyes. Breath hit breath, chests heaved in their restraints, and even chins touched each other ever so lightly. Then, without a word, they began.

Feeling the other twitch into action, the cop and ex-mob boss bit into each other's wide open mouths. Chomping down with a tooth aching bite, Tasha's lower jaw was biting into Jean's chin, while Jean's upper jaw sank deep into Tasha's upper lip. Blood wasn't drawn, not yet, they bit hard though, indenting the other's face before pulling back with a hiss of pain. Then, Tasha smashed her nose into Jean's, pushing so hard it felt like either could snap.

Jean wasn't taking it lightly. As Tasha smashed forwards, Jean bit down, sinking her teeth into the other's lips, cutting them badly, drawing the first blood. Then, in a frenzy, they began to shake their faces together. Black and white mirrors of each other rubbing raw friction into the other's beautiful skin. It was hard, nasty rubbing, both trying to smear the other's face away while their noses smacked into each other with sharp jabs of pain. They gasped, hissed, and moaned as the noses bashed and bent against each other over and over, until Tasha pulled back for another smash.

Jean knew what she was doing, and this time copied the cop. The women slammed their faces forwards, eyes unblinking as their noses smashed hard together with a savage CRACK. Not even a second later, they did it again, and again, until red hot bruises formed all over their freezing cold faces. It was agony, but this was a fight to the death neither would allow the other to walk away in. Together, they spent over a minute slamming their faces together, until without doubt, both had totally broken noses.

Blood leaked down, and their heads pounded with painful migraines that could only be formed from something as insane as this. They traded a series of insults as they rested their bleeding faces against each other, neither strong enough to continue the awful face to face pounding. They caught their breath, eyes locked onto each other even still.

When they felt able, the fighting continued in full with a vicious shared bite. Jaw bit jaw, tooth found tooth, and mouths opened wider than they ever had before in attempt to bite the other's mouth clean off. They were at a standstill, their teeth gliding against each other, caught on gaps and jagged edges in their smiles. Tasha tried to force it, sinking her teeth deeper into Jean's, putting her whole jaw's strength into the shared bite, only for Jean to return the favor. Some teeth began to crack, while two gaps in two separate mouths found themselves pulled open. Blood poured from gums, and tooth held tooth down with intense pressure.

Desperate to break the struggle, Jean began to violently shake her head. Gasping, screaming into each other's mouths, Tasha had no choice but to copy Jean. Their teeth began to break, shattering each other's hard frontal rows into jagged, nasty spikes set in bleeding gums. Now neither girl was pretty to look at; swollen faces and broken teeth signaled the death of all their beauty.

Outraged and swimming in deep pain, Tasha bit into Jean's face. Ripping a nasty chunk of cheek off, and spitting it to the floor. Tears welled up in Jean's eyes as the blood spilled down her neck, wetting her supple white breasts. She roared back, screaming like an animal, as she bit clean into Tasha's chin, ripping off a chunk, before going in for another bite. They thrashed against each other once more, face to face, this time cutting, ripping and biting the other's face with their sharp, broken teeth.

From behind them, the two latex slaves came. In their hands they held massive dildos, not in the shape of any man's penis, but that of a the shape and size of a horse's cock. They said no words as they knelt in front of either woman's hot, dripping pussy. Lifting their masks, the black and white latex slaves forced their mouths onto the dirty cunts of the dueling opponents, licking, eating hungrily as chunks of face falls to the floor in front of them. They devour the women's pussies, expertly sucking and working the holes with skill only a sex slave could preform. Spitting gobs of cum and spit into the holes, they finger them first. Sticky latex gloves force their way in, and find both women tighter even than their own bodies. Four fingers in is enough for the slaves, as the pick up the horse cock dildos, and rub them on the outside of either woman's hole.

Gasping and moaning into their brutal face fight, both women could never have expected the sudden filling of their exposed pussies. Blood oozed from wounds as they threw their heads back in shocked vaginal penetration. It was too big!It was far too big for them both, yet it was forced in, so very, very deep. The slaves were not gentle at all, instead they were cruel, and violent with the way they handled the massive dildos, fucking both Tasha and Jean hard, torturing them with walls being stretched way beyond their average limit. Crying, both women took it, and did everything they could to ignore the brutal vaginal pounding to focus on their fight once more.

They did this by slamming their bloody faces together again. This time, spilling chunks of meat onto the floor from fleshy bite wounds all over their once beautiful features. They gasped, moaned, and screamed from pain and abstract overwhelming pleasure even as they bit each other's lips right off. Lipless, their mouths found their targets without a soft pillow between, and even more flesh began to peel away, eaten by the two hungry faces locked in a deadly war with each other.

Tasha and Jean were losing themselves to this battle. Neither thought of the other, neither thought of themselves. Now, now it was only time to bite, to smash, to rip.. to eat. Before long, their noses came apart in a shower of gore, being ripped away by the other's hateful mouth. Nosehole to nosehole, they snorted and breathed into each other. Blood pooling in the holes and running down their mouths whenever their noses parted again. It was sickening, so much so the slaves below left the horse cock dildos in, and allowed the women to finish their fight on their own terms. Though, the slaves did get their satisfaction, as they noticed both women had ejaculated thick streams of cum all over the floor. It dripped from their filled cunts, with the dildos still stuck in.

The violence only grew more extreme in their final moments alive. Locked jaw to jaw once more, their wide mouths pushed each other up, and up, and up, until what little cheek flesh they had left ripped each other right off. Now, with no flesh between, their mouths opened so wide that their throat holes found each other, and began sucking and gurgling into each other just as their locked together noseholes were. Eyes bulged out of eaten away sockets, glaring hateful daggers as the two women blocked the other's airways with their own dying breaths.

"No, no, no," Said the woman's voice as the slaves pulled both Tasha and Jean's mouths apart by the hair. "You're not done, I won't have my fighters end themselves in such a way..."

Roaring frustration, the two women were almost dead from blood loss as it was. They just wanted it to be over, they just wanted to be free from this awful pain, and this terrible game. But a need to cause the other's agony, and the will of their secret watcher forced their hand. They used all jaw muscle they had left to finally eat away the last bit of skin on their faces, peeling away the skulls underneath.

When the last shreds of muscle snapped, it was clear their jaws could not be used any longer. Still, they battled on. Slamming skulled face into skulled face, the women bashed each other's bone. Eyes still there, wide, about to pop out of their sockets, they did as much damage as they could. Then, it became clear the next challenge. Their eyes... could touch.

The last thing either woman saw was a skeletal face ramming itself forwards into their own face. Eyes met eyes, brown met blue, and that final vision of eye slamming into eye filled their mind all the way until their deaths. Both pairs of orbs bashed together, bumping into each other like water balloons, before writhing and squishing horribly. They did it again, and again, until they were completely blind. Then, their eyes had smashed each other, leaking fluid all over their empty skull faces.

The cartel recorded their battle. It was sent anywhere a traitor may be lurking. There wasn't a sane person alive who would betray them now, now that everyone in the cartel knew the brutal image of two women cracking each other's skulls open with their own skull, and their brains pouring out, mixing together in their last dying breath. That would haunt people for the rest of their lives, and the cartel's face fight would be used as the ultimate threat. No one wanted their fate, and so the memory of Jean and Tasha lives on as raw violent fear tactics.

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[RamsaySnow]

The power went out in our neighborhood for a short while so the house was dark. I decided to find a fast loading site to play some colorful digital slots while waiting for lights. I tried Rama Casino in the dark. It is a brilliant platform for Canada residents since they have awesome mobile optimization and fun rewards. It made the blackout quite exciting and I really enjoyed the gameplay.

[bigliguy]

I'm sorry but this story is one if not the worst one I have ever read. It is not a catfight, a wrestling, or fight of any kind. Good stories have to be believable, this is simply not. It is at best forced cannibalism. It outcome is clear before it starts, they both will be dead. The type of organization involved have the standing rule anyone who cheats, betrays, fucks with etc. are dead. Those "ladies" would have known that. The only people I know who would this story are Ed Grime, Jeffery Dahmer, and Armand Hammer (the actor).