The Society- Wives and Mistresses

[johnsmith2007]

The Society- Wives and Mistresses

Violence, sex, depravity, mutilation, look away now you have been warned.


The Elevator glided downwards.
‘Installed in 1923, this was,’ chimed the cheery voice of Mr Cox, the senior private teller at the bank. ‘Only vaultmen, the Gold, and senior staff to use it. Oh, and of course my staff too.’ The thin old man straightened his tie, and Gregory involuntarily straightened his own and brushed some imagined dust from off his sober Savile Row three piece suit. The lift came to a creaking halt and Mr Cox pulled open the metal grill guards and then slid across the wooden outer doors, and the two men walked into the lower vault where the Banks private account reserves were kept.
‘Dates to 1662, this level of the building,’ Mr Cox searched through his large ring of keys as they walked along beside the rows of cases, some marked Bullion, others with various seals that meant they held bearer bonds or Silver ingots, Gold Napoleons, etc, while against the wall various lockers and boxes had private ownership serial numbers, and three rooms had crests marking the property of oil princes from the Gulf, while two separate vault doors were marked in Cyrillic for some Russian Oligarchs. As if from nowhere the old man produced a black leather opera mask and fixed it onto to his face, giving Gregg a similar one to put on.
‘Rules is Rules, and its mask on from this point’, chuckled the old man, as Gregg stood bemused. Then Cox pushed at what appeared to be a solid wall and the large flagstones slide to one side.

‘Not many staff get to see the lower level, but the younger Mr Graham, has invited you especially.’ Gregg wondered why the man had given him such a smug knowing smile, and then they stooped to walk through the low arch cut into the bare rock and came to a very impressive ancient oak metal studded door. The sixty something grey-headed teller selected a large bronze key and the well-oiled lock clicked open, and then he ushered Gregory through. In the lower vault the lighting had been from old electric bulbs, but now to his surprise the flare and hiss of gas mantels provided the illumination but he was taken back completely as the bare utilitarian walls and flooring had been replaced by sumptuous wood panelling, carpets, and the long corridor they were now walking down was lined with paintings.
‘Modernised in 1890, this bit, but they still has the original faggot torches in the main room, flues and chimneys running right up to Thread Needle Street. Very conservative lot ‘The Society’.

He gapped at the unusual art that adorned the walls, they were in various styles from Baroque to what must be late Impressionism and then glossy what he assumed must be posed black and white and then colour pictures. They all had a common theme, what appeared to be naked brutal combat to the death in some sort of arena, with a baying crowd cheering on the victors, the mob dressed in fashions from the 17th to 21st century. Then he took a closure look at some of the alabaster statuary, men and women wrestling and fighting, or more shockingly, celebrating victory often with trophies ripped from the bodies of the vanquished foe, and as if to confirm his nightmare, display cases now lined the wall as they walked, with stuffed and mounted cock and ball sets, nipples and full breasts, and then similarly preserved for posterity clits, and full cunts, hairy or waxed. In a daze he was ushered into a large room, surrounded by tiered wooden bench seating, the centre of the room gave away into a pit into which a crowd of fifty or sixty well dressed men and women were looking expectantly, sat on the hard benches chatting and drinking wine.

As he took his seat in the upper tier of the benches beside Mr Cox, he realized everyone around him was masked similarly to himself, but some in gold an silver masks, and having a good sense of fashion and behaviour he also recognised at least a quarter of those present as senior officials of the Bank behind their black masks and sombre pinstripes or formal dresses. To a ripple of applause more of the burning torches were lit and the flickering light spread the illumination into the circular pit or arena around which the seats were arrayed. To his surprise he saw two naked men, hooded, blind and shackled to the wall by a heavy leather strap around their waists, positioned at opposite ends of the arena. One wore a gold hood and was a dark, olive skinned male, while the other wore a silver hood, a European; both were mature bulls, heavy sacked and thick cocked, muscled, but with a bit of extra weight from good living. Then to cheers, out of the arched doorways beside the two tethered males strode two groups of four women, two cloaked and masked, while two, much younger than the others, were naked and walked behind their older superiors. They halted some twenty feet of hard sandy floor from each other, and the cheers and catcalls from the audience grew so that Gregg was deafened.

The noise he thought must have been heard in the main cash hall of the Bank fifty feet above when with a flourish the cloaks were whipped off the four matriarchs by their attendants and with a roar from the crowed the four gladaitrixes removed their masks and threw them into the crowd, leaving all four standing barefoot and naked on the sand of the arena. He didn’t recognise the dark haired women, they looked possibly Arab he thought, but the blonde matron he immediately recognised as the wife of the senior Russian official who had been negotiating the oil and gas deal with his superiors earlier that week, before they had stormed our shouting threats and curses at the Arab negotiating team. Quickly scanning the crowd cheering on confirmed his suspicions, the two senior Prince’s behind thier gold masks were screaming their support for the naked olive skinned wife of their negotiator, who Gregg had no doubt was the naked gold hooded male tethered to the wall, and similarly blinded and restrained in the silver eyeless hood, must be the Russian who had so completely obstructed the deal both governments had been striving for for over six months so as to get a better deal for his oligarch master.

As the four mature naked females raised their hands in appreciation and showed of all their worldly goods for the baying crowd Gregory realised he would be seeing the final stage in that negotiations, one way or the other.
‘Wives and Mistresses fighting for their men, is the type of fight the Russians chose,’ the old man nodded across at a large Silver masked contingent in the crowd, ‘they being the challenged party in the affair.’ Cox hummed meaningfully, ‘Must be something behind that, as normally it would just be wives and husbands or family vs family in an affaire of honour. Oh, and the 'Society' added the blind masks for a bit of spice, as the 'Sacrifice' normally is just tethered up.’

The two nude Arab females were peas from the same pod, and were he realised certainly sisters. Dark eyes, jet black long hair on head and growing full in their groins, mid forties, lookers with full busts, 38 inchers at least, and that bit of extra width that he loved in more experienced ladies. The burgundy streaked haired exotic beauty was obviously the wife as she fussed and bossed her raven-haired sibling about. The European’s were however more of a contrast, the older blonde wife commanding her younger naked compatriot, giving ten years to the mistress she was in her early fifties, tall and thick set, and at ‘five ten’ six inches taller than the Arabs with wonderful pillow breasts at over 44 inches, with a hard face, and a Brazilian trimmed sex; the spray on tanned brunette wore her cunt smooth shaved and waxed, and except for her heavy thirty eight tits and expanded gut and ass, still had the body of the gymnast she had been twenty years before. Though the Slave mistress was more toned and obviously muscled of the four, she was also he guessed probably two inches shorter than the Arabs and easily the lightweight at the party. In the glow of the bare flames the four cats nude bodies shone with a thin coating of oil, and from only thirty feet away Gregg could see the maniacal cruel smile on their flushed faces and knew they had all been given some powerful drug to increase their endurance and release their inhibitions for the savagery of what was to come.

All four naked mature women showed off their bodies and flaunted their heavy glistening milkers for the cheering crowd, and while chatting casually with each other they waited, occasionally shooting glares across the sand at their opponents. A simple gong sounded to bring the meeting to order and all four fighting bitches stalked towards the centre of the pit, and then from the top box an elderly man, Gregg recognised ‘Young Mr Graham’, seventy odd at least, under his mask, stood slowly to his feet, lifted up his right hand and dropped a white silk handkerchief into the arena. The crowd hushed as it slowly fell towards the sand and all four combatants froze locking eyes in hatred as it fluttered down. When it hit the ground the crowd erupted and the four naked gladiatrixes charged across the pit at each other, spitting curses and threats in Russian and Arabic, while the blind men screamed under their hoods, pulled on the chains that held them to the wall at their waists, and reached out blindly with their hands.

[johnsmith2007]

It was Wife vs Mistress as a more vibrant liquid scarlet soon joined the ‘Burgundy’ Arab wife’s red highlights. The smaller Russian ‘Gymnast’ had leapt just before contact and though not quite making a drop kick to the dark skinned vixen’s head had caught her hard in her well padded chest and left her gasping and staggering holding her battered mammeries. Easy prey for the lighter, late thirty, brunette bitch who had then thrown the Arab bodily face first into the wall, further stunning her victim, and cutting her head open. The Arab female was however spared more punishment when the small Russian stepped too close to one of the hooded males and was grabbed by her hair by two large hands, who wrenched her towards him. Luckily it was her lover and a few choice curses freed her, but had given the burgundy streaked haired female a chance to scramble across the sand away from her tormentor. Burgundy was back on her bare feet, bleeding, battered and bruised but ready for the tanned bitch’s next attack, fists raised and screaming threats with whatever breath she had left as the blood lust glowed in her eyes.

Meanwhile in the centre of the pit the flight was much more brutal. The big Blonde wife had powered into the smaller jet-black haired beauty, punching and kicking, but found the younger mistress was both quick and as vicious as the fifty year old, both obvious veterans of innumerable catfights. Fists had ploughed into full bosoms and low into guts and baby makers, but the olive skinned female scored nastily with a series of knee lifts into the furred cunt lips of the older wife, while raking her eyes with her scarlet nails. Snatching hold of the black haired female by her flowing locks the Blonde had crashed in a nose shattering head butt that had stunned the bigger female as well as her now bloody faced smaller foe, dropping the ‘Raven’ Arab to her knees. While the Blonde staggered, trying to refocus, the smaller women acted, and lunging forward she grasped her bigger enemy around the legs and brought her to the sand. As Gregg looked away from the fight between Gymnast and Burgundy to see what was going on between Blonde and Raven he was sure he could hear the screams of the Blonde above the roar of the crowd. The Arab mistress had lunged across the oil and now sand coated body of the European and snapped her pearly white teeth around the thrusting engorged and drug enhanced clit of the bigger women, and was slowly sawing away at its root, shaking her head like a dog with a rat.

It was the Gymnast who came to her rescue. While Burgundy gaped flat footed, the small athletic female sprinted across to where the blonde was battering at the head of her torturer, and then gone fin desperation for the Arabs eyes with vicious gouge. But to no effect as Raven had buried her head into the trimmed thatch of the blonde to avoid the blinding gouge, and knelt up to give herself more leverage. Her plush ass was spread, clit dripping and excited at the near desexing of her foe, and it was between her spread buns that the razor sharp blue painted big toe of the athletic Russian women thrust. The chewed clit of the blonde wife was spat out as Raven screamed in torment as the root of her own sex-drive was hacked and butchered. Slumping over side ways she whimpered both hands between her legs as blood seeped from between her fingers, her head resting on the thigh of the Blonde who was similarly curled in a ball weeping holding her chewed clit.

Gymnast however had no time to gloat over her victim as her Arab enemy arrived quickly on the scene and punched a right hook hard into the other bitch’s right kidney. The younger, late thirties fighter yelled and staggered away holding her back, whereupon Burgundy axe-handled her two hand high above her head and brought them down full into the middle of the smaller females back. The brunette screamed in agony and tears steaming down her cheeks, wobbled blindly towards the wall, and this time into the grasp of the big meaty hands off the blindfolded olive skinned bull. The chasing Burgundy had punched and kicked her foe as she tried to escape but then started to scream orders in Arabic at the man whose muscled arms embraced the small European. She should have concentrated on her own fight as the slippery oiled Gymnast spun around in the Bulls grasp and again used her razor sharpened big toe, this time kicking with precision into the hairy crotch of the Arab wife as she shouted her commands at the Bull. Burgundy was lifted off her feet, screaming as she fell to writhe on the sand, cunted.

Wriggling and squirming the muscled, toned mistress nearly slipped free from the Bulls grasp, but just when she had nearly made it to freedom he blindly managed to snag her hair with his left hand, and then realising this must be the screaming hellcats head poured punch after punch into her. Gymnast tried to block, and kneed and kicked him in his jewels and chopped him hard at the root of his meat, making him wail, but this did not save her as he gritted his teeth and pounded her body with blow after blow. Her two still firm full breasts were smashed out of shape, bursting implants, so she bleed, blood, lymph, milk and glycerine from her ruptured teats. He also cracked a rib, and ploughed low, low blows into her bowels, nearly rupturing her guts and wreaking her womb, so she dripped blood on the sand from between her legs. Gymnast’s head lolled and she whined and begged, still trying vainly to deflect his blows while he gasped for breath at his exertions inside the stifling hood. Sheer exhaustion eventually stopped his assault and the tanned Brunette ended up slumped against his rotund belly, her head lolled on his massive chest while he gasped for oxygen, and she sobbed and whimpered.

Meanwhile however the fight had continued back into the centre of the arena. Both matrons had been slow to recover for their cuntings, but it was the blonde who dragged herself up first. Gregg wondered if she would rush to her dark haired companions aid but instead she decided to finish off the small Arab mistress first. She grabbed a leg and split open the oyster of the dark skinned forty something bitch and then stomped her heel down on the glistening pearl of the other women’s sex. Raven screamed and jack-knifed up at the blow only to receive a hefty fist into her already bloody mask of a face. After three more stomps the smaller female was lying back gurgling from the further battering to her much-prized clit. Glancing up Blonde could now see that the big bull had grabbed her team mate while his wife, the Burgundy streaked vixen, lay curled up sobbing from her cunt kicking. Gregory sighed as he realised she was still not going to the aid of the mistress who had saved her from a brutal beating, with friends like her...

However Blonde had got an interesting idea from the developments only twenty of so feet from her across the sand. Grabbing the near comatose Raven by her heels she looked around and shouted in Russian to the hooded man across the arena from her and then dragged the Arab mistress across the grit to her Husband. Hefting the smaller female to her feet by her hair she presented her into the arms of the Slav Bull, whose cock she stroked and coxed to full erection. Hitching the drooling women’s legs up she positioned her ass so with a lusty plunge the twelve hard meat inches of the male entered he in one swift raping, and then she guided his hands so that they could latch into the already bruised and battered hanging milkers of the ruined wife. Raven awoke from her comatose state with a yell of agony as the hooded Bull proceed to ream her shitter while his big hands tore and twisted at her breast. However Blonde was not yet finished with the cat who had nearly bitten off her sex, but by this time the Arab Bull had stopped his pounding of the brunette, who was now hanging limp in his grasp, and was gasping for air in the stifling hood as his wife stumbled back to her feet holding her crotch. Blonde finally satisfied herself by hooking both sets of her green painted claws into the dark brown eyes of the olive skinned beauty and ripping at her eyes until the mistresses wails were piteous to hear.

Retracting her now goo and blood covered talons Blonde then shouted at her husband what must have been something like ‘finish the bitch’ before she staggered across, exhausted herself, to destroy the other olive skinned female. However as Burgundy retreated to give herself time to recover she had inadvertently uncovered her hooded Bull to attack. The Blonde took advantage of the Arab wife’s mistake and turning as quickly as she cold on her unsteady legs punted the big mans hanging pods so hard he must have been able to chew on them. The husband gurgled and discarded the semi comatose brunette to drop to his knees in agony, swinging his fists around in the hope of hitting his attacker. Moving before Burgundy could summon up her resolve to save her man the blonde pale skinned vixen selected her timing and leapt up to land an inch perfect stomp to his cock and balls, destroying them, cruashed to the sand under a firm descending right heel. Gregg, like most of the males present, winced at the slurping popping sound as his sperm stores were crushed, and the man just fell over backwards, hanging by his shackles, obviously KOed while Burgundy screamed a wail of protest at the destruction of the ‘sausage and onions’ that had given her five children and countless hours of pleasure.

[johnsmith2007]

The small wife charged across the sand at Blonde who turned to laugh at her, but the pretty Arab seemed to shrug off the fist that smashed into her left breast, smearing it across her body, and jumped a double knee lift into the heavy weight Slav's baby makers. Blonde staggered back as the whirlwind assailed her and the two women staggered back across the arena locked in a clawing screaming bloody tangle. They lost their footing near the far wall and fell to the sand where they continued to roll over and over as the crowd shouted it’s self hoarse for their chosen woman. Their glistening oiled naked bodies, coated now in blood and sweat also gained a new layer of sand and grit as they fought tooth and nail. The smaller female was the constant aggressor, and even though the big European had the advantage of weight and height it was the Slav who was screaming the most from her clawing and biting as they fought.

Burgundy had nearly blinded the Blonde wife in the first attack, gouging viciously at her eyes, leaving them raw slits before the Russian had managed to pull the claws free and then fastened her teeth onto the smaller women’s left jutting jet black left teat, and to the Arabs bellows had then proceeded to bite the soft milker off of the battered 38 incher of the smaller vixen, spitting the plug of flesh into the beauties tear stained face, leaving only a gory hole to crest the firm rise of the ruined bosom. A head butt had then cracked a few front teeth of the Slav as the mid forties battler climbed atop her older foe, but while the Blonde's nose bleed profusely and her ruptured lip and mouth filled with froth she snapped on a bear hug pressing both their hot battered bodies tight together. The Eurpoean was no amateur with this hold as her arms worked their way down trying to find the weak-spot at the base of the Arabs spine and break her back. She had also synched in the arms of the Olive skinned wife, also she could not claw her way out in the conventional catfight manner, but the Burgundy streaked haired Lioness was no novice too to cat scratch fighting, and from her position held close to the other voluptuous mature wife, she worked her claws insidiously in between their slippery naked bodies.

Blondie started to whimper, even though form the view of these back in the seats with Gregg se seemed to be winning this brutal trial of strength, but that she started to sob and whine, tears flooding out of what remained of her slits of eyes. With a bellow she increased she pressure on the smaller women’s spine, and the Arab croaked a half protest, but still seemed to the distant viewers to be hardly fighting back, but then Gregg spotted the blood, and with a renewed cry it was the Arab supporters who started to cheer and stomp their support for the smaller women, trying to out cheer the Russians who up to that point had seemed certain of victory. Then with a loud high-pitched scream the arms of the big fifty-year-old blond fell loose and she stared round-eyed at the ceiling, hyperventilating as scream followed scream, but by this time everyone knew what had happened. Sneaking her hands round to the furry manicured cunt lips of the Slav the olive skinned cat had fastened her talons deep inside the sex of her opponent and as their bodies were crushed together had methodically sawn and gouged away at the big sweaty clit of the older wife. Curling two fingers of each hand behind the clit hood at the root of her enemy’s sex she had slowly ripped out the love meat of the other cat fighter. The blood drenched Arab slowly sat up to the cheers of her supporter to show off her trophy to the baying crowd, the quivering lump of flesh still fresh and throbbing from the combat drugs Blonde had consumed before the fight.

At this point all eyes suddenly turned to a gory tableau across the other side of the arena. A deep throaty male bellow of agony and torment had echoed around the underground fight pit. The Russian mistress, Gymnast, had been slowly recovering from her near total destruction at the hands of the now unconscious Arab Bull, but revenge for the destruction of her tits drove her on. Rolling the heavy rotund male over she had grabbed his now flaccid and wreaked cock and balls in both hands, bent her head low and started to chew. She must have commenced this some time ago, while Burgundy was leisurely desexing the blonde, but when she had nearly finished the job the battered male had suddenly regained his wits in a world of torment as with a final rip and shake of her head, doggy style, the twelve inch tool drug enhanced and still hard, and its blue black swollen sperm pod, came away from his body with a gush of life blood. He wailed and gave out high-pitched screams of despair as sightlessly his hands felt at his now empty groin, before with one last bellow he fell back to bleed out in the sand. Kneeling up, so Burgundy could not mistake what had happened to her husband, Gymnast smiled at the Arab, licked blood off her fingers as if savouring a tasty morsel, before wiping the severed member across and around her red and blue-black veined and distorted oozing mammeries.

Still holding the meaty truncheon in her left hand the smaller thirty something dark haired women slowly rose to her feet spitting Russian at the other gladiatrix who still looked on, shocked at the destruction of her spouse. Every pace must have caused agony as she limped towards her mortal foe, her deformed breasts and bruised body showing livid wounds, while blood seeped from her sex down her muscled legs to the floor, as she nonchalantly twirled the other distressed women’s husbands bloody ragged cock and balls, to add to the Arab widows horror.

The Arab female screamed in fury, and then turning wailed an even louder lament at the fate of her sister. A few paces behind secured to the wall by his shackles and leather belt was the Russian husband, and as the crowd’s attention focused on him he was just finishing off the Islamic wife, her tong now hanging black and bitten through from her wide gasping airless mouth, and her hollow gouged sockets staring red holes at her sister. The big male shook the women one last time and with a hollow laugh from within the hood dropped the rag doll at his feet. He little realized his danger as with a wail the remaining Arab flung herself at his balls, her talons closing on them and as she roll across the arena, pulling and stretching them to their limit until her hands slipped free, lubricated by blood gushing from his penetrated and torn sack. The Russian bellowed in agony and swung his fists ineffectually at the wife who was ruining his sex life, as she lunged back at the now sagging Bull, again ripping at his seeds, but it was the Gymnast who rescued her lover, rushing up and eye racking the olive skinned widow.

As the Arab Lioness wobbled away, trying to clear her damaged eyes, but Gymnast snapped a full nelson on the other wriggling blood coated cat, while barking commands at the Russian male. A clunking fist swung low into the bulging belly of the Arab while the dark haired Russian women held her in place. Then getting full revenge for her own crushing at the hands of the Islamic male she supervised the pounding of the forty something female’s lush body. Burgundy wailed, moaned and begged as the blows landed repeatedly just above her pubic bone, tearing to shreds her stomach wall muscles and then sinking in fist deep into her bowel and womb. Gasping, dizzy from his exertions he was eventually was allowed to stop when his lover was satisfied, and the plump mature vixens gut was busted, ovaries destroyed and tubes wreaked, blood and lumps of gore cascading from between her legs as the vengeful Russian mistress held her up to endure the torture.

The Russian crowd was now ecstatic, screaming and cursing the Arab supporters who were sitting stone faced, having to take the insults and spittle from the winning supporters. Letting the once pretty olive skinned matron fall to her knees in her own offal Gymnast jumped upon the ruined women’s shoulder raised her hands up to the applause of her fans and then twisted her full muscled body, snapping the neck of the Arab wife to send to hell to join her husband.

The crowd went wild and a few men and women started to get up to go down to the pit, but the fight had not yet finished. Staggering across holding her injured body the brunette snatched up the destroyed lump of meat hat had once been the now dead Arab multimillionaires sex, and then wobbled across to where the wife still lay on her back sobbing only semiconscious due to her serious blood loss having been declitted. The mistress screamed down at the wife and spat on her, and Gregg could feel the atmosphere go frosty among the Russians who must know what she had said, through he was in no doubt it referred to the fifty year old wife’s neglecting to come and rescue her team mate when she had the chance. Stepping over the bigger women she dropped like a stone her firm hard butt into the stomach of the older blonde who jerked up, mouth gaping as she lost her breath in one agonized gush.

Into the now unearthly silence of the arena the mistress screamed in heavily accented English.
‘Eat black cock you old bitch’, and with that thrust the dead member of the Arab Bull down the wife's throat so twelve inches of the meat stuck down her gullet and the heavy seed pods hung across her nose. Pinning the blonde’s arms to her side she sat astride the bucking Blonde’s tormented naked body until the kicking subsided, and eventually the blue eyes in their gouged slits fluttered open in death, and piss and excrement sluiced out from between the big fifty year old matriarchs legs into the sand.


John,

Hoped you liked that bit of nastiness Guys and Girls.

[Fuentes]

Um, that was awesome John.
Thank you for taking the time to write and post.

[gabrielluther]

*Whistles*

Wow! Very impressive and great job on the descriptions. To the victor goes the spoils.

Thank you JohnSmith.

[Ted Mark]

http://www.hostboard.com/forums/atta...1&d=1262972815

"The strength we have for Vision
derives from the passion we have for the heaven
of which that vision comes"

-Ibin 'Adad 976 CE "The Nights of Lilith"

[agraf74]

I see that not all will be bad in 2010! JohnSmith will be taking us from time to time to this upper class Society, wait a few moments for the games to begin... I'm appreciating the mix of nationalities, ages, and sizes - so more as we're now in the Global Society. Keep on going, dear johnsmith, and please avoid going there into the arena yourself, even if you want to get a closer eyeful of the action. I would not like to lose you to some lusty wench eager for one more john!