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Thread: Carol Smith and Frances Knight's Final Battle

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    Carol Smith and Frances Knight's Final Battle

    DISCLAIMER: As Carol Smith is based closely on a woman in my street I decided to change the names of some of the characters in this story.

    ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
    CAROL AND FRAN?S FINAL BATTLE
    ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

    There was an air of excitement and expectation on Saturday 31 May in both Carol?s house and in mine. Carol had no less than three lovers visit her house that day. Which of then, I wondered would she favour and invite to the big titfight. There was a garrulous spat between the women in the street as Fran got into her car to drive to the stables, then I had to put up with loud music thundering through the wall and the sound of her kids yelling and arguing

    Well, the rest of that Saturday all Fran?s talk about what she would do to Carol the next day certainly got our ?juices? flowing and it made that Saturday night the best night of sex ever, but rather than taking it out in furious humping, she, we, both took things slowly so as to prolong it and enjoy each other more. As my ?tool? was busy inside her, she thrust her big milky boobs in my face. I knew from the appearance of her hard, erect thumb thick inch long nipples what she wanted. I sucked one fat nipple and mounded areola into my mouth and was richly rewarded.

    I know of nothing better than to be plunging slowly in and out of my wife while being rewarded with squirts of rich breast milk from her thick nipple inside my mouth. Fran enjoyed having her breasts suckled as much as I enjoyed milking her; both of us in perfect rhythm, - her breast squirting it?s contents into my mouth in time with me squirting my juice into her. Needless to say we both wound up covered in sex juices and milk from Fran?s gland thickened breasts.

    In Fran?s ecstasy throes we rolled and tumbled all over the bed, her huge H cup boobs smothering my face on occasion and finally burying my head completely and, with a great ?THUMP? we wound up on the floor rug by the bed. That wasn?t the end of it and our passionate, sweaty rolling continued and I felt the tremendous weight of her swollen boobs as they slapped me around my head. I tried to imagine myself wrestling her nude (as I effectively was by now) and that only made me cum more until I was exhausted.

    Fran still had plenty of energy, she certainly has more stamina than I do and probably more stamina than an Ever Ready bunny! I pitied Carol as I looked forwards to tomorrow and the battle of the big, heavy boobs. I made a point of telling Fran that I?d read, with some concern, that lactating boobs are more sensitive than usual: ?Naw,? she said: ?In some ways they are, but it won?t make much difference if we?re both in the same condition!? she said confidently. I was also reminded that big breasts are less sensitive because of the thickness of the cellulite covering the glands. She confided in me that her nipples and breasts tingled with the thought of using them against Carol?s.

    Fran was a bit flustered on Sunday morning that her mother was away that weekend and unable to take baby Alex. She had been counting on her to make sure the baby was out of the way while she had her pre-arranged fight with Carol. Fran almost called it off when her mother said that she couldn?t take Alex for the weekend, as she usually does, so I reassured her that I would tend to young Alex?s needs as I watched her put her horse tackle in her car and set off for the livery stables.

    About the same time Carol?s current man friend pulled up in his battered red car. Callum was a tall red headed man and wore a smart maroon coloured casual leather jacket over a black T-shirt, dark blue jeans and reddish brown cowboy boots. Carol greeted him at the door in a flimsy bed-shift, which showed her huge, firm boobs off a treat, their almost conical areolas looking somewhat engorged. Her two older children were going out for the day with one of her friends. I wondered if Corbin was to remain at home while his mother fought with my wife.

    Carol and Callum smooched explicitly on the door step for a few minutes, groping each other openly, then they went inside. The door slammed and I heard their feet running up the stairs and Corbin strike up a lusty wailing. I busied myself preparing the fighting mat in the empty spare bedroom which was about 13?6? x 10?. I brought some old mattresses out of the loft, two 3 foot wide singles and two 5 feet double mattresses and lashed the carry handles together forming a well sprung ?mat? about 10ft x 6?3?, and extended it by the addition of the two single mattresses end to end.

    The 10 feet x 12 feet 6 inches pad made a peculiar shape with its 2ft 6inches spur, and it only just fitted the room leaving three feet six inches along one side for the four dining room chairs and free-standing convection heater and was flush against two walls. All the while I was preparing the fighting area I could hear Carol and Callum lovemaking, the bed and floor creaking and groaning and Carol?s loud cries as she climaxed. The noise was driving me nuts and made me incredibly horny, so that almost the whole time I was laying the mattresses I had a massive ?hard? on, my thoughts of the impending titfight between these two big busted women only added to it.

    I switched on the convection heater in the room and just had time to deal with baby Alex in the adjoining room when the doorbell rang and there stood Callum and Carol with Corbin sleeping peacefully in his pram. Carol had a pale pink bathrobe on and little else from what I could see. My eyes caught immediately by her huge boobs clearly hanging free and swelling out her robe attractively. ?OK, where?s the room we?re to fight in!? Carol asked straight to the point, smiling and looking at me in the knowing way that she always did. It was Callum who asked if he could ?park Corbin in the lounge.? He was a Scot, I should have guessed from the name and his red hair. It reminded me that Fran is half Scottish. I agreed, then showed them both upstairs. ?Where is the fat titted cunt then?? Carol said in her less than charming manner. I was just explaining that Fran was probably on her way back right now when I heard her car pull up in the drive. I went downstairs to tell her that our ?guests? had arrived. ?Damn. They?re early!? she said.

    Fran looked quite exciting to me, her jeans sitting on her broad hips like hipsters, her checked, open fronted shirt tied in a knot under her boobs, her sweat stained white bra barely able to hold the weight of her ?H cup? tits. ?There?s no time for a shower now, I?ll just have to fight that fucking cow?s udders as I am.? -- ?Shhh. She?ll hear you!? I said. ?I don?t care!? Fran said in a loud voice for Carol to hear. ?Did you hear that, you bitch?? Fran called as she went up the stairs.

    I went into the fighting room to tell Carol and Callum that Fran was just getting changed and produced a pair of Fran?s black stockings which would be used to bind the women?s hands behind their backs to make sure the titfight didn?t degenerate into an ugly catfight or brawl. ?Uggh. I?m not having that cow?s filthy stockings anywhere near me!? Carol protested. I assured her that they had been washed and that they were perfectly clean.

    Fran then came into the room wearing her pale blue bath robe, here plainly loose breasts bulging through the toweling material. ?Whew; it?s hot in here!? was the first thing she said. Callum leaned over from his seat and switched off the heater. ?We were just looking at the bindings,? I informed Fran, ?And Carol?s changed her mind about using them,? I added. ?Humph! Afraid that my tits will beat hers I expect!!? Fran said pointedly staring hard at Carol?s eyes.

    ?Hey. That?s not fair!? Carol protested. ?My tits are firmer and heavier and will beat her soft puppies to mush!? she added vehemently. ?So prove it!? Fran snapped taking off her robe and handing it to me. I knew that the only exercise Carol got was fucking her boyfriends, she also smoked, drank too much (wine, in her case) and ate a little too much, while Fran broke and trained her own horses and was keen on her modest weight training.

    If this fight came down to stamina I was reasonably sure that Fran would win. But, I must admit to some trepidation as it looked to me, now the women were in the same room, as though Carol?s tits were bigger. ?Hey. Bitch!? Carol snapped. ?I don?t have to prove anything,? she said as she dropped her bathrobe on the mattress pad and scooped each of her huge breasts up onto her hands and began juggling them up and down. ?Not when I can do this honey!? she added. ?This enough proof for you??

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    Re: Carol Smith and Frances Knight's Final Battle

    I handed a stretch stocking to Callum, who didn?t notice, as he was too busy gawping open mouthed at Fran?s impressive bust, which she had just lifted. ?Hey!!!? Carol snapped at him.

    ?I mean prove your flabby fat bags against my tits you stupid cow!!? Fran said. ?So. You ARE ready to have your fat soft little tits pulped by mine!!? Carol grated as she walked towards Fran on the springy surface, dropping her heavy boobs and dropping her hands to her wide hips. ?That?ll be the day! Bitch!!? Fran snarled back spitting the last word out explosively and releasing her own heavy hangers took a step across the pad towards her enemy, her hands now on her hips.

    Because of the sprung surface of the pad, their boobs bounced and swung as they walked, their heavy, basket ball sized gland rich orbs stretching the rest of the breast tissue as it hung from their chests, the extraordinary sight drawing both mine and Callum?s eyes. Both girls were wearing just their G-string briefs and their huge boobs swung from side to side above their waists and bounced gently as they moved toward each other on the springy surface.

    ?So! This flabby milk-cow thinks her tits are tougher than mine!? Carol challenged. ?No. I don?t think they?re tougher than yours. - I KNOW they?re tougher!? Fran stated baldly. ?So prove it!? Carol said suddenly straightening and pushing her ample breasts out. ?Yeah!? Callum suddenly said in his enthusiasm. ?Show us who?s the best!? he goaded. Carol turned and glared at him for a moment. ?Mine are best Callum, and I aim to beat this cunt?s tits to shit!!!? she growled.

    And with that each woman took a step towards her equally busty opponent, her hands on her wide hips. Still almost two feet apart their breasts met and Carol nudged Fran?s rack with her own pushing them across her chest. ?Oh Yeah?? Fran said as her breasts swung from the nudge. ?Yeah!? Carol retorted. Boobs bouncing, each woman withdrew a step and rammed them together, both women bouncing backwards a step with each shove, both still goading each other with their ?Yeah?? -- ?Yeah!? dialogue. They paused, red in the face.

    Fran reached behind her head to tie her hair in a ponytail, the awesome sight drawing appreciative stares from Callum, much to the annoyance of Carol. Pulling her ponytail to the front, Fran stooped forwards ensuring her 11 or 12-inch long tits swung forwards her familiar, hard nipples standing rigid. Her three inch areolas were not as big, or as dark as Carol?s but still pretty impressive. When she stood up again she cupped her hands under her voluminous boobs to ease the weight of her orbs for a moment, then dropped them, where they rolled on her chest and lower ribs for a couple of seconds, their natural firmness and surprising pertness displaying them to their best advantage.

    ?Showboating bitch!!? Carol spat and not to be outdone reached behind her head to tighten her pony tail tie, her breasts thrusting out in front of her as she did so, a determined look on her pretty face. At this angle it looked like her hardening nipples were trying to rival Fran?s. Because Carol was a little smaller than Fran and her torso a little slimmer (while her ass and thighs are fatter) the illusion of her tits being bigger than Fran?s was achieved.

    But her nipples and areolas were certainly no illusion! They were clearly bigger than Fran?s and looked just as firm, her brown areolas covering most of the front of her big rounded breasts, her nipples as thick as thumbs. Fran stood waiting with her hands on her hips, her abdomen drawn in. Carol knew this and deliberately stooped forwards to shake her boobs from side to side, deliberately slapping them together then letting them settle. Then she stood up straight.

    Finally, Carol dropped her hands onto her hips. ?You ready now?? Fran asked in an exasperated tone. ?Yeah. Ready to kick your ass!? Carol snarled, facing Fran. ?Hold on!? I said. ?What about these - to make sure it doesn?t turn into another brawl?? I asked waving the limp black stockings at them. ?Oh yeah. I forgot!? Fran said. ?Do I HAVE to?? Carol said sounding like a recalcitrant schoolgirl. ?No, you don?t have to, but this is to stop this from turning into a messy catfight!? I said. ?You DID agree to it!? Callum pointed out. ?I think we can be trusted to behave; after all, there?s a lot at stake here,? Fran calmly said. Both women gripped their wrists behind their backs, which had the effect of thrusting their tits out even further. Callum and I watched this amazing sight and retreated to our chairs to watch.

    ?I?ll enjoy seeing some humility from you, you arrogant bitch!? Carol breathed, her gaze not faltering from Fran?s face, then began striding cautiously forwards, her huge boobs swinging in circular motions. Fran moved towards Carol to block her, but Carol dodged to one side, then the other, Fran swinging from side to side in front of her to block her. The two women were both ?thick set?, but certainly not fat as with their hands behind their backs they circled, their huge orbs swinging suspended seemingly from the thinner ?neck?s of their breasts, the flesh stretching as the heavy objects swung harder as suddenly, - they smacked them audibly into each other.

    The icy looks these women glared at one another as the noise of their firm fighting tits ripped the air were betrayed by the obvious heat of the fight as their faces grew redder and their tits grew redder and seemed to begin to swell up from the stimulation of their first encounter. Their areolas were dark red and shiny, their thick nipples fully erect and hard, which they used to good effect by jabbing them into the now sensitised meat of each other?s tits and areolas

    Then Carol darted forwards to rush Fran and barge her out of the way with her boobs or knock her over, but Fran would not be moved and the right sides of their chests met with an audible ?THUMP?, their ribs reverberating. ?Ouch!? I thought, ?That MUST have hurt!? as they squashed. Both women barged their loose breasts at each other two or three times more followed by a rapid volley of slapping sounds as the big gland filled bags laid into each other as the women twisted their shoulders.

    Their ?H cup? boobs (each almost a foot long) flew through the air as they pounded one another, the loud, heavy slaps betraying the sheer weight of each huge orb. Their big tits rolled and swung vigorously around all over their chests as each women struggled to dominate the other, their long pony tails swinging behind them. Her feet spread wide for balance, Fran tried to use the weight of her chest to push Carol backwards. Carol wasn?t taking that however, and barged back as hard as she could.

    In the next instant, Fran gasped as their breasts met with a loud smack, then parted to be slammed together again as the determined Carol rammed her chest into Fran?s again and again. As the women fought ?tit for tat? (or should that be tit for tit!) grunts of exertion and anger squeezed from their lungs as they bodily shoved each other across the mat. Their big boobs juddered and swung each time they parted, but they looked, incredibly, firmer, their thick nipples longer and thicker and their areolas, stimulated from the physical contact, darkening and mounding up on their breasts. ?My tits will beat yours to mush!?

    Carol asserted breathlessly between heavy slams as she arched her back to thrust her boobs beneath Fran?s, pushing them upwards. As her boobs bounced back down to her chest and juddered Fran fought back battering Carol?s tits with her own, twisting her back and broad shoulders swinging her heavy orbs at her, dragging Carol?s breasts with her hard nipples, across her chest. Carol cried out at the painful pull on her breasts as they stretched from her chest muscles, tearing at the muscles and skin. She pulled them sharply away in the same direction. Their suddenly released breasts bounced back down to their chests and swung for a moment before the two women slammed their big fat boobs together again. This time they squirmed and twisted this way and that, both gasping and grunting hard as their tits fought, smacking each other from side to side.


    Then they really got started and went at each other at breathtaking speed, each woman?s boobs clattering across her opponent?s. Callum and I both found ourselves urging our partners on. The women seemed equally matched as they tore one another?s boobs around each other?s chest. This was literally on the edge of the seat stuff and the two girls gasped insults at each other as, with their hands behind their backs, they swung their huge orbs. Callum, I noticed, was clutching at his groin as he shouted advice and encouragement to Carol.

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    Re: Carol Smith and Frances Knight's Final Battle

    The battle was a joy to follow as I watched the women working out their moves, and dancing and dodging one another?s thrusts and swings. The mats were saturated with their sweaty footprints and the women?s boobs were soon transformed as they shone under their film of sweat. The veins on their breasts were now standing out as a prominent blue and dark red tracery and they seemed to swing further and harder as they began to lose the integrity of the supporting muscles as they stretched. The women were now bellowing hoarsely at each other, real fury in their voices, as well as pain, as they staggered with the exhaustion of the fight. I worried that the heavy swinging might tear a supporting ligament in a breast, but the women seemed willing to risk it.

    The increasing noise of the women fighting obviously disturbed Alex in the other room and he began to cry. This was disastrously distracting for the two mothers and the neuroendocrine reflex was triggered in both women. I could not tear my eyes away from the fight to go and tend to Alex and the women determinedly continued to fight with their huge boobs despite the fact that their boobs had become a lot more tender and the ?let down? reflex meant that their breast milk was now in free flow and spattering each woman as breast whacked breast.

    Carol?s son, Corbin, now started yelling downstairs in his pram. The noise was irritating and I thought that it would trigger their maternal responses and stop them fighting, but I was wrong. It seemed to drive the women on to redouble their efforts. I had not considered the protective instinct and if anything, each woman fought harder, nominally to protect her baby and each in an effort to deprive the other woman?s child of breast milk. Their reddened breasts swung and juddered as the heavy basketball sized bulging orbs hung from their chests, stretching the connecting breast tissue cruelly.

    Suddenly Fran threw her arms around Carol slamming the big orbs against Carol?s and began crushing her boobs with her own. Fully aware that this had become a milking fight Carol responded by gripping Fran around her back, her left arm around her back, her right over her shoulder, and wriggled her breasts against hers. The response was dramatic and the opaque fluid ran down their bodies in long runs to the mattress.

    Their torsos twisted and squirmed as each fought to inflict maximum torsion and pressure on her opponent?s breasts resulting in Fran?s left breast pointing upwards, her thick nipple resting against Carol?s breast, milk spraying upwards, while Carol?s left boob was forced out of the crush sideways, her nipple squirting with every twist and turn. Their squirming ceased as they tired and they staggered around the mattress pad trying to crush the last breath and last drop of milk from each other. Each woman groaned as they squeezed each other almost senseless, their thick pads of gland-rich breast meat crushing their lungs. I wouldn?t have been surprised if one of them passed-out for lack of air.

    Carol worked her right forearm across Fran?s muscular back and gripped her ponytail and, in desperation, tugged Fran?s head backwards, her other hand swung upwards to increase the pull on her hair. Fran yelled out as she felt her hair tear, but quick as a flash she followed Carol?s move and both of her hands were soon at work tearing at Carol?s hair and yanking her head backwards. Both women, now staring at the ceiling, screamed as they each wrenched hard on the other?s ponytail. Their screams really had the children yelling loudly now, but neither Callum nor I could not tear our eyes away from the fight to go to them.

    Carol yelled out as she felt her chest compress and copied Fran?s move. As the intensity of the brutal bear hug increased, their boobs appeared to be engulfing one another. Both girls were groaning as they crushed each other?s tits but Carol began a peculiar kind of whine as Fran?s hard nipples pressed deeply into the thick flesh and into the underlying milk glands. Realizing what was happening, Fran tried to increase the discomfort for Carol by twisting her breasts around in her flesh.

    The massive bulge of fighting tit flesh squeezed out between them as Carol ground back and both girls gasped loud and low as both the lack of breath and the pain of their crushed glands swept over them. I remembered what Fran had told me, that she could not lie on her stomach or get too close to someone because the compression of her boobs would restrict her ability to breath. That thought gave me an insight into how the two battling women must be feeling.

    For a while, Carol?s voluminous breast flesh swamped Fran?s and seemed to swallow her boobs completely, but as Fran struggled to break free from the all enveloping breast flesh of Carol she managed to partially wrench her breasts free, dragging masses of breast flesh out at her sides as she did so, her breasts and Carol?s mashing together and swamping each other for several seconds before the mountain of sweaty flesh squeezed and oozed out in all directions, their finger thick nipples squeezed awkwardly out of the crush.

    There didn?t appear to be much happening for a few moments, but I knew that they were squeezing the breath from each other?s body. Their tits compressed painfully until finally, both women had had enough and violently separated with a gasp of air. Exhausted and frustrated at being prevented from crushing the breath from Fran, Carol stood back a step and regarded her enemy from beneath her brows, her face reddened from her exertions. Her eyes turned to the tops of their sockets as she placed her hands on her knees, making her large boobs swing forwards while she gasped desperately for breath. Fran was standing some three feet from Carol, trying to catch her breath. Her big boobs jutted out proudly in front of her like massive corbels. The women?s tits were completely transformed, reddened and looking softer as though they had squeezed the life out of them. I noticed however, how much more freely they swung having stretched.

    Fran slipped her hands behind her back ready for the next round and Carol, still breathing heavily, came forward to resume the battle. They circled on the springy mat, their boobs swinging as they did so, then plunging at one another, swung their big breasts at each others. A couple of resounding smacks later Carol backed off a couple of steps; ?Well?? Fran said to Carol; ?Given in already?? Carol grinned (or grimaced) and standing up straight placed her hands on her hips:

    ?Hell, no!!? she said, still gasping. ?I?m thinking that if this is all about who?s got the best tits we should USE them!? she concluded and sliding her hands under the folds of her sweaty breasts, now seriously reddened from the fight, hoisted them up. (I supposed that holding the heavy things relieved the pain and discomfort of them stretching, but if they were as heavy as Fran?s they would make her arms ache) but Carol suddenly charged forwards ploughing her firmly held breasts, hard nipples first into the soft meat of Fran?s sore boobs.

    The attack took Fran by surprise and it knocked her backwards a couple of steps. Suddenly her face turned to thunder and she grasped at her own breasts sliding her hands under the large firm, heavy bags of glands and cellulite holding the long breasts up on her hands. But before she could get a firm grip Carol charged her again. A loud wet ?SMACK!? rang out as Fran shakily stood her ground, then as she scooped up her 10 - 14 lbs of breast meat Carol rammed them again.

    This time it was more painful for Fran as holding them firmly frontward meant that they received a full-on assault, Carol?s boobs ploughing firmly into their areolas and nipples. This ram caused more milk to leak from both women and Fran tottered backwards towards the wall, but before she reached it Carol came at her again and powered her against the wall with a house-shaking ?WHAM!? Renewed yelling from the children welled up and both women grunted loudly from the pain.

    Fran pushed herself off the wall by her ass throwing herself forwards to ram her hand held weapons at Carol?s. A shriek burst from Carol as her boobs were slammed into her own hands, which nipped the voluminous flesh painfully. Anger on her face, Carol rammed her weapons at Fran?s as hard as she could slamming her against the wall again. This time Carol acted quickly and pinned Fran there with her boobs, trying to crush her nipples deep into her breast flesh. Fran yelled out as the hard fore-glands behind her nipples were forced into the firm ball of glands deep inside her orbs.

    Carol put her weight behind the attack and leaning against Fran ground her boobs around in Fran?s. ?Give in bitch!? Carol snarled through her gritted teeth into Fran?s face. ?Fuck off!!? Fran spat and though in pain, began to push back as hard as she could, her breast flesh pushing deep into Carol?s as she advanced forcing Carol to begin to retreat. The constant groaning and yelling from both women betrayed the pain they were causing each other and they were glad to separate.

  4. #4
    HB Forum Owner PiersKnight's Avatar
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    Re: Carol Smith and Frances Knight's Final Battle

    They swore bitterly at one another as they circled again then Fran strode quickly towards her equally busty enemy. Carol rapidly closed the space between them and the women fought for balance on the springy surface as they each began swatting and whacking the other?s breasts with her own hand held weapons. Despite the pain being caused to their sore, red raw boobs, they stood toe-to-toe clubbing and battering each other?s breasts to pulp. The slapping sounds and grunts and shouts from the women were pretty exciting and each time their large boobs collided each woman let out a shout.

    I calculated that breast hitting breast must have done so with a combined force of ten to fourteen pounds (each one weighing at least 5lbs and probably nearer 7lbs), The weight of each mutual blow was of course doubled, each pair of breasts pounding into each other with the combined force of 14 lbs plus whatever body weight they chose to put behind it. I watched goggle eyed at their thigh and torso muscles rippling as the women swayed as they fought, both standing their ground. Carol?s boobs were clearly much heavier than Fran?s as they knocked them out of shape.

    Both sets of breasts were suffering from this treatment, and continued to swell, but their already big nipples had really thickened up and lengthened at the stimulation. Their areolas were a dark blood engorged red and provided mounds for their proud nipples to fight from as they flicked and raked across one another, their hips twisting with their violent motion. The squelching, slapping sounds of their heavy breasts pounding into each other, - a sound reminiscent of heavy bags of fat and water being smacked together, sent opaque liquid spattering from their tits and leaving white droplets on each other?s skin.

    ?They must be desperate to win!? Callum said above the noise of the yelling children. ?They?ll really pay for that over the next few days!? I said. I was surprised at how erect their nipples remained as the women?s tits knocked the remaining milk out of each other. The fight had stimulated the girls in other ways too, as their ovum soaked G strings showed, their wet labia?s prominently bulging through the material, the fluid, mingled with sweat, running down their thighs.

    Both women were really yelling at each other now, from pain as well as anger, as their hand held weapons slapped each other all over the place, from side to side and upwards, knocking one temporarily from one of the women?s hands to swing by her side before being scooped up again and thrown, - almost literally, - back into the fray. There was so much riding on this, it had to be a fight to the finish, but every time a breast was dropped it was plain that their boobs were red raw, bruised and sagging, the beating now causing them both pain.

    Fran?s distress was palpable as Carol smashed her tits repeatedly on top of an exhausted Fran?s boobs ?Oooh? Fran gasped at each blow. ?Does that hurt?? Callum innocently asked. ?Hurt?? I said; ?It?s like being hit with two 5 lb or 7 lb weights. - In fact, they ARE seven pound weights!!!? I said, as audible thumps and shrieks burst from the ?ring? in addition to the squelching, slapping sounds.

    Their battering had intensified and tears of pain as well as sweat was streaming down their faces and chests, but still they fought on, each trying to force the other to submit. ?It?s amazing how hard women will fight when they have kids at home to feed!? Callum remarked with surprising insight. ?Those kids won?t be on the tit tonight!? I said with certainty looking at the reddened boobs. Fran rallied and managed to get in a few devastating breast ?hammer? blows to Carol?s tits. Knocking them from her hands.

    With each blow and swing the two fighters were yelling at each other like manic female tennis players. Their breath was now juddering as they battered one another around the ?ring?. Their boobs looked swollen, bruised, discolored and very sore to me. But taking advantage of Carol?s obvious exhaustion, Fran persisted with Carol?s ploy and raising herself onto her tip-toes slammed both heavy tits down on the tops of Carols as hard as she could.

    Carol?s breast skin was nipped badly as it wrapped around her own fingers and her knees buckled as she was ?hammered? but still tried to retaliate, but it was no good as holding her tits up just meant they got more battering. After Fran?s next downwards slam Carol?s tits were knocked from her hands, but Fran was quickly at her again with her loose breasts. Carol gritted her teeth and fought back just as hard. Their boobs looked swollen and discoloured to me as they smacked into and across each other, then Carol?s knees gave way altogether and she overbalanced through sheer exhaustion and by the weight of her own tits and fell to the mat on her knees.

    ?Get up!? Callum called, standing up suddenly, but she dropped forwards onto her hands and stood there on all fours where her ravaged reddened and bruised breasts swung like spent udders, their length brushing the fighting mat. Fran breathlessly pointed out; ?The big difference between us is that I use my hand weights and train my horses almost every day, while that fat idle drunken bitch is just is just an unfit couch potato!? she gasped cruelly intending to demoralize her, then savagely kicked the breast nearest to her. ?Hey!!! Hey!! There?s no need for that! She?s all in!? I said as I watched her crumple to the mat flat on her tits, where she lay struggling for breath. ?You owe me a house you fucking bitch!!? Fran snarled. ?I told her it pays to be fit!? Callum said, ?Well this must be the unfittest bitch I?ve ever come across!? Fran gasped contemptuously. ?AND I?ve proved my tits are better than her flabby milk bags!? Carol began trying to get up but she was so beat she just rolled onto her side in a half foetal position, caressing her sore and battered tits in her arms. Callum came forwards and dropped Carol?s bathrobe across her sweat soaked body.


    Piers K.

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    Inactive Member Jessikafights's Avatar
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    Re: Carol Smith and Frances Knight's Final Battle

    Heh! Heh! Good stuff, though I'm not much into titfighting ... rather give me straight forward fighting ... winks!
    A straight bitch is just one who hasn't tasted pussy yet!

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    HB Forum Owner PiersKnight's Avatar
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    Exclamation Re: Carol Smith and Frances Knight's Final Battle

    Quote Originally Posted by Jessikafights View Post
    Heh! Heh! Good stuff, though I'm not much into titfighting ... rather give me straight forward fighting ... winks!
    That's ok. I also have some great catfights for you by me and my protege Sara White Doe.

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    Exclamation Re: Carol Smith and Frances Knight's Final Battle

    DISCLAIMER: As Carol Smith is based closely on a very pretty, extremely busty blonde woman in my street I decided to change the names of some of the characters in this story.


    CAROL AND FRAN’S FINAL BATTLE

    There was an air of excitement and expectation on Saturday 31 May in both Carol’s house and in mine. Carol Smith had no less than three lovers visit her house that day. Which of then, I wondered would she favour and invite to the big titfight. There was a garrulous spat between the women in the street as Fran got into her car to drive to the stables, then I had to put up with loud music thundering through the wall and the sound of her kids yelling and arguing

    Well, the rest of that Saturday all Fran’s talk about what she would do to Carol the next day certainly got our ‘juices’ flowing and it made that Saturday night the best night of sex ever, but rather than taking it out in furious humping, she, we, both took things slowly so as to prolong it and enjoy each other more. As my ‘tool’ was busy inside her, she thrust her big milky ***** in my face. I knew from the appearance of her hard, erect thumb thick inch long ******s what she wanted. I sucked one fat ****** and mounded areola into my mouth and was richly rewarded. I know of nothing better than to be plunging slowly in and out of my wife while being rewarded with squirts of rich breast milk from her thick ****** inside my mouth. Fran enjoyed having her breasts suckled as much as I enjoyed milking her; both of us in perfect rhythm, - her breast squirting it’s contents into my mouth in time with me squirting my juice into her. Needless to say we both wound up covered in sex juices and milk from Fran’s gland thickened breasts.

    In Fran’s ecstasy throes we rolled and tumbled all over the bed, her huge H cup ***** smothering my face on occasion and finally burying my head completely and, with a great “THUMP” we wound up on the floor rug by the bed. That wasn’t the end of it and our passionate, sweaty rolling continued and I felt the tremendous weight of her swollen ***** as they slapped me around my head. I tried to imagine myself wrestling her nude (as I effectively was by now) and that only made me *** more until I was exhausted. Fran still had plenty of energy, she certainly has more stamina than I do and probably more stamina than an Ever Ready bunny! I pitied Carol as I looked forwards to tomorrow and the battle of the big, heavy *****. I made a point of telling Fran that I’d read, with some concern, that lactating ***** are more sensitive than usual: “Naw,” she said: “In some ways they are, but it won’t make much difference if we’re both in the same condition!” she said confidently. I was also reminded that big breasts are less sensitive because of the thickness of the cellulite covering the glands. She confided in me that her ******s and breasts tingled with the thought of using them against Carol’s.

    Fran was a bit flustered on Sunday morning that her mother was away that weekend and unable to take baby Alex. She had been counting on her to make sure the baby was out of the way while she had her pre-arranged fight with Carol. Fran almost called it off when her mother said that she couldn’t take Alex for the weekend, as she usually does, so I reassured her that I would tend to young Alex’s needs as I watched her put her horse tackle in her car and set off for the livery stables. About the same time Carol’s current man friend pulled up in his *******d red car. Callum was a tall red headed man and wore a smart maroon colored casual leather jacket over a black T shirt, dark blue jeans and reddish brown cowboy boots. Carol greeted him at the door in a flimsy bed-shift, which showed her huge, firm ***** off a treat, their almost conical areolas looking somewhat engorged. Her two older children were going out for the day with one of her friends. I wondered if Corbin was to remain at home while his mother fought with my wife.

    Carol and Callum smooched explicitly on the doorstep for a few minutes, groping each other openly, then they went inside. The door slammed and I heard their feet running up the stairs and Corbin strike up a lusty wailing. I busied myself preparing the fighting mat in the empty spare bedroom which was about 13’6” x 10’. I brought some old mattresses out of the loft, two 3 foot wide singles and two 5 feet double mattresses and lashed the carry handles together forming a well sprung ‘mat’ about 10ft x 6’3”, and extended it by the addition of the two single mattresses end to end. The 10 feet x 12 feet 6 inches pad made a peculiar shape with its 2ft 6inches spur, and it only just fitted the room leaving three feet six inches along one side for the four dining room chairs and free-standing convection heater and was flush against two walls. All the while I was preparing the fighting area I could hear Carol and Callum lovemaking, the bed and floor creaking and groaning and Carol’s loud cries as she climaxed. The noise was driving me nuts and made me incredibly *****, so that almost the whole time I was laying the mattresses I had a massive ‘hard’ on, my thoughts of the impending titfight between these two big busted women only added to it.

    I switched on the convection heater in the room and just had time to deal with baby Alex in the adjoining room when the doorbell rang and there stood Callum and Carol with Corbin sleeping peacefully in his pram. Carol had a pale pink bathrobe on and little else from what I could see. My eyes caught immediately by her huge ***** clearly hanging free and swelling out her robe attractively. “OK, where’s the room we’re to fight in!” Carol asked straight to the point, smiling and looking at me in the knowing way that she always did. It was Callum who asked if he could “park Corbin in the lounge.” He was a Scot, I should have guessed from the name and his red hair. It reminded me that Fran is half Scottish. I agreed, then showed them both upstairs. “Where is the fat titted **** then?” Carol said in her less than charming manner. I was just explaining that Fran was probably on her way back right now when I heard her car pull up in the drive. I went downstairs to tell her that our ‘guests’ had arrived. “Damn. They’re early!” she said. Fran looked quite exciting to me, her jeans sitting on her broad hips like hipsters, her checked, open fronted shirt tied in a knot under her *****, her sweat stained white bra barely able to hold the weight of her ‘H cup’ ****. “There’s no time for a shower now, I’ll just have to fight that ****ing cow’s udders as I am.” -- “Shhh. She’ll hear you!” I said. “I don’t care!” Fran said in a loud voice for Carol to hear. “Did you hear that, you *****?” Fran called as she went up the stairs.

    I went into the fighting room to tell Carol and Callum that Fran was just getting changed and produced a pair of Fran’s black stockings which would be used to bind the women’s hands behind their backs to make sure the titfight didn’t degenerate into an ugly catfight or brawl. “Uggh. I’m not having that cow’s filthy stockings anywhere near me!” Carol protested. I assured her that they had been washed and that they were perfectly clean. Fran then came into the room wearing her pale blue bath robe, here plainly loose breasts bulging through the towelling material. “Whew; it’s hot in here!” was the first thing she said. Callum leaned over from his seat and switched off the heater. “We were just looking at the bindings,” I informed Fran, “And Carol’s changed her mind about using them,” I added. “Hmmph! Afraid that my **** will beat hers I expect!!” Fran said pointedly staring hard at Carol’s eyes.

    “Hey. That’s not fair!” Carol protested. “My **** are firmer and heavier and will beat her soft puppies to mush!” she added vehemently. “So prove it!” Fran snapped taking off her robe and handing it to me. I knew that the only exercise Carol got was ****ing her boyfriends, she also smoked, drank too much (wine, in her case) and ate a little too much, while Fran broke and trained her own horses and was keen on her modest weight training. If this fight came down to stamina I was reasonably sure that Fran would win. But, I must admit to some trepidation as it looked to me, now the women were in the same room, as though Carol‘s **** were bigger. “Hey. *****!” Carol snapped. “I don’t have to prove anything,” she said as she dropped her bathrobe on the mattress pad and scooped each of her huge breasts up onto her hands and began juggling them up and down. “Not when I can do this honey!” she added. “This enough proof for you?”

    I handed a stretch stocking to Callum, who didn’t notice as he was too busy gawping open mouthed at Fran’s impressive bust which she had just lifted. “Hey!!!” Carol snapped at him

    “I mean prove your flabby fat bags against my **** you stupid cow!!“ Fran said. “So. You ARE ready to have your fat soft little **** pulped by mine!!” Carol grated as she walked towards Fran on the springy surface, dropping her heavy ***** and dropping her hands to her wide hips. “That’ll be the day! *****!!” Fran snarled back spitting the last word out explosively and releasing her own heavy hangers took a step across the pad towards her enemy, her hands now on her hips. Because of the sprung surface of the pad, their ***** bounced and swung as they walked, their heavy, basket ball sized gland rich orbs stretching the rest of the breast tissue as it hung from their chests, the extraordinary sight drawing both mine and Callum’s eyes. Both girls were wearing just their G-string briefs and their huge ***** swung from side to side above their waists and bounced gently as they moved toward each other on the springy surface.

    “So! This flabby milk-cow thinks her **** are tougher than mine!” Carol challenged. “No. I don’t think they’re tougher than yours. - I KNOW they’re tougher!” Fran stated baldly. “So prove it!” Carol said suddenly straightening and pushing her ample breasts out. “Yeah!” Callum suddenly said in his enthusiasm. “Show us who’s the best!” he goaded. Carol turned and glared at him for a moment. “Mine are best Callum, and I aim to beat this ****‘s **** to ****!!!” she growled.

    And with that each woman took a step towards her equally busty opponent, her hands on her wide hips. Still almost two feet apart their breasts met and Carol nudged Fran’s rack with her own pushing them across her chest. “Oh Yeah?” Fran said as her breasts swung from the nudge. “Yeah!” Carol retorted. ***** bouncing, each woman withdrew a step and rammed them together, both women bouncing backwards a step with each shove, both still goading each other with their “Yeah?” -- “Yeah!” dialogue. They paused, red in the face.

    Fran reached behind her head to tie her hair in a pony tail, the awesome sight drawing appreciative stares from Callum, much to the annoyance of Carol. Pulling her pony tail to the front, Fran stooped forwards ensuring her 11 or 12 inch long **** swung forwards her familiar, hard ******s standing rigid. Her three inch areolas were not as big, or as dark as Carol’s but still pretty impressive. When she stood up again she cupped her hands under her voluminous ***** to ease the weight of her orbs for a moment, then dropped them, where they rolled on her chest and lower ribs for a couple of seconds, their natural firmness and surprising pertness displaying them to their best advantage.

    “Showboating *****!!” Carol spat and not to be outdone reached behind her head to tighten her pony tail tie, her breasts thrusting out in front of her as she did so, a determined look on her pretty face. At this angle it looked like her hardening ******s were trying to rival Fran’s. Because Carol was a little smaller than Fran and her torso a little slimmer (while her *** and thighs are fatter) the illusion of her **** being bigger than Fran’s was achieved. But her ******s and areolas were certainly no illusion! They were clearly bigger than Fran’s and looked just as firm, her brown areolas covering most of the front of her big rounded breasts, her ******s as thick as thumbs.

    Fran stood waiting with her hands on her hips, her abdomen drawn in. Carol knew this and deliberately stooped forwards to shake her ***** from side to side, deliberately slapping them together then letting them settle. Then she stood up straight.

    Finally, Carol dropped her hands onto her hips. “You ready now?” Fran asked in an exasperated tone. “Yeah. Ready to kick your ***!” Carol snarled, facing Fran. “Hold on!” I said. “What about these - to make sure it doesn’t turn into another brawl?” I asked waving the limp black stockings at them. “Oh yeah. I forgot!” Fran said. “Do I HAVE to?” Carol said sounding like a recalcitrant schoolgirl. “No, you don’t have to, but this is to stop this from turning into a messy catfight!” I said. “You DID agree to it!” Callum pointed out. “I think we can be trusted to behave; after all, there’s a lot at stake here,” Fran calmly said. Both women gripped their wrists behind their backs, which had the effect of thrusting their **** out even further. Callum and I watched this amazing sight and retreated to our chairs to watch.

    “I’ll enjoy seeing some humility from you, you arrogant *****!” Carol breathed, her gaze not faltering from Fran’s face, then began striding cautiously forwards, her huge ***** swinging in circular motions. Fran moved towards Carol to block her, but Carol dodged to one side, then the other, Fran swinging from side to side in front of her to block her. The two women were both ‘thick set’, but certainly not fat as with their hands behind their backs they circled, their huge orbs swinging suspended seemingly from the thinner ‘neck’s of their breasts, the flesh stretching as the heavy objects swung harder as suddenly, - they smacked them audibly into each other. The icy looks these women glared at one another as the noise of their firm fighting **** ripped the air were betrayed by the obvious heat of the fight as their faces grew redder and their **** grew redder and seemed to begin to swell up from the stimulation of their first encounter. Their areolas were dark red and shiny, their thick ******s fully erect and hard, which they used to good effect by jabbing them into the now sensitized meat of each other’s **** and areolas

    Then Carol darted forwards to rush Fran and barge her out of the way with her ***** or knock her over, but Fran would not be moved and the right sides of their chests met with an audible “THUMP”, their ribs reverberating. “Ouch!” I thought, “That MUST have hurt!” as they squashed. Both women barged their loose breasts at each other two or three times more followed by a rapid volley of slapping sounds as the big gland filled bags laid into each other as the women twisted their shoulders. Their ‘H cup’ ***** (each almost a foot long) flew through the air as they pounded one another, the loud, heavy slaps betraying the sheer weight of each huge orb. Their big **** rolled and swung vigorously around all over their chests as each women struggled to dominate the other, their long pony tails swinging behind them. Her feet spread wide for balance, Fran tried to use the weight of her chest to push Carol backwards. Carol wasn’t taking that however, and barged back as hard as she could.

    In the next instant, Fran gasped as their breasts met with a loud smack, then parted to be slammed together again as the determined Carol rammed her chest into Fran’s again and again. As the women fought ‘*** for tat’ (or should that be *** for ***!) grunts of exertion and anger squeezed from their lungs as they bodily shoved each other across the mat. Their big ***** juddered and swung each time they parted, but they looked, incredibly, firmer, their thick ******s longer and thicker and their areolas, stimulated from the physical contact, darkening and mounding up on their breasts. “My **** will beat yours to mush!” Carol asserted breathlessly between heavy slams as she arched her back to thrust her ***** beneath Fran’s, pushing them upwards.

    As her ***** bounced back down to her chest and juddered Fran fought back battering Carol’s **** with her own, twisting her back and broad shoulders swinging her heavy orbs at her, dragging Carol’s breasts with her hard ******s, across her chest. Carol cried out at the painful pull on her breasts as they stretched from her chest muscles, tearing at the muscles and skin. She pulled them sharply away in the same direction. Their suddenly released breasts bounced back down to their chests and swung for a moment before the two women slammed their big fat ***** together again. This time they squirmed and twisted this way and that, both gasping and grunting hard as their **** fought, smacking each other from side to side.

    Then they really got started and went at each other at breathtaking speed, each woman’s ***** clattering across her opponent’s. Callum and I both found ourselves urging our partners on. The women seemed equally matched as they tore one another’s ***** around each other’s chest. This was literally on the edge of the seat stuff and the two girls gasped insults at each other as, with their hands behind their backs, they swung their huge orbs. Callum, I noticed, was clutching at his groin as he shouted advice and encouragement to Carol.

    The battle was a joy to follow as I watched the women working out their moves, and dancing and dodging one another’s thrusts and swings. The mats were saturated with their sweaty foot prints and the women’s ***** were soon transformed as they shone under their film of sweat. The veins on their breasts were now standing out as a prominent blue and dark red tracery and they seemed to swing further and harder as they began to lose the integrity of the supporting muscles as they stretched. The women were now bellowing hoarsely at each other, real fury in their voices, as well as pain, as they staggered with the exhaustion of the fight. I worried that the heavy swinging might tear a supporting ligament in a breast, but the women seemed willing to risk it.



    The increasing noise of the women fighting obviously disturbed Alex in the other room and he began to cry. This was disastrously distracting for the two mothers and the neuroendocrine reflex was triggered in both women. I could not tear my eyes away from the fight to go and tend to Alex and the women determinedly continued to fight with their huge ***** despite the fact that the ‘let down’ reflex meant that their breast milk was now in free flow and spattering each woman as breast whacked breast.

    Carol’s son, Corbin, now started yelling downstairs in his pram. The noise was irritating and I thought that it would trigger their maternal responses and stop them fighting, but I was wrong. It seemed to drive the women on to redouble their efforts. I had not considered the protective instinct and if anything, each woman fought harder, nominally to protect her baby and each in an effort to deprive the other woman’s child of breast milk. Their reddened breasts swung and juddered as the heavy basketball sized bulging orbs hung from their chests, stretching the connecting breast tissue cruelly.

    Suddenly Fran threw her arms around Carol slamming the big orbs against Carol’s and began crushing her ***** with her own. Fully aware that this had become a milking fight Carol responded by gripping Fran around her back, her left arm around her back, her right over her shoulder, and wriggled her breasts against hers. The response was dramatic and the opaque fluid ran down their bodies in long runs to the mattress. Their torsos twisted and squirmed as each fought to inflict maximum torsion and pressure on her opponent’s breasts resulting in Fran’s left breast pointing upwards, her thick ****** resting against Carol’s breast, milk spraying upwards, while Carol’s left **** was forced out of the crush sideways, her ****** squirting with every twist and turn. Their squirming ceased as they tired and they staggered around the mattress pad trying to crush the last breath and last drop of milk from each other. Each woman groaned as they squeezed each other almost senseless, their thick pads of gland-rich breast meat crushing their lungs. I wouldn’t have been surprised if one of them passed-out for lack of air.

    Carol worked her right forearm across Fran’s muscular back and gripped her pony tail and, in desperation, tugged Fran’s head backwards, her other hand swung upwards to increase the pull on her hair. Fran yelled out as she felt her hair tear, but quick as a flash she followed Carol’s move and both of her hands were soon at work tearing at Carol’s hair and yanking her head backwards. Both women, now staring at the ceiling, screamed as they each wrenched hard on the other’s pony tail. Their screams really had the children yelling loudly now, but neither Callum or I could not tear our eyes away from the fight to go to them.

    Carol yelled out as she felt her chest compress and copied Fran’s move. As the intensity of the brutal bear hug increased, their ***** appeared to be engulfing one another. Both girls were groaning as they crushed each other’s **** but Carol began a peculiar kind of whine as Fran’s hard ******s pressed deeply into the thick flesh and into the underlying milk glands. Realising what was happening, Fran tried to increase the discomfort for Carol by twisting her breasts around in her flesh. The massive bulge of fighting *** flesh squeezed out between them as Carol ground back and both girls gasped loud and low as both the lack of breath and the pain of their crushed glands swept over them. I remembered what Fran had told me, that she could not lie on her stomach or get too close to someone because the compression of her ***** would restrict her ability to breath. That thought gave me an insight into how the two battling women must be feeling.

    For a while, Carol’s voluminous breast flesh swamped Fran’s and seemed to swallow her ***** completely, but as Fran struggled to break free from the all enveloping breast flesh of Carol she managed to partially wrench her breasts free, dragging masses of breast flesh out at her sides as she did so, her breasts and Carol’s mashing together and swamping each other for several seconds before the mountain of sweaty flesh squeezed and oozed out in all directions, their finger thick ******s squeezed awkwardly out of the crush. There didn’t appear to be much happening for a few moments, but I knew that they were squeezing the breath from each other’s body.

    Their **** compressed painfully until finally, both women had had enough and violently separated with a gasp of air. Exhausted and frustrated at being prevented from crushing the breath from Fran, Carol stood back a step and regarded her enemy from beneath her brows, her face reddened from her exertions. Her eyes turned to the tops of their sockets as she placed her hands on her knees, making her large ***** swing forwards while she gasped desperately for breath. Fran was standing some three feet from Carol, trying to catch her breath. Her big ***** jutted out proudly in front of her like massive corbels. The women’s **** were completely transformed, reddened and looking softer as though they had squeezed the life out of them. I noticed however, how much more freely they swung having stretched.

    Fran slipped her hands behind her back ready for the next round and Carol, still breathing heavily, came forward to resume the battle. They circled on the springy mat, their ***** swinging as they did so, then plunging at one another, swung their big breasts at each others. A couple of resounding smacks later Carol backed off a couple of steps; “Well?” Fran said to Carol; “Given in already?” Carol grinned (or grimaced) and standing up straight placed her hands on her hips: “****, no!!” she said, still gasping. “I’m thinking that if this is all about who’s got the best **** we should USE them!” she concluded and sliding her hands under the folds of her sweaty breasts, now seriously reddened from the fight, hoisted them up. (I supposed that holding the heavy things relieved the pain and discomfort of them stretching, but if they were as heavy as Fran’s they would make her arms ache) but Carol suddenly charged forwards ploughing her firmly held breasts, hard ******s first into the soft meat of Fran’s sore *****.


    The attack took Fran by surprise and it knocked her backwards a couple of steps. Suddenly her face turned to thunder and she grasped at her own breasts sliding her hands under the large firm, heavy bags of glands and cellulite holding the long breasts up on her hands. But before she could get a firm grip Carol charged her again. A loud wet “SMACK!” rang out as Fran shakily stood her ground, then as she scooped up her 10 - 14 lbs of breast meat Carol rammed them again. This time it was more painful for Fran as holding them firmly frontwards meant that they received a full-on assault, Carol’s ***** ploughing firmly into their areolas and ******s. This ram caused more milk to leak from both women and Fran tottered backwards towards the wall, but before she reached it Carol came at her again and powered her against the wall with a house-shaking “WHAM!” Renewed yelling from the children welled up and both women grunted loudly from the pain.

    Fran pushed herself off the wall by her *** throwing herself forwards to ram her hand held weapons at Carol’s. A shriek burst from Carol as her ***** were slammed into her own hands which nipped the voluminous flesh painfully. Anger on her face, Carol rammed her weapons at Fran’s as hard as she could slamming her against the wall again. This time Carol acted quickly and pinned Fran there with her *****, trying to crush her ******s deep into her breast flesh. Fran yelled out as the hard fore-glands behind her ******s were forced into the firm ball of glands deep inside her orbs. Carol put her weight behind the attack and leaning against Fran ground her ***** around in Fran’s. “Give in *****!” Carol snarled through her gritted teeth into Fran’s face. “**** off!!” Fran spat and though in pain, began to push back as hard as she could, her breast flesh pushing deep into Carol’s as she advanced forcing Carol to begin to retreat. The constant groaning and yelling from both women betrayed the pain they were causing each other and they were glad to separate.

    They swore bitterly at one another as they circled again then Fran strode quickly towards her equally busty enemy. Carol rapidly closed the space between them and the women fought for balance on the springy surface as they each began swatting and whacking the other’s breasts with her own hand held weapons. Despite the pain being caused to their sore, red raw *****, they stood toe to toe clubbing and battering each other’s breasts to pulp. The slapping sounds and grunts and shouts from the women were pretty exciting and each time their large ***** collided each woman let out a shout. I calculated that breast hitting breast must have done so with a combined force of ten to fourteen pounds (each one weighing at least 5lbs and probably nearer 7lbs), The weight of each mutual blow was of course doubled, each pair of breasts pounding into each other with the combined force of 14 lbs plus whatever body weight they chose to put behind it. I watched goggle eyed at their thigh and torso muscles rippling as the women swayed as they fought, both standing their ground. Carol’s ***** were clearly much heavier than Fran’s as they knocked them out of shape.

    Both sets of breasts were suffering from this treatment, and continued to swell, but their already big ******s had really thickened up and lengthened at the stimulation. Their areolas were a dark blood engorged red and provided mounds for their proud ******s to fight from as they flicked and raked across one another, their hips twisting with their violent motion. The squelching, slapping sounds of their heavy breasts pounding into each other, - a sound reminiscent of heavy bags of fat and water being smacked together, sent opaque liquid spattering from their **** and leaving white droplets on each other’s skin. “They must be desperate to win!” Callum said above the noise of the yelling children. “They’ll really pay for that over the next few days!” I said. I was surprised at how erect their ******s remained as the women’s **** knocked the remaining milk out of each other. The fight had stimulated the girls in other ways too, as their ovum soaked G strings showed, their wet *****’s prominently bulging through the material, the fluid, mingled with sweat, running down their thighs.

    Both women were really yelling at each other now, from pain as well as anger, as their hand held weapons slapped each other all over the place, from side to side and upwards, knocking one temporarily from one of the women’s hands to swing by her side before being scooped up again and thrown, - almost literally, - back into the fray. There was so much riding on this, it had to be a fight to the finish, but every time a breast was dropped it was plain that their ***** were red raw, bruised and sagging, the beating now causing them both pain. Fran’s distress was palpable as Carol smashed her **** repeatedly on top of an exhausted Fran’s ***** “Oooh” Fran gasped at each blow. “Does that hurt?” Callum innocently asked. “Hurt?” I said; “It’s like being hit with two 5 lb or 7 lb weights. - In fact, they ARE seven pound weights!!!” I said, as audible thumps and shrieks burst from the ‘ring’ in addition to the squelching, slapping sounds.

    Their battering had intensified and tears of pain as well as sweat was streaming down their faces and chests, but still they fought on, each trying to force the other to submit. “It’s amazing how hard women will fight when they have kids at home to feed!” Callum remarked with surprising insight. “Those kids won’t be on the *** tonight!” I said with certainty looking at the reddened *****. Fran rallied and managed to get in a few devastating breast ‘hammer’ blows to Carol’s ****. Knocking them from her hands. With each blow and swing the two fighters were yelling at each other like manic female tennis players. Their breath was now juddering as they *******d one another around the ‘ring’. Their ***** looked swollen, bruised, discoloured and very sore to me. But taking advantage of Carol’s obvious exhaustion, Fran persisted with Carol’s ploy and raising herself onto her tip-toes slammed both heavy **** down on the tops of Carols as hard as she could.

    Carol’s breast skin was nipped badly as it wrapped around her own fingers and her knees buckled as she was ‘hammered’ but still tried to retaliate, but it was no good as holding her **** up just meant they got more battering. After Fran’s next downwards slam Carol’s **** were knocked from her hands, but Fran was quickly at her again with her loose breasts. Carol gritted her teeth and fought back just as hard. Their ***** looked swollen and discoloured to me as they smacked into and across each other, then Carol’s knees gave way altogether and she overbalanced through sheer exhaustion and by the weight of her own **** and fell to the mat on her knees. “Get up!” Callum called, standing up suddenly, but she dropped forwards onto her hands and stood there on all fours where her ravaged reddened and bruised breasts swung like spent udders, their length brushing the fighting mat.

    Fran breathlessly pointed out; “The big difference between us is that I use my hand weights and train my horses almost every day, while that fat idle drunken ***** is just is just an unfit couch potato!” she gasped cruelly intending to demoralize her, then savagely kicked the breast nearest to her. “Hey!!! Hey!! There’s no need for that! She’s all in!” I said as I watched her crumple to the mat flat on her ****, where she lay struggling for breath. “You owe me a house you ****ing *****!!” Fran snarled. “I told her it pays to be fit!” Callum said, “Well this must be the unfittest ***** I’ve ever come across!” Fran gasped contemptuously. “AND I’ve proved my **** are better than her flabby milk bags!” Carol began trying to get up but she was so beat she just rolled onto her side in a half foetal position, caressing her sore and *******d **** in her arms. Callum came forwards and dropped Carol’s bath robe across her sweat soaked body.


    Piers Knight
    Last edited by PiersKnight; March 27th, 2021 at 07:19 AM. Reason: Correcting errors.

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