WARNING: This is a fantasy of extreme nature about violent, brave, lusty people who are willing to personally suffer the consequences or reap the rewards of their actions with out regards to the norms of modern society or the qualms of conscious. Don’t read it if you are not interested in such topics or at all squeamish. Also, make sure you are mature enough to know the difference between fantasy and reality. This is not a how to book.

Taped Fists to the Finish by Mr. Cage

My wife is a former body builder and session wrestler; she’s also a brutal fighter and sadist. She gets off on beating other women and brutalizing them. I met her when she was 22 and already clit heavy on testosterone, HGH and a medical kit of illegal substances. I was very big, fit and strong. I managed to beat her in many of our expensive rough matches and fucked her which was her most expensive session match rule. What that says about me and what it says about her is up to whoever has the power or the right, two very different things, to judge, I no longer ask those questions or give answers.

Anyway, it is not often perverted individuals find each other. Married a few years later she quickly produced two nearly normal children, a girl and a boy, then went back to her hardcore training life. She gave up on the muscle shows and concentrated on working out and finding fights. With the rise of trained fighters she started getting choked out and joint locked so she moved to pure fist fighting. And in the gyms and backrooms where women like her live out their demons in the underground there is a surprising number of tough, large fighters willing to risk a lot to get at each other for money and domination.

Rebecca, my not so darling wife, currently stands 5’9’’ and weighs 188 pounds, with enough feminine padding to see her through a long fight. Cut body builders last five minutes in a real fight. If they don’t win they run out of gas. So in terms of rock hard muscle she is probably 155 or 160. Now another major feature, before she worked out she had a 38c bust, which all but disappeared after she lost her body fat. All she had left were enormous dark nipples set in half apple sized raised bumpy aureole. Her response was to pop in some 36d-cup silicon bags. With no body fat her tits looked very artificial, but with body fat they look almost like natural 39DDs. Then there is her enormous clit and fat pussy lips. Very tanned with dyed blonde hair and black eyebrows, her pussy lips and clit sleeve are dark brown. Her clit sleeve is also very thick and rough from all the abuse she gives it. It stands out like a thumb between her upper pussy lips and is as big as any I’ve seen. It also is a desperate to fuck as a cock. Add to that a pleasant, not beautiful, drug-squared face and that is my dangerous wife.

I came home from the tour of the six gym franchises we own around the state and she was working the bags in her gym. Our kids think she is crazy and they are right, but they are fit and healthy and don’t just text and play video games. Sweat was flying from her tanned skin as she pounded away probably imagining some woman’s womb as her target.

“Something upset you?”

“Hi, honey. Nope, that Arab bitch Fatima Yashar has agreed to fight me, taped fists to the finish, slave fight, the whole package and its set for August on her sponsor’s ranch outside of Dallas.”

“She’s that English-borne Arab ex-power lifter, what 6’2’’ 220 or so pounds. She’s the one with the enormous real tits? The one they call the Nose-breaker.”

“She calls herself the Nose-breaker. She’s a dyke cunt who makes her money whipping cringing masochists and roughing up straight women.”

“Yeah, but she also has a reputation. Beat up that black woman who put you out three years ago. And she killed that Israeli fighter you knocked out.”

The dark website video of the black woman beating my wife to a bloody pulp and then raping and beating her for six days was followed shortly thereafter by Fatima’s victory over the same black woman and her ten day brutalization. The black woman had yet to fight again. Six months later I saw the Israeli my wife had beat screaming as her nipples were bitten off and spit in her face. Fatima finished the fight stomping the Israelis face through the back of her skull, literally crushing her face.

“Those were was a no rules brawls. This is going to be a stand up fist fight. Her fat tits will weigh a ton by the end of ten minutes. We both put up 20k and the audience will be forty so that’s another 40k.”

“Forty! That means if you lose you have to take forty cocks, fists or dildos before the doctors get to you? Not to mention the to-be-determined number of days as her abused slave.”

She grunted angrily, “I’m not losing, she is! Not very inspiring are you asshole?”

I shook my head and replied, “I’m smart enough not to try to reason with you. I’ll make arrangements for the kids and travel. You just win this time.”

“I plan to. I’m going to turn those 42F cow tits into balloons then pop them. She’ll never be the same.”
In truth, if those two clashed I expected neither one of them would ever be the same, but one of them would be broken and ruined. I’m not sure Rebecca would survive the brutal humiliations for however long she was Fatima’s slave. More than one woman was rumored to have committed suicide after being released from Fatima’s care. Of course Rebecca had victims too, but no suicides just spent hollow-eyed druggies and emotional cripples.

And so on a hot night in August we ended up in a well kept horse barn. Thirty-five men and five women in masks and leisure clothes sweated on four sides of a ten by ten fighting pit dug into the floor and lined by wooden staves. The pit was only three feet deep allowing fighters to be bent backwards. The floor and sides were covered in moving pads, no sharp edges or solid hard surfaces, but nothing soft either. Two padded stands rose from opposite corners where a fallen fighter could be propped up and made ready if she could not stand. The sponsor introduced the women giving weights and records in recorded fist fights only, both had many private battles.

“Rebecca the visiting fighter: 5’9”, 192 pounds at weigh-in, fifteen victories and one defeat in knockout fist fighting”

“Fatima our house champion: 6’2’’, 225 pounds at weigh-in, ten victories and no losses in knockout fist fighting including one death in the pit by internal bleeding.”

“Rules are stand-up punching with fists, striking with elbows and forearms and head butts since all will happen and we don’t want to argue about what’s intentional and what’s not. The fight will be settled over an unlimited number of five minute rounds with one minute between normal rounds of unattended rest. No hitting once a knee, ass, tits, shoulders or face hits the ground. Each touch on the ground is one day of slavery, each ten seconds on the ground is a day of slavery at a count of sixty the fallen fighter will be stood up in her corner and the fight will be continued. By referees majority vote if the standee is still unconscious she will be propped up and blows restricted to the body until the end of the round. After a five minute rest the fight continues if she can stand on her own. If she can’t stand she receives a final two minutes of body punching and is declared the loser. If during the body beating she fights back the round is continued as normal. Loser’s slave points deducted from winners to determine eventual period of servitude. And the loser will serve the audience immediately afterwards”

The crowd grunted its approval. They loved these fights almost as much as the women did and they didn’t have to shed blood to get their perverse pleasure. Some of the skinny trophy wives loved rough fucking these big women when they were bloody and defenseless. Like the man said God created humans after he was disappointed in monkeys and then gave up creation as a bad job and took a vacation.

Nude and oiled, the women walked from opposite sides of the barn where they had waited behind curtains. Both were brown, from tanning by my wife and by nature for the Arab. I helped Rebecca in and the ranch owner did the same for Fatima. Then the three referees jumped in. They started taping the nude women’s fists back to the mid forearm. Once the traditional taping was done they made fists using hard rubber grips, with a place for the thumb to fix to. Then the hands were taped shut, no grabbing, wrestling or cat-fighting would be possible. The third ref stood back. He carried the charge rod to punish any violation and enforce the five minute long rounds, unlimited number to a final total knockout as judged by all three referees.

My short-haired dyed-blonde faced the larger raven haired Arab. Fatima’s hair was tied into a large pony tail that still brushed her mid back. Comparing them, my wife was definitely harder, maybe more muscular, but by far the harder body. Fatima looked like a giantess freak of nature, soft female flesh hung on a heavy hard muscled frame made even stranger by her wide lush hips, round belly and huge hanging udders. The two women’s mounds compared equally with extreme clits and fat lips wrought by years of better living through chemistry and brutal self and assisted abuse. There was a moment of silence as the referee looked to each woman.

Fatima violated the silence, “Jew bitch I will leave you a babbling moron with a broken cunt and missing soul.”

Rebecca snarled, “Jew? Yeah, maybe but my parents never went to a synagogue and I’ve only been to churches with my kids. There is no god you stupid fuck and if there were being a dyke whore showing off her fat clit to a bunch of men isn’t exactly on the list of saints or martyrs things to do before you die now is it.”

“It’s not about religion it’s about blood. I want yours, Jew cunt.”

“Crazy fucking towel heads, whatever, I’m going to put you down today bitch, then rape you until you need a new asshole and cunt.”

By then the men were roaring and laughing. The referee blew his whistle and held up three fingers, counting down to the bell ringing at the timekeeper’s table sitting up on a platform about two feet behind the last rank of the audience. I held my breath. I had seen my wife close to death more than once in these fights. Despite her madness I did love her and so did my kids. I would have stopped it if I could, but there was no stopping her, not now not ever.

Round One:

At the sound of a chime, my wife rushed from her corner. Fatima plants her feet and swings wide with her right, a haymaker way too early and useless against an experienced fist fighter like Rebecca. She simply ducked under the breezy punch and delivered five fast short punches to Fatima’s round stretch marked lower belly. Each punch sank in deeper than the last. Fatima grunted but stood straight and brought down a left elbow on the back of my wife’s hunched shoulders. Rebecca grunted and bobbed to the side, only to be caught by a left to the ear. She managed to stand her ground and drive a right up into Fatima’s jaw snapping the black pony tail like a whip. Fatima staggered back to the three foot wall.

Less than thirty seconds had passed and Rebecca had bruises on the Arab’s belly and a mark on her jaw. My wife pressed her advantage firing a short right to the left boob, moving the big fat hanging udder like it was a speed bag. Rebecca’s right came around for Fatima’s mouth, but the Arab blocked it and drove her left into my wife’s clit, down low. Rebecca froze for a second, but it was not the first time her fat clit had been smashed in a fight. The pause allowed Fatima to step to the side and crush my wife’s face with a right to the left cheek. My woman’s face snapped to the side and she staggered in the direction of the punch. Fatima dug a left into her hard belly and got a grunt. Rebecca recovered enough to block the wild right and step away.

Fatima cursed her, “Stand and fight you dirty Jew cunt!”

She got what she asked for. Rebecca stepped inside a wild right and smashed Fatima’s mouth with a right and left tearing open the bottom lip and driving the bigger woman back. Rebecca followed, lowering her head and pumping uppercuts between the darker woman’s guard, slamming rights and lefts into the big round underside of both enormous mammary glands. Deforming them, sending waves through the flesh and punctuating each smashing punch with a wet drum-like sound to precede Fatima’s grunts and groans. The Arab was quickly driven back to Rebecca’s corner and trapped against the corner stand. Rebecca went for those fat udders like she was possessed.

The tit battery proceeded until Fatima’s bear hug trapped both arms between them. Fatima’s sweaty strength held my wife in check, lifted her an inch of the ground and started to turn her to the corner. Rebecca’s bare foot found the side of the arena and stopped the turning. Fatima drove her forehead into Rebecca’s right eyebrow and literally tossed my wife back over the edge of the arena wall. Rebecca landed hard on her shoulders on the pad covered floor, her legs bent over the edge of the pit. Fatima brought her right fist down like a hammer for my wife’s exposed mound, but the referee partially blocked it and pushed the Arab back and started a count on my wife.

Her shoulders on the ground counted a day in the slavery count. She managed to get up at the count of nine, forestalling a second day. Fatima rushed her swinging both fists. My wife simply raised her arms and lowered her head taking the pounding mainly on her arms and driving the top of her head into Fatima’s heavy chin. The Arab staggered back and my wife hooked two right fists up into her fat lipped cunt getting meaty thuds and causing the Arab to groan and curse. Fatima recovered and met my wife’s charge with a solid right to the left tit, crushing my wife’s silicone enhanced tit like a balloon upward against her tucked chin. Now it was my woman’s time to groan and take a step back.

Fatima’s right smashed Rebecca’s forehead leaving another welt to match the one on her right eyebrow and forcing her back a step. The following left crushed the outside of my wife’s right boob driving it into the left. Rebecca grunted but did not cover up. She drove her right over the Arab’s left arm into her face this time connecting with her nose. Fatima’s head snapped back, but she held her ground. Her right fist hit Rebecca’s left cheek. The two stood toe-to-toe and pounded away marking faces, arms, shoulders and tits until the bell sounded and the referees grabbed and separated them.

The round break consisted of them propping their bodies in their designated corners. The corner post were padded with a ledge for a helpless woman’s ass to prop on and two wings to drape her arms over to hold her up for the sixty second beating rule. She might still fall to her knees but when properly crucified on the post the attacker could get in a number of shots. Anyway, both were marked up with darkening bruises on the body, mounds, tits and faces. Blood dribbled out of cuts on Fatima’s fattened lips and abrasions on her tits and cheeks. The rough tape tended to skin the fighters the longer the fight went on. My wife was similarly skinned and battered, but only her lower lip bled. Still she had a great lump on her forehead and her right eyebrow was swollen along the edge. Both her eyebrows had scars where they had been busted open, but the swelling was in a different place.

The one minute rest came to an end. Neither could receive treatment, but the referees squirted water into their mouths. There was no spit bucket so they either swallowed or like my wife spit most of the water out on her tits too cool down. At this stage I felt Rebecca had out fought the Arab, but in no way was she safe. At the bell, both women were more than ready to continue. She was still down no slave day points to one.

Round 2:

Fatima stalked around my wife, both drenched with sweat, hair matted but breathing steadily. Rebecca got in two quick jabs with her left to the cheek. Her right fist got blocked and she paid with a right to her belly and then a left forearm to both her tits forcing her back. Fatima’s nose-breaking right fist missed as my wife ducked under it and pumped five punches, three rights and two lefts into Fatima’s lower belly just above or on the mound. The battering drove the Arab back and started her breathing hard. Rebecca scored to the face three more times as Fatima struggled to get her feet planted.

Rebecca forced Fatima to the wall and pounded her tits and belly while planting her head on the Arab’s right shoulder. Fatima pounded Rebecca’s back and ribs then the back of her head. Three rabbit punches forced Rebecca to stand back and slam rights and lefts into Fatima’s already badly bruised hanging udders. Fatima grunted louder now and in frustration slammed her right forearm into Rebecca’s face driving her off further. Fatima’s round house right clocked my wife on the ear and almost knocked her off her feet by sheer force of impact.

Rebecca ducked under a left and hit Fatima’s guts again with three hard shots, but then the Arab replied with a perfect uppercut smashing my wife’s lips and standing her up straight. Bleeding from ruptured swollen lips, Rebecca took a hard right to her left cheek, a nasty pawing left to her swollen eye brow. She responded with a forearm of her own across Fatima’s tits forcing her to step back. Fatima’s roundhouse right missed my wife’s chin by a fraction. As it blew past, Rebecca smashed her own right into the center of the Arab’s face. The blow knocked Fatima on her ass and cut the bridge of her nose. The count began. They were now equal on slave days, which meant as of now they netted to zero. Fatima took a fifteen count giving my wife another slave day.

Fatima stood and blocked a flurry of punches going on the defense for a full minute. Then she drove a straight right through my wife’s guard into her left cheek, scratching it with the tape and raising another welt. Rebecca fought back hitting both of Fatima’s cheeks and her nose again. In return she took hard dragging punches across both cheeks increasing the swelling and skinning both swelling lumps. They pounded each other until the end of the second round and returned to their corners gasping.

Both women’s hair was matted with sweat. Both bodies glistened, showing deeply colored spots under their tanned or brown skin. My wife’s face was swelling badly and had three large knots on it subject to ruptures. Fatima had taken a worse beating. Her lower belly was red brown and her tits looked even bigger with dark red brown spots growing from the curve below up to the skinned nipples and across the long slopping bags. So far Rebecca’s speed and skills had outclassed the bigger Arab’s power. Still Fatima was called the “Nose-Breaker” for a reason and if one of those hammer-like fists crushed my wife’s nose it could end in the sound of a crack. My wife was ahead now two to one in slave days, which meant little now but was still a small relief for me.

Round 3:

No one said much until the round started. Then my wife said, “Come you rag-head dyke.” Fatima spit out, “Jew cunt!” Anything else was cut off by my wife’s right fist crushing the big woman’s lips to her teeth. Fatima’s head snapped back and she stumbled. Rebecca’s left went into the belly. Then my wife scored with a hard right to the left tit and another left this time right on Fatima’s clit meat. The Arab ran out of room to backpedal and slammed into the edge of the pit, almost falling on her ass. She covered her face and Rebecca went to her nipples with dragging shots using her rough tape to skin the already sore nipples. Fatima gasped more than once. Then she lunged into my wife almost tackling her with a bear hug.

Rebecca struggled to get lose and take advantage of the stunned big woman, but the big bitch had her arms trapped at her side. Rebecca through short punches from the elbow into Fatima’s sides and kidneys building up the color in her dark brown skin and hurting the Arab even as she held on trying to recover. Frustrated, Rebecca head butted Fatima. The height differential brought her swollen forehead down on Fatima’s right cheek as the woman turned away from the blow. Fatima groaned and continued to hold on. Rebecca drew her head back for another shot, but Fatima slung her backwards, almost causing her to fall.

My wife got her footing and came forward with her chin down and fists up. Fatima recovered enough to bring her fists up to her tits and wait. Rebecca was head-hunting so she started out with long range left jabs trying to get in for her right hook. Fatima’s longer arms allowed her to fire solid straight on punches to my wife’s implants, driving my wife back with solid drum sounding shots to each boob. Rebecca grunted with each hit. Her boobs were now almost as dark red brown as the Arab’s longer fatter natural udders. Rebecca pressed forward taking another tit punch to finally connect to Fatima’s left eye with a big right.

Fatima staggered to the right and got smashed in the nose with a follow on left. The big tough woman had a skull like a brick and her brain must have been used to collisions because incredibly she remained standing. Both nostrils and the cut on her nose bled, but she fired back. Her big right fist hit my wife on her left cheek, standing her up straight. The left smashed into the large mouse on Rebecca’s right eyebrow. Rebecca’s head snapped around and she stumbled. The mouse ruptured and blood and lymph under high pressure spewed out like a firehouse.

Rebecca ducked under a round house right and landed a nasty uppercut to Fatima’s slit. The Arab cursed and drove her left down like a hammer to the back of my wife’s broad upper back. Rebecca gasped and fell to her hands and knees gasping and coughing. She took a twenty five count before the third round ended. The third round had started so well and ended so bad. Fatima was rewarded three slave day points. If my wife lost the fight she now had a two-to-four disadvantage on slavery points, a total of two horrible days in Fatima’s tender care. Given the mutual hatred I doubt Rebecca would be the same after that.

Rebecca poured water over her face washing the blood out of her eyes, but the terrible gash on her eyebrow remained open and just continued to bleed. Luckily it was on the corner and if she tilted her head the blood flowed down over her swollen cheek. Fatima actually looked worse with her eyes swelling badly from the cheeks and the cut nose which if not broken was swelling about half again its size. The Arab’s nipples were raw and weeping. Her mound and clit meat had been skinned and pounded. Dark bruises covered her tits, belly and mound. Still she was bigger and stronger and my wife’s right eye might be in question.

Fourth Round:

The fourth round began with both women grimly silent. They were both sucking air now even after the rest, typically one would get an advantage and the long beating would finally end with one almost dead. Fatima surprised my wife with a straight left to the right eye, splattering blood and hastening the swelling of the lid and the cheek. Rebecca shifted her head a little on an angle so the blow from her eyebrow dribbled over the edge of the swelling and down her face instead of pooling in the eye slit. Fatima’s right hit my wife on the back of the head as Rebecca moved inside the Arab’s wide hook.

Now Rebecca pumped uppercuts into the underside of Fatima’s swollen udders crushing and bouncing them. The top of my wife’s head hit Fatima’s chin and pushed her back. Fatima tried to pound my wife’s ribs, but caught Rebecca’s arms as often as her ribs. My wife’s pumping short blows worked down Fatima’s front to her belly. Each hard fist seemed to sink deeper than the last one until the Arab spit blood over my wife’s shoulder with each impact. Fatima clenched and used her weight and strength to throw my wife back into her own corner.

Despite blowing hard from the belly beating, the Arab charged into my wife’s corner post. She sank a right into my wife’s already darkly bruised clit and mound. Rebecca’s eyes widened and she groaned in agony telling me her clit had gotten pinched by the blow. Fatima’s left drove my wife’s right implant up to her shoulder. For a brief moment I thought it might just fly over Rebecca’s shoulder. Rebecca screamed in agony. I had never heard her scream from a tit shot before.

Someone mumbled, “Popped it or tore it from its seat. That bitch is going to need retreads.” His buddies laughed, they were planning on raping my defeated wife bloody. My hand dropped to the back of my belt and I remembered why they scanned everyone for weapons.

Fatima’s ruined mouth twisted in a wicked sadistic smile and she drove her forearm into both tits. Crushing my wife’s implants and driving her hard against her corner pad. Next a right then a left then a right fist crushed the targeted implant. Rebecca almost squealed with the third hit. When her tit flopped back into place it hung differently and looked misshapen. Fatima had ruptured and unseated her implant. Win or lose, if she lived my wife would be getting tit work from one of the plastic surgeons who did repair work for no fee as long as he got all the woman’s fight tapes and free fucks.

With Rebecca in tit agony I thought it might end soon. As if on cue, Fatima stepped back, measured my wife’s nose for range as Rebecca stood helpless with her arms over her tits and smiled with her twisted ruined lips. Fatima’s big right swung as I knew it would for my wife’s nose. It was her signature nose-breaker right and it could easily knockout any women it hit as well as set her up for a helpless beating crucified on her corner post. I closed my eyes, but did not hear the expected wet crunch.

Instead there was a hard thud. I opened my eyes and saw Fatima’s right sunk into the pad above my wife’s head. Rebecca punched with a right left to Fatima’s big clit, dragging taped knuckles across the swollen bud. Fatima sucked in a breath and grabbed for my wife, but Rebecca drove her head upward crushing Fatima’s chin with a brutal head strike from below. The Arab might have taken it if her limbs hadn’t been frozen in place from clit agony. Her head snapped back and she fell hard on her back, legs spread and arms out in the classic knockout iron cross. Blood spurted out of her mouth. The count started. She coughed and spit out pieces of broken teeth. At sixty Fatima was just rolling onto her hands and knees. Seven slave points for my wife, but more importantly a critical turnaround.

The referees stood her up and propped her against her corner pad. They draped her arms over the wings and stood back. Rebecca could pound her for the rest of the round, but Fatima had recovered enough to free her arms and put up her guard. Rebecca fired rights and lefts to the woman’s belly. Gasping as the movement caused her ruined tit to sag and sway. Then when the Arab went for the clench Rebecca drove a right up into her chin splitting the swollen flesh underneath and driving Fatima’s head back hard. The Arab sagged and sat down on her corner pad. Rebecca hooked a brutal roundhouse right into her nose. The resulting crack and dual fountains of blood out of the nose said all that needed to be said. The Nose-breaker had a broken nose. Her already swollen cheeks begin to bloat visibly. Fatima started to slide down the pad but her ass sat on the pad and Rebecca pushed the Arab’s right arm over the wing and hung her there.

Right’s and lefts to the face split the helpless woman’s face open and sent blood flying. She dangled helplessly already unconscious but trapped on her feet. I looked at the timekeeper. He was watching the clock so time was short. I tried to see the timer clock on the front of his table but two of Fatima’s supporters’ backs blocked my line of sight as they desperately waited for the round to end.

Finally Fatima fell to the mat after my wife’s roundhouse right to the left eye had ripped open her eyelid and eyebrow and knocked her off the perch. Another twenty-two seconds of counting followed until the bell rang. They stood her and hooked her arms over the wings. She had five minutes to wake up. The referees conferred. They were going to call it if her second didn’t throw in the towel

I studied Rebecca. Her ruptured tit was deforming as she sat on her pad and gasped through the five minute. The insane look on her face told me she could not wait to get back to hitting the bigger woman. I turned back to the Arab. Fatima’s head sagged and her tits and belly rose and fell slowly. The ranch owner did not throw in the towel. So at the end of five minutes the referees ruled a knockout and gave Rebecca two minute punishment round, body blows only. Rebecca had added ten slave days in that round and led by twelve to four, eight days for Fatima if she lived.

Round Five:

Rebecca staggered from her own corner with her bloody taped fists pumping victory salutes and the crowd roared its approval. Despite her the obvious loose ooze in her ruptured tit she merely grimaced as her arms shook her tits. She set her bloody taped fists to the task of revenge and picked the Arab’s most swollen tit, the right one and went to work on it with both fists. After a minute of beating the nipple and aureole were split and pouring out lymph and blood. The brown udder was almost dark black and half again the size of the left. Another thirty seconds of driving full roundhouse punches into the tit meat Rebecca paused and motioned to the referees.

Fatima’s head was moving. She was groaning and trying to move. Rebecca argued she was fighting back. My wife wanted three more minutes to hit Fatima’s face and then another two minutes on the tits. The referees weren’t having it. One raised the ruined Arab’s face and asked her if she was ready to fight. No words came out, only bloody vomit drained out of her shattered mouth onto her busted chin and swollen tits. Rebecca was the only one who wanted more.

The referees ruled she had thirty seconds left. My wife went to work with gusto, slamming the udder from every direction. Using elbow strikes, twisting fists and finally rubbing her tape back and forth over the split area widening the gash and almost opening it up. She wanted to spill tit meat on the ground. Finally the referees grabbed her and pulled her back the fight was over.

The head referee announced, “The fight ended twelve to four so Fatima will serve eight days as Rebecca’s slave after a suitable recovery period.”

The crowd roared. The other two referees splashed the bloody Arab with water buckets. She stirred. Then they laid her face down on the edge of the arena her swollen tits flowing out from under her arms, her ass up in the air and ready for the first of thirty five men’s cocks and five women’s strap-on dildos or fists. A bloody pool formed under her bulging ruined tit.

I tended to Rebecca. Her tit had ruptured. One of the men was a plastic surgeon was making a tentative exam. He was quite experienced with repair jobs. Moreover, he worked for free as long as the women fucked him and we had no problem with that, money was money and pussy was well in my wife’s case for rent. Fatima went to the intensive care unit, entered as a car wreck victim, which of course everyone knew was false, but the fix was in. She didn’t die and the swelling in her brain went down. Her face took far longer to heal and repair, but eventually she served her brutal slavery. She didn’t fight again for nine months.

She challenged Rebecca to a no rules death fight, but of course Rebecca refused but offered her a fist fight. Fatima did not seem so interested in that, but continued to issue insults and challenges. She killed two more women in no rules fights losing an ear and a finger in the process. As will happen to people who live by the sword, she met her match in the third fight. The younger sister of the Israeli she had killed. I watched the video. Fatima went down hard taking a nipple from the younger woman, but losing everything including her nipples and clit which were stuffed into her mouth before the other fighter finished her with a knee across the throat as Fatima’s broken arms flopped trying to stop it.

Of course, Rebecca challenged the new fighter to a fist fight. She’s still in recovery and I hope the youngster is satisfied with her vengeance and gets back to a normal life whatever that is.