The summer before I went off to college, I got a surprising offer from my life-long rival Melissa. Frankly, I was looking to being free of her; we’d never gotten along, for so long now neither one of us remembered the original reason we’d started fighting. In high school at least, I think Melissa thought I thought I was better than her; I’m told I have a somewhat intimidating resting bitchface, and between that and a squint from the very strong prescription glasses I wear, I guess I can look unfriendly and disdainful. I did not in fact think I was better than her; honestly, I was jealous. She's blonde, has a beautiful face, big tits and a lot of friends, whereas I'm a gay-questioning, introverted, shy nerd with small boobs who, shockingly, wasn't super popular.
In any case, Melissa sent me a surprisingly polite challenge, telling me that “kicking [your] narrow butt is on my bucket list” and that she wanted to get it done before we went off to school in separate states. What the heck; I said yes. Now that she’d issued the challenge, it felt wrong to say no and leave town with any unfinished business between us. Melissa invited me over to her place next Tuesday morning, telling me to bring or wear a swimsuit under my clothes; we’d fight in her attic, no rules except that the match would end on a submission, after which the winner could do what they wanted to the loser. I didn’t have long before the fight, but I looked up a bunch of YouTube videos about how to box and wrestle - I knew this wasn’t as good as going to the gym and training, but at least I’d know how to throw and take a punch and some basic moves. That was the best I could do, and the day of the fight I put my swimsuit on over a T-shirt and jeans and drove over to Melissa’s place. She lead me up into the attic and I started stripping down; Melissa was already in her suit and watched me undress.
I’m fairly tall, about 5’8” with a slim build - A-cup breasts, narrow hips, and a tiny little rump. My dad’s family is Welsh, and I got his height and pale skin, while my mom’s side is Korean, and I got her black hair and almond-shaped eyes. I have a heart-shaped face with very delicate features - big, brown eyes, a button nose, and a small mouth. I had streaked my hair with purple, and it reached almost a third of the way down my back in a simple wave. I had on my bathing suit under my clothes, a slightly high cut royal purple one-piece with thick pink stripes on the sides. I had contacts in so I could fight without my glasses - I’m totally blind without them, so it was this or attempt to beat up a smear. I was nervous and already sweating in the summer morning heat as I started at my opponent across the attic.
Melissa’s about my height, but at least 30 pounds heavier, lots of it in her big tits and apple-shaped butt, although she also had wider shoulders and thicker limbs. Her face was more round with sparkling blue eyes and sensual lips. Her hair was almost as long as mine, but where my black and purple hair was straight, hers was a messy blonde mop that somehow still looked great. She was wearing a one-piece as well, hers bare on the right shoulder, covered in red and white stripes.
“You ready?” she asked. I nodded and we approached, throwing awkward hits; watching it on YouTube it looked easy enough, but Melissa landed the first solid blow, a right-handed slap that left my cheek stinging where she'd hit me. Furious, I drew my right arm back and slammed my fist into her stomach. Her eyes went wide, and I wound up for another punch, my left fist smacking into her mouth. She stumbled backwards and I followed her, getting two handfuls of her long blonde hair, using my grip to yank her head around. She tried to get my own hair in return, but I pulled her head back as far as it would go, leaving her staring at the ceiling and blindly flailing at me. I switched to a one-handed grip, hitting her in the stomach a few more times. She crossed her arms over her midsection, which made me change tactics; I wanted to see if I could finish Melissa off in one hit and slammed my knee up between her legs. She obligingly screamed and fell down to her knees, my left hand still buried in her hair. I looked down at her, my opponent panting, eyes squeezed shut in pain. I pulled my right arm back for another punch, but before landing it asked if she gave up: "Well, you had enough? Ready to cross this off the bucket list?"
Her response was an uppercut between my legs, which I guess was fair enough considering what I'd just done to her; I shrieked at the unexpected pain blossoming from my crotch, stumbling away from Melissa and sitting down hard, rubbing my crotch through my suit. I looked over at Melissa, who was glaring at me, and without a word we both got to our feet, circling warily. Melissa faked a few punches, pulling them back at the last second and trying to get me to flinch; I was ready to take a punch, and after her third fakeout came in on her, reaching for her hair again. She stopped me with a hard right to my tummy - I guess I wasn’t as ready to take that punch as I thought - then followed up by grabbing my hair with her left hand. She aimed another hit at my stomach, but I covered up and she only hit my arms. She got her right leg between mine, using her grip on my hair to twist my body against her thigh, tripping me down to the wood floor, where I landed on my chest. She stomped me in the back, which hurt like hell even with my opponent in her bare feet, then sat down on my back. I guess she’d been doing her own training as I felt her grabbing my ankles, pulling them up, then leaning back and applying a Boston crab. Whatever video she’d seen must’ve been good as she painfully wrenched my back.
“Fuck!” I yelled. “That hurts!”
“You think that hurts? Watch this!” She let go of my left leg, working on cranking my right back even further; her other hand grabbed my hair, pulling my head up off the floor. It felt like she was trying to touch the bottom of my foot to the top of my head as I screamed in pain. She made it even worse as she would strain and then relax; on the relax I’d take a few breaths, only to use them shrieking as she cinched up the hold. After a dozen cycles of this she released me, my legs flopping to the floor with a thud; I lay on my chest, reaching behind me to rub my sore back.
“Let’s get this off,” Melissa purred, squatting over my butt and unzipping my suit, lifting my hips and pulling my swimsuit down and off me, leaving me totally naked. I managed to roll onto my back, but before I could start trying to get up Melissa tried to deadlift me off the ground. I don’t know what she was planning on, and I guess I’ll never find out as she couldn’t quite manage it; she got me halfway off the floor, then dropped me with a grunt. I hit on my left side, and this time Melissa just stood there and glared at me, letting me climb up to my feet.
Unfortunately I was a bit winded, and as she came in on me she swatted aside the punch I threw at her face, wrapping her arms around me in a bearhug. I copied the move, but I knew this wasn’t a winning strategy for me - she was stronger than me, and started hurting me with the hold immediately. Our breasts pressed together as we struggled against each other; I tried to think of an escape plan, but before I could put one into motion she managed to lift my feet off the floor by leaning backwards.
"Put me down!" I gasped. She didn't - of course - and I started hammering on her arms, which only prompted her to start shaking me back and forth. The room swung crazily as she shook me until I managed to brace my hands on her shoulders. I considered giving her a bellringer, slapping my hands against her ears, but I worried as soon as I took my hands off her she’d be able to go back to shaking me, and I didn’t know if I’d be able to do anything with the room spinning like that. So instead I just changed grips, getting both hands around her neck and squeezing. I’m not the strongest, but I had a good angle, and I could see Melissa’s eyes starting to bug out as I choked her. Before I could do any more damage like this she threw me down to the floor, which at least got me out of her bearhug; I landed hard on my back, and before I could get up Melissa laid on top of me at a 90 degree angle, like she was going for a pin. I had no idea what she was doing until her thighs locked around my left leg, and her arms around my right leg. She started pulling, applying what I’ll admit was a pretty good legspreader; clearly she’d been preparing for the match. Unfortunately for her, this didn’t hurt me at all - I’ve got long legs, and I’m very flexible; I could drop into a split without feeling any discomfort, and all she was doing was giving me a good stretch. She didn’t seem to realize this, as she barked “Give up!”
“I’m okay,” I yawned, reaching up and patting her on the head. “Can you rub my shoulders next?” She released the hold, leaning up with a priceless confused look on her face. I sat up so we were chest to chest, burying my right fist in her stomach; she gagged and leaned against me, and I hit her again in the same spot, then a third. This one drove the wind out of her, and I gave her a light shove, pushing her over on her back. I went around to her side, locked my hands together and slammed them down into her stomach with as much force as I could muster. She came off the ground with a gasping cry, her eyes wide with shock, before falling back spread-eagled. I quickly rolled her over, applying a strong hammerlock on her left arm, pulling her wrist up her back until she screamed. I kept the hold on as I stood up, pulling her with me but keeping her bent over in front of me. I went around to her left side, still working the hammerlock, my other hand spanking her curvy butt. She started squealing, going up and octave as I grabbed the bottom of her suit and administered a massive wedgie, the material disappearing between her big, round buttcheeks. "God! Stop!" she wailed.
“You don’t like this?” I giggled. “How about this?” I lifted my knee into her stomach, hearing her gasp; I gave her a second and she fell down to all fours, her left arm slipping out of my grasp. My double-axe handle earlier in the fight had seemed to work well and I repeated it, this time smashing my locked-together hands into Melissa's back, delivering enough force to knock her down on her chest. Now it was my turn to get her suit off, unzipping it and pulling it off her body. Instead of tossing it to the side as my opponent had done with mine, I had an idea; I twisted the suit around both of my hands, getting an unbreakable grip, then straddled my opponent and looped the rest of the material around Melissa’s neck, pulling back with a grunt of effort.
This worked immediately as Melissa gagged, pulling uselessly on her own suit as it choked her. “You just tap when you give up,” I told her, leaning back and applying even more force. My opponent’s hands flapped uselessly; there was no room for her to get even a finger between the suit and her neck to relieve the pressure. I worked the hold for a little longer before she let out a gasping, choking moan, and I could see drool running out of her mouth. I didn’t want to kill her, so I eased up on the pressure; Melissa collapsed on her face, and when I rolled her over she had a strangely peaceful expression, her face completely relaxed.
“Ahhh, Melissa,” I gently patted her cheek, “I think you lost this one, babe. Do you want to give up now?” She just groaned in response. “Mel? You with me?” She coughed, but nothing else. I decided it was time to finish her off, sliding down her body, cupping her big breasts. She let out a low moan as I started kneading her tits, then took her left nipple between my lips, teasing the right with my fingers. She slowly started waking up as I worked her over; she had her eyes half open as I went for the finishing blow, my right hand sliding down between her legs. I braced my left knee gently against her shoulders; if she tried anything I’d press it against her neck.
But she didn’t, just laying back and moaning as I slipped a finger in and started pumping her.
“How about now? You want me to keep going?”
“Yeah,” she gasped.
“What was that?”
“Yes!”
“You give up? Say I win, and I’ll finish you off.”
“You win,” she panted.
“Good girl.” I trusted that she surrendered and sat on her stomach, facing her feet; I kept fingering her with my right hand, my left teasing her clit. That was all it took to get her off; her legs started kicking against the floor, then her hips started bucking up gently against my hands as I pushed her towards the edge, then over, my defeated opponent enjoying what sure seemed like a powerful climax.
As she came down I flipped around to face her, pushing my sticky fingers into her mouth, pumping them briefly. Her eyelids fluttered, and she looked up at me, exhausted and slightly scared. I patted her cheek.
“Aw, we’re almost done. You just need to get me off now.” I slid up, pinning her arms to the floor with my lower legs just in case, lowering my crotch over her face until I felt her tongue on my pussy. I sighed happily as Melissa started eating me out. I guessed this might be her first time as she didn’t seem to know exactly what to do, but it still felt pretty good - victory’s quite an aphrodisiac. I was in a great mood after winning and decided to help her along a little, teasing my clit with one hand as she lapped at my pussy. My other hand rested on the top of her head, keeping me steady as she got me more and more worked up; when I reached orgasm it was as powerful as any I’d ever felt, Melissa’s tongue sending waves of shattering pleasure through my body.
I came down slowly, panting; I was still sitting on Melissa’s face when the door to the attic swung open. Her mom, Laura, was standing there, wearing a white T-shirt, a long pink shirt, and white sneakers. She looked a lot like her daughter, but older and heavier with even bigger tits, wider hips, and a curvier booty; her face was just starting to develop laugh lines, but other than that she was a beautiful blonde, her hair almost as long as her daughter’s, up in a casual ponytail. She was holding a tray with a ceramic teapot, two cups, and a tray of cucumber sandwiches, and at first she didn’t see us; I leapt off her daughter as she took a step into the room.
"Girls, I made tea- " she stopped, her eyes wide, her mouth hanging open. "WHAT is going on here?"
“Uh-”
Have you girls been fighting?” She dropped the tray and stormed up to me, grabbing my face and peering angrily at me. “You have been fighting!”
"Mrs. Sullivan-"
"Don't you give me any 'Mrs. Sullivan' shit," she released me, waving her finger in my face. "You think you can come into MY house, beat up MY little girl?"
"I'm handling it, mom," Melissa gasped from the floor.
"No, you're not, sweetie,” Laura told her daughter. "Mommy's taking care of it now. She turned back to me. "Mommy's going to teach this little bitch a lesson."
I put my fists up as I was apparently going to fight Laura now. I found that I was very slow between crashing off the adrenaline high of the fight and the powerful climax I was coming down from; Laura came in throwing a punch at my stomach and I moved to slap her arm away, but I wasn’t even close to being fast enough as her fist slammed into my tummy. I groaned, trying to push her away, but she easily came in on me, grabbing a handful of my hair with her left hand and laying repeated punches into my stomach with her right. I made another attempt to push her away, bracing my hands on her shoulders, but I ended up just hanging off them as she demolished my breadbasket with repeated hits; I gagged, coughing up a ball of spit, and she wound up for one last punch that put me down on my knees in front of her. She took a step back, then punted my head, her foot coming up and smashing into my chin, knocking me over on my back. I started up at the bare beam ceiling in shock as Laura kneeled between my legs, then gasped as I felt her slip a finger into me.
"You're dripping wet! You little whore!"
"It's your daughter's spit," I moaned. That was the wrong thing to say as she pulled her finger out, applying a pussy claw that had me screaming in helpless agony.
"Any more smart remarks?" she taunted me, giving me one last painful squeeze before releasing me. I curled up on my side, holding my crotch as Laura undressed, shucking her shirt and unhooking her bra, then untying her shoes and sliding out of her socks. Down to just her long pink skirt she walked over to me, kicking me onto my back, then started destroying me with stomps; I covered myself up, but no matter where I put my arms, part of me was open as she slammed her feet into my body from my thighs up to my face. I learned quickly to keep my left arm over my chest after she crushed my right breast between her sole and my ribs. I did my best with my free arm, but by the time Laura was done she’d stomped any hope of me winning out of me; I was beyond resistance as she dragged me over to one of the walls, pulling me up to a sitting position, pushing my back up against the rough pine wall. She sat down in front of me and started busting my belly with punches, slamming hooks and straights into my tummy. I managed not to throw up, but not much else; after a half dozen hits I flopped forward. Laura made an annoyed cluck, waving her daughter over.
“Sweetie, this isn’t working. You’re going to have to hold her.” Laura pulled me towards the center of the room a little bit. Melissa hesitated as I stared at her, fat tears running down my cheeks; she mouthed "Sorry" at me before coming over and getting behind me, helping me up to my feet. She got a loose full nelson on me and her smirking mother squared up with me. She gave me a couple more gut shots, and these were bad enough, but it got really painful as she moved up and started punching my tits. “These little lumps are barely worth destroying,” Laura noted casually as she hammered another punch into my tits, crushing them against my ribs as I sobbed. This is where I really lost the match; her belly beating had been bad enough, but there was absolutely no coming back from this as Laura literally beat the fight out of me. She didn’t hit me in the head, I think to make sure I stayed awake for the whole beating as she freely switched targets, hammering my stomach, sides, ribs and breasts with hit after hit. By the time she was done working me over I was hanging in her daughter’s arms, a bruised, beaten, sweaty, crying, helpless mess.
“Mom,” Melissa finally piped up, “I think she’s had enough. Right, Emily?”
“Yes,” I agreed, willing to do anything to escape more pain. “Yes, I give up.”
"Oh? Well, I don’t accept her surrender yet. Can she stand?” Melissa let me go and I slid down her body until I was laying on the floor, gasping. “Pathetic. Get her up, honey.”
“But mom-”
“Get her on her feet!” Laura yelled. “I’m not through with her yet!” Melissa sighed and pulled me up, her arms circling my body just under my breasts. I was leaning forward looking at the floor for a moment; I saw Laura’s bare feet as she walked up to me. “Look at me, you little bitch!” she shrieked. I managed to lift my head and saw she was holding the teapot; she swung it down at my head, breaking it over my skull with a huge crash. I passed out, waking up laying flat on my chest, my hair covered with lukewarm tea and ceramic teakettle fragments.
Laura was standing next to me, her feet next to my face. “Emily? Are you with us?” She leaned down, grabbing my shoulders and pulling my upper body off the floor enough to look into my eyes. “Ah, you’re awake. I decided if you start kissing my toes, I might let you give up.” She released me, I think expecting me to prop myself up on my elbows, but she had underestimated how much damage she’d done and I slumped gracelessly back down on my chest. I managed to flop my tongue out of my mouth and started pathetically licking her sweaty toes. “You are useless, Emily!” she shouted at me, angry at the crappy job I was doing. She shoved her foot between my lips and started toe-fucking my mouth. “How do my toes taste, you little loser?” If she expected a response, she was going to be disappointed further; all I could do was lay there and drool. I was beyond being humiliated now, drifting in a haze of pain.
When she got tired of this she told Melissa she’d be right back and left. Melissa rolled me over, snapping her fingers in front of my face.
“Emily! Are you okay?”
“Guh,” I gasped, still drooling. “Uh, I don’t feel good.”
“I’m gonna get you out of here before she comes back. Can you stand up?”
“I’ll try,” I grunted. Melissa got me sitting, then tried to pull me up to my feet, but I couldn’t stay standing; my legs were like limp noodles. Before we could try again Laura was back, wearing a strapon dildo harness, the six inches of ribbed black plastic waving in front of her as she walked in. I could see it shining with lube - it must’ve been flavored as I caught a whiff of strawberry.
“Oh, don’t bother getting her up,” Laura breezed over to us. “Lay her down on her back.” Melissa gave me a worried frown and did as her mom said. Laura pushed my legs apart, scooting forward, lifting my limp legs and resting my ankles on her shoulders. She thrust forward slowly and I moaned as she slid her strapon home. She started fucking me, roughly, with long, fast strokes. I know she was doing this to demonstrate her complete dominance over me and humiliate me, but honestly, at this point I was beyond humiliation anyway; I’d gone through a phase of being obsessed with fantasizing about the moms of girls my age, including Laura more than once. Admittedly, I didn’t think to imagine her beating me senseless first, although I did imagine Melissa there once or twice (enjoying herself more than she was now). I don’t know who Laura was using this strapon with regularly, but she was good with it, and she was making me feel great. It certainly was a much more pleasant way to spend the morning than her beating the shit out of me, and I laid back and enjoyed her fucking me. She started going at me even harder, either because she was encouraged by me clearly enjoying herself, or trying to get control back as I went off her script by loving what she was doing I’m not sure. I dug my fingers into the hard floor, moaning and panting as my enemy’s mom laid in shorter, faster strokes, her hips hammering the strapon in and out of me. I think the only person who wasn’t enjoying herself was Melissa, who complained: “Mom, could you just finish her already?”
“Oh, don’t worry, sweetie, Mommy’s almost done. This little slut loves it. Isn’t that right, little slut?”
“Yuhhhhhh,” I groaned in ecstasy, drooling with my eyes half closed, my body rocked with each thrust. “Uhhhhhh, god. Don’t stop, please…”
She didn’t stop - in fact she started rubbing my clit with one hand, and that quickly pushed me over the edge. I came even harder than I had on Melissa’s face, my body twitching and spasming. It felt like lightning racing through my body, and I heard myself screaming in ecstasy; I almost passed out again, this time from pleasure; I came down from my climax slowly, panting, Laura’s thrusts slowing and then stopping. I wanted nothing more than to drift off to sleep, but Laura moved up my body, sitting down on my shoulders. She started lightly slapping my face: “Emily! Emily, wake up!”
“Ufhg,” I managed. “I’m awake”
“Good, because you’re going to have to clean this.” She rubbed the strapon against my lips.
I took a deep breath and managed to lean forward and start giving Laura’s fake cock a very loose, sloppy blowjob. She started taunting me, asking me how my own juices tasted, but all I could really detect was rubber and a fake strawberry taste (from the lube, which must have been flavored). Like with her toes, I’ll admit I was doing a pretty bad job at this, and Laura got pissed, yelling “God, you’re just useless! I’ll do it myself!” She slid forward a little, holding my wrists down - as if I was going to try and push her off; I was so far gone I couldn’t even think of fighting back, let alone try it - and started fucking my mouth, grunting as she pistoned the dildo in and out of my mouth. I just laid there and took it; there was nothing else for me to do. After a bit she pulled out, yelling “Let’s see if you’re any better at this!” Laura squatted over my face, and I leaned up and started eating her out, holding onto her hips as I licked her pussy.
“Aaahhh, that’s much better,” she purred. “Emily, you aren’t going to tell me this is your first time doing this, are you? Aah, I guess you have your mouth full.” Laura reached back, grabbing my sore boobs and squeezing; I don’t think she could get a ton of leverage like this, but even the gentlest pulse was enough to send waves of agony through my beaten, aching chest. I wanted to get her off as quick as possible so she’d stop doing this, and luckily for me she was already halfway there, I guess from what she’d been doing to me. I attacked her with quick, flicking tongue strokes, then moved up a tiny bit and started sucking on her clit. I pushed her over the edge, feeling her shaking on top of me as she climaxed, the pressure easing off to nothing on my chest; when she finished, she went weak, sitting down on my face, cracking the back of my head against the hard floor as her pussy pressed into my nose and mouth.
“Wow,” She slowly rolled off me, panting. “Oh, my gosh. All right. Okay, I got an idea for one last thing. Help me get her on her hands and knees-”
“Jesus, mom, she’s had enough!” Melissa protested. “Look, I don’t think she even knows what’s happening!” Melissa came over to me, cupping my face in her hands, grimacing as she got her mom’s juices on her fingers; she pulled my head up, pointing me at her mom, who came in close and stared into my eyes. The left one was swelling shut, and I could only keep the right half-open, staring past Laura. Whatever she saw, I guess she could tell I was pretty fucked up as she murmured “All right, I guess we did teach her a lesson.” She looked up at her daughter. “You’re absolutely sure, though? I thought I could do her from behind while she eats you out-”
“I’m sure!” Melissa barked. “Besides, if she’s going to do that, I want to earn it myself. Why don’t you go take a shower, I’ll get her out of here.”
“Okay, hun,” Laura pulled Melissa into an awkward hug, then collected her clothes and left. Melissa got me dressed, first getting my long-discarded swimsuit on, then my clothes over them; I still couldn’t stand up and she carried me like a baby out of the house and into the backseat of my car. I’d left my phone in my purse in the passenger seat and texted my mom that I’d been hurt and not to freak out when she saw me; Melissa wanted to drive me to the hospital, but I knew there’d be too many questions and asked her to drive me home. She helped me to the front door, where my mom was waiting for me. The two of them got me upstairs into my room, undressed me and put me in bed. Despite my text message I could tell my mother was seething. Before she left the room I grabbed her hand and rasped “It’s not Melissa’s fault.”
“Okay, hon,” she squeezed my hand. “Don’t worry about it. I’m handling it now.” She kissed my cheek and left me there to finally drift off to sleep.
* * *
Mom grounded me for two weeks for fighting, which was a bit of a pointless gesture as it was longer than that before I felt like doing anything more strenuous than watching Netflix. I spent the first week unable to even get out of bed, recovering from the beating I’d taken. My sore body made it hard to sleep or move around, but what was even worse was the trauma to the soft tissue of my face - I had two ugly black eyes, the right one bloodshot but still open, the left completely swollen shut. My lips were split, my nose was flattened, and the rest of my face was a sea of dark bruises. On the third day after frequent applications of ice my left eye finally half-opened, the white completely flushed with dark red blood.
Mom got the family MD, Dr. Priyanka, to make a house call, trusting her not to ask any questions. Dr. P is a middle aged, medium-dark skinned Indian woman; as she leaned over me in bed I realized that one, it was weird seeing her out of the office, and two, she smelled very nice. She looked into my eyes, took my pulse, did all the usual doctor stuff, then shooed my mother out and put on latex gloves. She got down to a more intimate exam. She left my top half covered, flipping the bottom of the blanket up, easing my legs apart.
“I’m going to check your privates now,” she told me, pulling off my panties. I looked down to see her shining a flashlight between my legs, clucking at whatever she saw. I bit down a gasp as I felt her gently parting my lower lips, a thoughtful frown on her face as she examined me.
“Well,” she announced, “I promised not to ask what happened, but you have some vaginal abrasions. I’m going to apply some medicine, okay?” I nodded, and a moment later two gloved fingers entered me, coated in some kind of cool gel. I gasped, gripping the bed as she started rubbing the balm in. “Don’t be embarrassed,” she ordered. “I’ve been your doctor since you were a little baby. Remember when you ripped the skin off your knees on the waterslide?”
“Yeah,” I panted. “Yeah.”
“There, we’re halfway done.” She pulled her fingers out to apply more gel. There was no way I was going to make it through that again without climaxing. I guess the doctor realized this as she stopped before going back in: “If you need to cum, go ahead, all right?”
“OkayYYYYYY!” I squealed, my voice going up an octave as Dr. P slipped her fingers back in. Even though she’d told me it was fine, I tried to hold off climaxing, my fingers digging into the sheets as I braced myself. Her fingers weren’t moving in and out, but she was making a kind of come-here rubbing motion that was driving me crazy. She slowed but didn’t stop as I hit my limit, my pussy muscles contracting around her fingers; I tried and failed to hold down a long, low moan as a powerful climax rolled through me.
Finished, I laid limp as Dr. P went back to her routine; she finished a minute later, then took another long look inside me before sliding my underwear back up.
“How’s it look, doc?” I managed.
“You’ll be all right in a few days. I want you to keep that eye iced, and I’m going to write you a prescription for some topical cream.”
“Thanks.”
She smiled at me and snapped off her gloves. I felt good enough to get out of bed the next day, and that meant it was time to think about what I was going to do about Laura.
My mom of course wanted to go right over to her house and punch her teeth in, but I talked her out of it; I wanted to get revenge myself. I felt like Laura had only managed to beat me so easily because she’d come in and jumped me after I’d defeated her daughter. In a fair, straight-up fight, I thought I could beat her, and that revenge would taste sweet indeed. Plus, I mean, I was 18 years old, I was going off to college in a few months, and it felt a little embarrassing to go running to mommy; I wanted to do it myself. I did promise mom it would be her turn if I lost to Laura to keep her happy. So, with my mom’s permission, I set up the fight - Melissa was sending me long, rambling, apologetic texts, and I asked her to pass my challenge on to her mom. It would be at my house, no rules, and we’d each have one guest, me with my own mother and Laura bringing her daughter along. Acceptance came back, and after I was able to get out of bed I started getting ready for the fight; I trained with my mother, working on throwing and taking punches, throws, and submission holds. There wasn’t enough time to really change my body, but I also did as much cardio and strength training as I could - I knew that going to the gym four times wasn’t going to make me ripped, but I hoped it would have some kind of placebo effect.
Beyond being in the best shape possible, I wanted to look good. Mom took me to get a haircut - all of my beautiful long hair in the back got cut off, but the sides and front were left as is; I tucked it all behind my ears except one thick, tempting strand of hair just off to the side of my left eye, then trained with my mom, letting her grab it and throwing her, or grabbing her wrists and twisting her into a submission move, with the hope I’d be able to do the same thing with Laura when the time came. I’d be wearing my same swimsuit from the fight with Melissa, but mom did my makeup - black eyeliner, purple eyeshadow (I was worried this would make me look like a grandma, but it came out great with my skin tone) and pink lipstick. I also had pink nailpolish on my fingernails and toenails; after I beat Laura, I was going to make her kiss my toes, and I wanted them to look nice. Honestly, I thought I looked great; maybe I should have asked her for makeup help earlier.
The night came and Laura breezed in with Melissa in tow. My opponent had on grey sweats, which she stripped off to reveal a one-piece red swimsuit, cut daringly low in the chest, and high on the hips showing off her ass; for a woman of her age she looked amazing in it, her curves pulling the look off wonderfully. She had some makeup on, but less than me - just some rogue on her cheeks and lipstick, the same bright red as her swimsuit. Laura had brought along a messenger bag; she saw me looking at it and smiled.
“You know what’s in here? You’ll find out after I beat you.” Ah, jeez, I hoped not.
We were going to fight in the living room, me and Mom having cleared the furniture out except for two folding chairs, for the guests, then put down the old thick blue exercise mats from the hall closet. The spectators took their seats, and I went out to the middle of the floor to meet my opponent. Laura offered me a test of strength to start the match; I accepted, locking hands with her, and we both started trying to overpower each other. Unfortunately I found out quickly that Laura was stronger than me, and she started slowly forcing me down; My arms burned as I pushed back against her, but it was useless as she slowly, painfully pushed me down to one knee. I was in trouble already and tried to escape by pushing off the ground, but Laura just rode out my burst of effort, then shoved me down on my back, sitting down on my tummy. I tried to push her off, but my shaking arms were weak, worn out trying to overpower her in the first place. She slid up until she was sitting on my shoulders, easily grabbing my wrists and trapping them under her ankles. Smirking, she got a strong grip on my hair with her left hand and started slapping the shit out of me with her right. I tried to unseat her, but she was too far up for me to get my legs around her or buck her off; all I managed to do was waste energy. She rode out my escape attempt without even slowing down with her slaps, delivering shockingly painful blows to my cheeks. I just had to endure it, already fighting down tears less than two minutes into the match.
By the time she climbed off me, my face was burning with pain and humiliation. I rolled over and started getting up, but I’d only made it to all fours when she came around to my right side, getting another grip on my hair with one hand, the other grabbing the bottom of my suit and pulling it up into a wedgie.
“Time to take this dog for a walk!” she yelled, and with that she started dragging me around the mat, tugging my hair to keep my head up if I tried to look down, and working the painful wedgie if I wasn’t moving fast enough. After a few big circles she dragged me over to where my mom was stewing.
“Say ‘Hi’ to your mom,” Laura instructed, working the wedgie and making me yelp.
“Hi, mom,” I gasped at my scowling mother. Laura dragged me away to the other side of the mat; she parked me in front of Melissa, ordering her daughter to take off her socks and shoes, then yanking my head down towards my rival’s feet. I tried to pull my head back and Laura slammed her foot up into my stomach; she gave me two more, and I could barely stay on all fours, unable to resist this time as Laura dragged my face over her daughter’s toes, cackling. Then she pulled me up to my feet, snapmaring me over her shoulder; I hit the floor on my back with a grunt. I knew I had to get up quickly, but I was hurt and only managed to climb up to my knees before Laura came up behind me, unzipping my suit and yanking the straps down off my shoulders, tugging the material down to my stomach, exposing my breasts. I reached to pull it back up but Laura grabbed my wrists, pulling my arms behind me, planting her foot in my back and pushing as she pulled on my limbs. This hurt like hell, but before Laura managed to inflict much damage I simply stood up, turning to face her and breaking the hold. She clearly didn’t expect this and I hit her hard in the stomach, relishing her pained gasp and her eyes bugging out as my fist sank into her breadbasket. I followed that by bracing my hands on her shoulders, then hitting her with a knee strike in the same spot; Laura bent over in front of me, coughing and holding her tummy.
I decided to use a move that had worked well on her daughter, going around to her left side and slapping a hammerlock on her left arm. I yanked her wrist up as far as I could as Laura wailed, trying to ineffectively slap at me with her right hand. I started spanking her, my older opponent’s high cut suit providing absolutely no protection as I rained slaps on her round ass. After turning her cheeks red I unzipped her suit all the way down - I couldn’t get it completely off with the hammerlock on, but I went around behind her and got my right hand in her suit, reaching around her body and cupping her right breast. I eased up on the hammerlock a bit, just enough to keep her under control, as I started groping her boob, rubbing my crotch against her ass for good measure.
I guess I got a bit lost in my work, enjoying groping my opponent until, with one quick motion, Laura bent down and forward and tossed me over her back. I lost the hammerlock, yelling in surprise, then grunting as I hit the mat on my back. I wasn’t hurt, just stunned, but that was enough of an opportunity for Laura to attack, dropping an elbow into my stomach. The hard, bony tip drove the wind out of me with the impact, and I covered myself with a gasp; the next thing I knew Laura had swung the momentum back in her favor as she pulled me up to my feet, laying a short uppercut into my aching belly. She went around to my left side and got her own hammerlock - a bit sloppy, but enough to keep me there as she started landing knee lifts into my tummy. Two of these left me so weak I could barely stand and I covered my midsection with my free arm, but that just prompted Laura to land the next strike to my chest, her thigh crushing my tits against my ribs. This was too much and I fell down on my front, my arm slipping out of Laura’s grip. She sat down on my butt, and I frantically tried to buck her off me; she leaned forward and locked my arms up with a strong full nelson, then leaned back; my upper body came off the mat as she pulled past the point of discomfort until she was painfully wrenching my back. It hurt so bad that I didn’t even care she was pointing my bare boobs at my angry mother as I squealed. Laura rocked back and forth, the slight relief at the pressure easing up when she moved forward more than made up for by the hideous agony of my back getting torqued as she leaned backwards. I made an attempt to escape by pushing up with my legs, but Laura was too far back; I was at her mercy as she worked me over with this hold. By the time she released me and let me flop down to the ground, my back felt like it was on fire; I barely noticed as she rolled me on my left side, then my right, pulling my suit the rest of the way off, leaving me totally naked. She stood over me and removed her own suit, as well, I think trying to assert dominance as she stared down at me while shedding it, but I was far too busy trying not to cry and rubbing my back to be intimidated.
My opponent rolled me over onto my chest and landed a stomp on my back; she only intended this to hurt me enough so she could execute her next move without any resistance, but with the damage she’d inflicted she left me screaming. For good measure she landed a stomp to the back of my head. Then she went around to my front, her toes brushing my shoulders, reaching down and hooking her hands in my armpits. She started dragging me across the room, giving my tits a painful mat burn; she pulled me all the way over to one of the walls, then rolled me back over, pulling me up to my feet, pushing me back against the wall. She held my shoulders pinned to the wall with her left hand and started punching me in the stomach with her right; she knocked the wind out of me quickly, and only her grip on my shoulders was keeping me vertical as I gagged and tried not to throw up.
It only got worse as Laura, sneering, switched from her gut punches to absolutely devastating knife-edge chops to my chest. I don’t know where she learned how to do these, but I was soon looking back on her full nelson camel clutch with warm nostalgia as she crushed my tits with chop after chop. I screamed until I was hoarse, trying and failing to hold down tears as my boobs swelled and bruised under the repeated impacts. Each chop somehow hurt worse than the last, and any thought of fighting back was driven from my mind, replaced with an explosion of pain from each one of Laura’s chops. When I tried to cover my chest with my own right arm she unleashed another gut punch; I groaned, drooling, but managed to stay covered up until she took a half step forward and slammed her knee into my crotch. That dropped my arm and with a dismissive snort she pushed me back against the wall and resumed her chops. In the end I don’t know how many I took; by the time she was finished and let go my shoulders I slumped down to a sitting position, my eyes closed, crying softly and cradling my chest, a mess of dark, bruised skin. Laura grabbed the thick tendril of hair I’d left hanging for her as a trap, but I was now too far gone to do anything about it; she tugged on it, pulling my head back so I was looking up at her. She leaned down and spit on my face, the drew her right leg back for a kick. I had a thought of moving, but of course with her holding my hair I couldn’t do anything of the sort, and her right foot came slamming into my face, ugly stars exploding in front of my vision as she knocked me half unconscious. I slumped over on my right hand side, unable to move. Laura pulled me off the wall, laying me on my back, then grabbed my ankles and pulled me to the center of the mat. She pulled me up to my feet - I couldn’t even stay standing without her supporting me - bending me over in front of her, then lifted me off the mat upside down. She held me there, making a broad circle as blood rushed to my head, then finished me with a piledriver; the impact knocked me out, the last thing I remember a lightning bolt of shocking pain exploding from the top of my head, running up my spine.
When I came to I was staring up at the ceiling; for a second I thought she’d killed me as I couldn’t feel anything. But then I felt the bottom of Laura’s sweaty foot, my opponent pressing it against my face as she posed, then I heard her scream at my mom: “Your little bitch is finished!” She took her foot off me, leaning down to taunt me: “Isn’t that right, little bitch?” She twisted my right nipple, and I screamed, although this came out as a strangled, pathetic yell. “Answer me!” she barked.
“I’m finished,” I panted. “I surrender. Please, let me give up...” Laura drew her hand back for a slap, but just laughed when I flinched. She left me laying there to go to her corner, unzipping her messenger bag. I groaned as I saw her lift her strapon out of it; she slid into it and quickly buckled it tight, then retrieved a tube of strawberry lubricant from the bag as well. She turned to face me, leering at me as she squirted a generous amount of lube into her right hand, jerking the dildo off with it.
“Remember this, Emily?” She started coming back over to me; my brain screamed at my body to back away from her, but I couldn’t move. I’m sure Laura relished the look of terror in my eyes. “Guess where it’s going this time?”
“No,” I begged. “Please, not there-”
“Get up!” she yelled. “All fours!”
“I can’t,” I pleaded. “I can’t move.”
“Fine.” She bent down and picked me up, carrying me like a baby over to where her daughter was sitting, then tipped me out of her arms, dumping me on the mats on my chest. She kicked me over onto my back, then got behind me, lifting my hips up. I ended up holding onto Melissa’s ankles, panting in nervous terror as my opponent gave my ass a few swats. “You remember, Emily? I didn’t get to do this last time, but I’ve been thinking about it ever since. Melissa, get your shorts off.”
With a sigh Melissa got out of her chair and pushed it aside; at her mom’s instructions she slid out of her shorts and panties, sitting down on the mat in front of me. I rested my face on her inner left thigh as I felt Laura scooting forward. To my intense dismay, she was gently pressing the tip of her strapon against my clenched asshole.
“Not there,” I gasped. “The other place. Please.”
“Why, Emily,” Laura pretended to be shocked, “You’re asking me to fuck your ugly loser pussy? Is that it?”
“Yes! Please... please!”
“No,” she cackled. “No, you didn’t earn that, you little whore.” With that she started working the strapon up my ass. I unclenched as best I could, moaning as she slid the dildo all the way home. She started fucking my ass, slowly, relishing humiliating me. At first she had both hands braced on my hips, but as she worked her left hand reached down to start teasing my clit, then she started fingering me with her right, quickly going from a slow, gentle rub to pumping me with one finger, then two. It was too much for me; I gently pushed back against her, seeking more sensation as I got more and more worked up; despite - or, I guess, maybe because of - the extra humiliation, it wasn’t too long before I was nearing a climax between Laura’s pistoning dildo fucking my ass and her teasing, pumping fingers attacking my pussy. This did not escape Laura’s attention: “God, you’re such a dirty little slut. Look at you, are you really going to cum just from this?” I made a gurgling, whining moan as she slowed her fingers down, until they were barely moving. “Ah ah ah, you don’t get to cum until my daughter does!”
Now I don’t know if Melissa likes girls, but if she doesn’t, her mom going at me that close to her must’ve triggered a response anyway as I could smell her excitement. I leaned forward and started licking her pussy as her mother slowed her hip thrusts even more, mercilessly edging me with her fingers. I desperately wished I’d started on Melissa sooner now; I entered a hell of denial, trying to thrust my hips back and forth against Laura even as I frantically ate out her daughter, trying to get Melissa to climax as fast as possible so it would be my turn next. It felt like hours before Melissa finally got there; she braced her hands on the back of my head, pushing my face further into her crotch, her breathing turning into ragged panting; I could have cried with relief as Laura resumed fingering me, flooding my body with pleasure. Melissa was still riding her peak as Laura finished me; I managed a few more desperate licks before my body went limp.
I ended up laying on my chest, completely destroyed. I felt like I’d never be able to move again. Laura pulled out, giving my butt one last smack. Melissa got me a towel from her mom’s bag to wipe her juices off my face, but I couldn’t even lift my arm; Melissa had to roll me over as she did her best to clean me up. As she towelled off my chin, I could see that my mom was out of her seat, face to face with Laura in the center of the mats, my mom in her tasteful purple cold shoulder shirt and white capri pants, Laura covered in sweat, the strapon still proudly protruding in front of her, slick with lube and my juices.
“Did you like that show?” Laura sneered. “Pretty impressive, right?”
“You’re just a bully,” Mom barked.
“Maybe. But I just destroyed your little girl, didn’t I?”
“I’d rather have my daughter lose a thousand fights than turn into a mean nasty bitch like you,” my mom hissed.
“You haven’t seen mean and nasty yet,” Laura growled back.
“Why don’t you show me?”
“You really want to do this, Angela?” Laura laughed. “Fine, I’ll be happy to beat your ass just like I creamed your daughter. Let’s go, I’m ready now!”
“I’m sure you are, but I’m not the kind of dirty cheater who jumps someone after they’ve just finished a fight. I’ll take you on here next week.”
“Fine. Next week, then. And make sure Emily’s here to watch. Maybe she’ll learn something from watching me beat your ass into the ground!”
With that Laura turned on her heel and marched over to where her swimsuit still lay on the mat, picking it up and then coming over to her corner; I flinched as she came close, but she ignored me, unhooking the strapon and dropping it into her bag, then slipping into her suit and zipping it up. She paused to give me one last disdainful sneer as Melissa got her clothes back on, and the blondes left as my mother carried me upstairs to bed.
* * *
After losing to my rival’s mom, I didn’t want to even get out of bed; more than being physically beaten, the humiliation of my enemy’s mother fucking my ass with a strapon, my face buried in her daughter’s crotch, while my mom had to watch was just too much. I never wanted to fight again, and in fact I couldn’t wait until September rolled around so I could move out of state into my dorm, but it was barely the middle of July, so I had a while to go. But, of course, the next week was the revenge match. Mom had started training basically the minute Laura was out the door; by the time I was able to get up and help a few days later, she was already surprisingly good, able to throw and take hits better than I could with two real fights under my belt. I suspected this wasn’t her first fight, but she just smiled when I asked her.
Like my own fight with Laura, this one would be taking place in the living room with the furniture cleared out, mats on the floor, and the two spectators - me and Melissa this time - watching on folding chairs. Laura brought over her bag again, and I knew whatever was in there would be used on Mom if she lost. I’d offered to help her with her outfit, but she’d politely declined, and I found out why as she simply stripped completely naked and went to meet Laura in the middle of the mats. Laura didn’t seem too surprised and stripped out of her swimsuit, balling it up and throwing it to her daughter.
It was easy to contrast the women as they faced off; Laura was taller where my mother was shorter, about 5’4”, and thicker, with wider shoulders and hips. Both women had big tits and large asses, but my mother’s breasts were droopier, topped with small, dark nipples compared to Laura’s pink ones. My mother has fairly light skin - she only looked dark next to me, and liked corny jokes about how Casper was haunting the house - and has a little bit of a square face, although middle age and putting on a few pounds (sorry, mom) had softened it a little bit. Her black hair was shorter than Laura’s, but not by much, long in the back with flat bangs in front; I guess she wasn’t worried about it getting grabbed.
Laura looked over my mother’s shoulders to sneer at me: “Are your tits still swollen, Emily?” I opened my mouth to yell something back, but she cut me off with “I hope so, at least then they look bigger than mosquito bites!”
“Don’t you dare talk to her,” Mom yelled in my tormentor’s face.
“You should be worried about yourself, Angela! I beat your little girl’s ass, and now it’s your turn. I would say it won’t take long, but you’ve got a lot more fat ass to beat. You do realize we’re not doing sumo?” Laura scoffed at my mom’s figure.
“That’s Japan. We’re from Korea,” Mom yelled. I could see Laura trying to think of an insult specifically for Koreans, but she couldn’t find one and had to settle for just calling my mom a fat bitch. Mom, having calmed herself, icily asked if Laura was done talking shit; steaming, the blonde offered my mother a test of strength. I was a little worried as Mom accepted and they locked hands; Laura had overpowered me pretty easily in our own fight, and I was a little embarrassed to see that my mother did much better, holding her own as the two moms pushed against each other. I think my mom was stronger, but Laura had a height advantage that mostly neutralized this; for a few minutes they just pushed each other around the mats, both of them grunting and starting to sweat with effort. In the end mom started getting the upper hand, slowly working Laura’s hands down. The blonde screamed with effort, her arms shaking as she fruitlessly tried to hold her ground, at least until she unleashed a vicious surprise kick between her opponent’s legs. Mom gasped and I could see the strength leave her body as Laura, cackling, shoved her down to the mat, sitting on her stomach. The blonde fighter tried to repeat the same moves she’d used on me at the beginning of our own fight, sliding up to sit on my mother’s shoulders and trying to get her wrists trapped under her thighs, but my mother got her hands on Laura’s hips and heaved her off to the side.
The fighters got up and approached, and Laura aimed another kick between mom’s legs, but I breathed a sigh of relief as my mom turned her leg defensively and took the hit on her thigh, leaving Laura open for a counterattack. Mom drew her arm back and slugged Laura in the face, her fist smacking into the blonde’s mouth. Laura reeled backwards, mom following her and laying a punch into her flat stomach. Laura tried to push my mother away, but it looked like the hits had temporary sapped her strength, and she couldn’t back her opponent up even a step. Mom came in on her and repaid Laura’s crotch kick, lifting her knee between the blonde’s thighs. Laura leaned forward, desperately hugging Mom to stay standing; my mother hugged her back, then with a grunt lifted Laura right off the mat, bracing her right knee, and slammed the blonde down crotch-first.
Laura screamed as her pussy took the impact, rolling off Mom’s leg, curling up in a ball and holding herself. I couldn’t help but smile at this, clapping loudly as my mother kicked Laura over on her back. Mom dropped an elbow into Laura’s stomach, leaving the blonde gasping in shock, but when she went for a second one Laura managed to roll out of the way at the last second. I wasn’t used to hearing my mom swear, and the loud curse she screamed as her elbow slammed into the mats meant she must’ve been in considerable pain; she was hurt enough at least to give Laura enough time to get to her feet, and both women faced off warily, fists up. They closed throwing quick slaps and hard punches, Laura setting the tone immediately, nailing my mother in the chest with a vicious uppercut slap, the loud smack of skin on skin echoing off the walls as she lifted Mom’s left breast almost high enough to hit her in the face in a shower of sweat. Mom, snarling, came back with a straight right, crushing her opponent’s big left breast against her ribs. Laura squealed and smashed a left hook to the side of my mother’s face, staggering her. She tried to capitalize, grabbing my mother’s shoulders and aiming a knee at her stomach, but Mom caught her knee with both hands and pushed her away. The women squared up again and I thought I saw Laura getting ready for a kick or knee to the crotch, stepping back and bracing her left leg, ready to strike with her right; I yelled “Mom, look out!” but was too late as the blonde swung her right leg up, the top of her foot smashing into my mother’s bare crotch.
Mom went down to her knees, gasping in shock, her arms hanging uselessly at her sides. Laura reached down, braced her arms on Mom’s shoulders, then drew her right leg back; I almost couldn’t stand to watch as her knee smashed into my mom’s face, knocking her down on her back, her nose oozing blood.
Laura turned in triumphant anger to her corner: “Did you even see that move? You should be cheering for me!”
“Whatever, mom,” Melissa called back, then mumbled “I’m way over this.”
I saw the chance to fan the flames a little bit and hopefully buy my mother some time to recover.
“Do you want me to cheer you on, Mrs. Sullivan?” I chirped. She turned to face me, hands on hips, and if looks could kill she would’ve cut me dead with the glare she was aiming at me. I could see Mom shaking her head and getting to her knees; just a little more, I thought.
“You just be quiet!” she barked. “Just wait and see what I’ve got in store -” she didn’t get any further as Mom had managed to get up and charge her, hitting her from behind, her shoulders slamming into the back of Laura’s knees. Both women went down, the blonde landing hard on her front, Mom on top of her. Laura tried to roll over, but my mom still had her arms around the blonde’s thighs and held her down against the mat. Laura tried to get one of her legs free, I think to kick Mom in the face, but her opponent’s grip was too strong; Mom slowly stood up, sliding her hands down until she was holding Laura’s ankles, spreading the blonde’s legs wide, lifting her ankles up so high Laura’s hips were off the mat. She drew her leg back for a kick and I leaned forward in my seat. Laura screamed as my mother’s foot came up and slammed into her crotch; a second one drew an even louder shriek of agony as Laura frantically tried to escape, first by pressing up, which didn’t do anything, then trying to roll over to her left or right, which she couldn’t manage with Mom still holding her ankles. I almost felt bad for Laura as she took a third kick to her most vulnerable spot - almost. I leaned back in my chair to watch her get destroyed. Mom kept kicking her until Laura seemed half unconscious, lost in a haze of agony, her screams becoming animalistic grunts at the repeated impacts.
By the time Mom finally dropped Laura’s legs, it looked like the blonde was pretty much out of the fight; she managed to roll onto her right side and cover her crotch, but nothing else as my mother stalked her. When it was clear that Laura was hurt badly, Mom came in and pulled her up to her feet; Laura could barely stand on her own, and I clapped loudly as Mom set Laura up to finish her with her own version of the match-ending piledriver my enemy had knocked me out with in our own match. Mom got her upside down, holding her there for a second as I cheered; then I savored the sight of Laura being driven into the mats head-first, the loud smack as the top of her skull impacted the ground with all of her body weight behind it, her muffled groan as Mom released her and she fell over heavily, laying in a boneless, defeated heap on the mats. It looked like she didn’t pass out like I did, but maybe she wished she had as she panted in shock. Mom got on top of her, left hand around her neck, right hand between her legs, threatening a pussy claw, the palm of her hand pressed flat against Laura’s lower lips, not yet squeezing:
“I’m going to ask you this once. Do you give up?”
“Yes!” Laura yelled. “Don’t, please!”
“And you’ll do whatever I say?”
“I promise!”
“Good,” Mom got off her. “Come here. Get over my knee.” Laura, trembling, assumed the position and my mother started laying a hellacious spanking on her. I knew from experience how much this hurt, and Mom had no mercy; Laura got it even worse than I had after wrecking the car while texting. Laura’s yelps and small cries of humiliated pain were music to my ears; her round butt turned red under the punishment as the blonde started crying freely.
Finished with this, Mom flipped Laura off her knee, then got her up on all fours, making her crawl over to where I was sitting. I raised my eyebrows but didn’t say anything.
“Well, do you have something to say to my daughter?”
“No,” Laura mumbled, looking at the floor.
“I think you’d better tell her how sorry you are.”
“M’sorry.”
"Now, you can do better than that." Mom grabbed Laura's hair, yanking it back and making her look up at me. "Why don't you try again, or I'll crush your pussy." Mom’s other hand reached for the blonde’s crotch.
“No, I’m sorry!” Laura wailed.
Mom motioned for me to extend one of my bare feet in front of Laura’s face; I presented the beaten woman with my right foot, wiggling my toes an inch from her mouth. Laura leaned forward and started sucking on them, and I almost yanked my leg back instinctively at the ticklish sensation. She moved from my big toe to the pinkie, then I switched feet and she did the same for my left one.
I thought that was it, but Mom told me to take off my shirt, then my bra after that. She pulled Laura up to her knees, then shoved her face against my still slightly swollen chest.
“Look what you did!” Mom yelled. “You’d better kiss them so they feel better!”
I sighed contentedly as the blonde MILF started kissing my nipples, then running her tongue around them as they got hard; she started gently nibbling them as I squirmed in my chair. My mother’s voice broke into my reverie: “Emily, take your bottoms off.” Obligingly I stood up and shed my pajama pants and underwear as Mom grabbed my discarded bra and tied Laura’s hands tightly behind her back. I sat down again and my mother shoved Laura’s face between my legs, then got on her knees behind her, reaching around the blonde’s body and squeezing her tits, giving her an incentive to get me off quickly. Laura began eating me out frantically, attacking my pussy with fast, long licks as I gently put my hands on the top of her head, losing myself in pleasure. She took me over the edge quickly; I laid back against the back of the chair, my toes curling against the floor, my hands pushing Laura’s head deeper between my legs. I rode my climax for a wonderful minute, then slowly started coming down, sighing happily. Mom had left off Laura’s tits, letting her slump to the floor. I made eye contact with my victorious mother, who gestured at Laura: Was I done with her?
“One more thing,” I panted, slowly getting out of the chair, still winded. Mom sat on Laura, pointlessly holding her down, as I walked over to where Melissa sat, unzipping Laura’s bag and lifting the strapon out. I stepped into it and pulled it up, surprised as Melissa got out of her chair and started helping me adjust the straps for my narrower hips.
“Don’t get the wrong idea,” she whispered. “I just want to get this over with. No offense, I never want to see you again.”
“Agreed.” The straps done, I got the lube out of the bag; Melissa took it from me, squirting a huge amount onto her hands, then rubbing them together and applying it along the length of the dildo. I guess she was worried I wasn’t going to use enough; when she was satisfied she nodded to me and I went over to where Laura was waiting for me, eyes wide with fear. My mother pulled her up to a sitting position, using her hair to pull her head back. I cupped Laura’s face in my hands and pushed forward, shoving the fake cock between her lips.
“You like that strawberry taste?” I taunted her as I fucked her mouth. If she tried to respond, I couldn’t hear it over her gagging. For fun I started slapping her cheeks, my beaten victim groaning around her own fake cock. Next, I pulled out and asked Mom if she could get Laura on all fours for the big finale; she did easily, and I got behind Laura, gripping her hips and lining up the strapon. I teased her pussy with the tip for a second, then yelled “You don’t deserve this!” and changed my target to her asshole. “Do you want to beg first? I’ll listen.”
“Please,” Laura started, her voice low and quavering. “Please, don’t. Not in front of my little girl.”
“What!” I slapped her sore ass angrily. “You raped my asshole in front of my mother! No, you earned this!” I started pushing in as Laura whined and struggled under me. About a third of the way in she surrendered to the inevitable and unclenched, and between that and the huge amount of lube Melissa had slathered in, I slid the rest of the way in easily. I kept my left hand on her hips, then reached forward with my right to grab her long hair and pull as I started mercilessly fucking her ass. Laura finally broke completely on the strapon, gasping and sobbing, reduced to a sweaty, beaten, humiliated mess; only my grip on her hair kept her head up as I ravaged her backside. I focused all the pain and humiliation she’d inflicted on me into my thrusts, until my hips burned with fatigue; I could only imagine what Laura’s ass must’ve felt like as I finally pulled out, releasing her hair. She collapsed in a pathetic heap, unable to stand or even move; Melissa came over with her mom’s street clothes, and I helped her pour Laura into them. I went to take the strapon off and return it, but Melissa mumbled “Keep it,” and I did. I guess the whole thing had a happy enough ending; I’ve still got the strapon, along with the mostly empty lube bottle and Laura’s bag, in a box under my bed with my other trophies.