Black Widow Back Alley Beating

My wife was practically vibrating with excitement as the Marvel logo started playing. Black Widow was her favorite movie character, and it was fair to say she was pumped for the solo movie. She was so amped she had mindlessly eaten half of our shared medium popcorn during the previews, depositing a small mountain of used napkins on my lap.

Jo was being careful with her outfit, a screen-perfect replica of Black Widow’s Iron Man 2 black leather catsuit, unzipped a bit in the front to show off some cleavage. She filled it out quite well, in great shape from biking several miles a day - it was almost a crime to cover her ripped abs, arms and legs up with the catsuit, but it did show off her big, round ass in the back, and her thick, strong legs and C-cups in the front. She’d gotten quite a few looks on the way into the movie, and they definitely all weren’t for the massive replica Infinity Gauntlet on her left arm.

She had matched Black Widow’s hair as well, a curly waterfall of dark red down past her shoulders; her dark roots had come in a little bit, but she’d just had it touched up for the movie. Of course, her face didn’t really look like Scarlett Johannsen’s; my wife has dark eyes, a flat, wide nose, full lips, and a narrower face than the real Black Widow, not to mention beautiful black skin. (She enjoyed the surprise sometimes caused when someone saw her in full costume from behind and didn’t notice her skin color, which was only visible on her hands; when she turned around and they saw how dark she was, she got some interesting reactions.)

Jo reached over with her right hand (the left was still inside the huge gauntlet prop) and gave my own left hand a squeeze as the Marvel logo started up. I shifted in my Dr. Strange outfit, settling into my seat as the now almost comically long Marvel logo played. 

Before it was halfway over, a fellow movie goer had gotten out of her seat and gone in front of the screen. We were front row center, and not six feet away from us was a tall, fat lady dressed up like Harley Quinn from the terrible first Suicide Squad movie - even in the dark of the theater I could see the red and blue streaks in her blonde pigtails and what looked like a 3XL Daddy’s Little Monster 3 quarter sleeve shirt.

“Hey!” Harley screamed over the music. “Listen!” Then she started yelling spoilers for the movie. She was quickly drowned out with loud boos and jeers, but she knew what to lead with, and had half the movie spoiled. Before I knew what was happening Jo had jumped out of her seat, charged Harley, and laid her out flat with a sucker punch.

By the time the ushers got everyone seperated and the lights came up, me, my wife, and Harley were all ejected; Harley got herself a lifetime ban from the establishment, while Jo was lucky not to get arrested. At the time I didn’t feel very lucky - we were all thrown out into the alley behind the theater, and the heavy metal fire door slammed shut with a loud clang, leaving the three of us looking at each other in the hot July sun.

Harley was actually kind of cute - she had a round face, big slightly crazed blue eyes, a small nose and plump little lips adorned with sloppy lipstick, currently twisted into a huge, shit-eating grin. Jo, on the other hand, looked ready to commit murder.

“Fucking bitch,” Jo hissed. “I bet you think you’re pretty slick.”

“You have to admit it’s pretty funny,” Harley giggled.

“No, it’s not fuckin’ funny!” Jo took her gauntlet off and handed it to me without looking. “Let’s go, bitch!”

“Oh, okay,” Harley rolled her eyes. “You want to fight me? Marvel fangirls are so pathetic-”

“You’re the one wasting your day yelling spoilers in front of the fucking movie!” Jo yelled. 

“Yeah, keep your pants on. I’ll be happy to lay you out,” Harley sneered. 

The two women squared up, and it was hard not for me to be worried. Jo had some fight training - to help her get into character - and was in great shape, but the sheer size mismatch had me sweating; Jo is five four while Harley was about my height, almost six feet, and she was a large woman - wide shoulders, huge tits, and thick limbs. She looked like she could take a lot of punishment, and I just hoped Jo was going to be able to dish out enough to keep her opponent down; today already sucked, and the last thing I wanted to do after this was take my beaten wife to the hospital.

The best case scenario I could imagine was that Harley wouldn’t know how to fight at all, and as she lumbered at Jo throwing a very telegraphed slap at my wife, it looked like I might get lucky. Jo, seeing the blow coming, ducked in and slammed her fist into Harley’s stomach; the white fighter took it with a deep grunt, then sent my wife stumbling backwards with a vicious backhand.

"That all you got?" the DC fan sneered. "You're weaker than the script for Thor 2!" Harley grabbed my wife's long hair with her left hand, pulling the smaller fighter forward into her own gut punch. Jo has a very strong stomach, but she wasn’t ready for this hit and gasped, leaning against Harley; the bigger woman cruelly kneed her in the crotch, and that put my wife down on her back in the filthy alley, holding herself and moaning.

"Pathetic!" Harley spat, straddling Jo. "Thought you could at least put up a little bit of a fight!" She reached down and grabbed Jo's hair again, pulling my wife up to a sitting position; she drew her right hand back for a knockout punch, but before she could land it Jo launched a desperate uppercut between the legs.

Harley froze with a keening scream of pain; her hands flew down to cover her crotch, which provided no protection as  Jo lined up a second uppercut, and now it was Harley's turn to fall down holding herself as Jo shakily got to her feet, laying furious kicks into her larger opponent's belly and tits.

"Fucking asshole!" my wife screamed as the tip of her boot sank into Harley's soft tummy. "I'm gonna end you like the box office for Justice League ended the DC universe! Get up, bitch!" Harley rolled over, but didn't seem to be able to rise right away. Jo approached cautiously, looking to make sure her opponent didn't swing the match back in her favor with another hit to the crotch. Jo waited until Harley was sitting up, then ran in aiming a kick at her face; the blonde saw this coming and twisted out of the way, leaving my wife to barrel past her, missing the kick so badly she almost fell down.

Jo managed to stay on her feet, but by the time she stopped and turned around, her opponent had plenty of time to get up. The women squared up, fists held high. Harley attacked first, aiming a low kick at Jo’s right knee. My wife jumped back, avoiding the hit, then countered with a slap at Harley’s face, but her evasive move had put her at such long range her slap landed awkwardly, not seeming to do anything more than anger her opponent. Harley aimed another knee between my wife’s leg, but Jo foiled the attack, closing her thighs with a wide smile.

“Gonna have to do better than that!” she barked in Harley’s face. Her opponent’s response was to draw her head back and unleash a massive headbutt. For a second I was worried she'd broken my wife's nose as I heard a scary crunch of Harley's forehead smashing into my wife's face, leaving Jo reeling backwards, her eyes glassy. 

Harley, snarling, tried yet another knee lift into my wife’s crotch; this time Jo was too stunned to do anything but stand there and take it, a low, pitiful moan oozing out of her lips as her opponent’s knee smashed into her pussy. I watched in horror as Jo slowly sank down to her knees; a straight kick to the jaw put her down on her back. 

“You enjoying the view back there?” Harley laughed over her shoulder at me. “Here, watch this!” She rolled Jo over onto her chest, reaching down and unzipping her suit. The zipper came down easy enough, but pulling Jo’s arms out of the sleeves took a while, and I could see my wife starting to recover as Harley struggled to strip her. The blonde only had the suit down to my wife’s waist before Jo managed to roll over and started frantically raining slaps on her. Harley tried to keep going, but one lucky hit on her fat right breast was enough to back her off, watching as Jo climbed to her feet, looking tired and hurt but nowhere near defeated.

“C’mon, bitch,” Jo waved her opponent on. “I’m gonna end you like how Birds of Prey ended your shitty solo movies! Come on!” 

Harley came in with her eyes glued to my wife’s bare tits, reaching for Jo’s big, dark nipples; my wife sidestepped easily, snapping off a crisp side kick into her opponent’s belly. It looked like Harley didn’t know how to take a hit properly as my wife’s foot drove the wind out of the big woman’s body in a wet gasp, her eyes bugging out as she stumbled backwards. Jo came after her, grabbing one pigtail and yanking Harley’s face down into a rising fist; I could hear the impact of my wife’s knuckles from here as they smashed into the bigger woman’s mouth. Harley whimpered, weakly trying to push my wife away, getting a hard punch to the belly for her trouble.

“Finish her off!” I yelled through cupped hands. My wife stopped to shoot me a wink before turning back to her opponent, kneeing Harley hard in the gut, dropping the blonde to her knees. Jo went behind her, kneeling down and applying a strong choke, her right arm pressing against her opponent’s neck.

"Go to sleep, bitch," Jo hissed in her opponent's ear as she worked the sleeper. “Just pretend you’re watching Batman vs Superman and go to sleep!” Harley writhed frantically in my wife’s grasp; at the time I didn’t notice, but she was bracing her right shoulder under my wife’s chin. With a roar Harley managed to rise halfway off the ground, then dropped down, executing a surprise Stunner on my wife. The impact sent Jo up to her feet, then stumbling drunkenly backwards, as Harley got up and turned to face her, the blonde rubbing her neck and growling.

I could not get a grip on Harley’s fighting style; it wasn’t like anything I’d ever seen before - one minute she was throwing sloppy, awkward slaps, then she was turning the tables on my wife with expert moves like the one she had just devastated Jo with. I watched through my fingers, cringing, as Harley came in on my wife, slamming lefts and rights into my wife’s stomach. Jo at least managed to brace herself, but when the blonde saw that her hits weren’t doing much she shifted her target higher, rocking Jo back with a left hook to the jaw, then knocking her down with a big right straight to the mouth.

My wife landed hard on the dirty ground, the back of her head smacking off the hot concrete. She lay there limp as Harley finished stripping her catsuit off, leaving Jo wearing nothing but her short boots. The blonde sat down on Jo’s hips, reaching forwards and cupping her breasts.

“All right, not bad,” she admitted. “But look at these!” Harley took off her shirt, tossing it over her shoulder, then her bra, her big, pale tits tumbling free as she threw this away as well. She leaned forward, her hands resting on the ground, then slowly lowered herself down, trapping my wife’s face between her fat boobs. 

Jo started struggling, trying to push Harley off, but the blonde was too heavy to be easily moved; I could see Jo was wasting the oxygen already in her system, unable to get any more through the titsmother. I thought this might be the end as Jo appeared to give up, her arms falling to the stained concrete, her thrashing legs going slack.

“Yeah, go to sleep,” Harley cooed. “You can dream about having a character as iconic as Superman in your shitty movies!” This brought Jo to life again, slamming short punches into Harley’s sides; the blonde grunted in pain as my wife’s fists hammered her midsection, but she held on through the assault; Jo faded quickly, and I had the sinking feeling I was watching the end of the fight. 

I had to do something. I took a deep breath, cupped my hands over my mouth and yelled “Joker is just a King of Comedy ripoff!”

“What?!” Harley screamed at me over her shoulder. 

“Yeah, it was okay because it’s a copy of a better movie-”

“Hey, Dr. Limp Dick!” Harley screamed at me. “Hey, shut up!” I felt a mix of relief as she climbed off Jo and then a stab of fear as she approached me threateningly. “Your movie sucked anyway! You’re just an Inception ripoff!”

“What? You’re out of your mind! Because they both have amazing special effects-”

“And Benedict Cumberbatch has a terrible American accent!” She poked me aggressively in the chest. “Look at Margo Robbie, she sounds like she’s really from Brooklyn!”

“You’re out of your god damned mind!” I yelled back at her. “Wonder Woman 1984 was so bad-”

“And Joker was a masterpiece!” she poked me again. “Over a billion dollars for an R rated movie-”

Over her shoulder, I saw Jo slowly sitting up, shaking her head and panting heavily; I just had to buy her some more time. 

“You know what?” I yelled over Harley lecturing me on the global box office success of Joker. “I didn’t even like the Dark Knight movies!”

“What?!” she howled. “You fucking idiot! You complete fucking buffoon!”

“Heath Ledger’s performance wasn’t that great!”

Harley shoved me hard, sending me back a few steps; damn, she was strong. She followed me, shoving me again, this one putting my back up against a wall. She stepped up to me with a snarl, pressing one thick arm against my neck.

“You’re fucking next,” she hissed. “You and me now. I’m gonna-”

“Hey!” Jo screamed. Harley turned slowly in disbelief that my wife was back on her feet. “Hey!” Jo repeated, coming up to us as Harley turned away from me. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” Jo came standing in front of us, hands on her hips, a disgusted sneer on her face. 

“Typical fucking DC fangirl,” Jo spat. “Wantin’ to eat your dessert before dinner. This is why your shared universe is dead!”

“Fuck you!” Harley screamed, her face flushing red. “Wonder Woman-”

“Oh, you got one good movie?” Jo yelled over her. “You got one good fuckin’ movie? Your cinematic universe is fucking trash! Just like you!”

That did it; Harley charged Jo, screaming “Aquaman made a billion dollars!”. My wife took a careful step back, unleashing a monster clothesline, her forearm smashing right into Harley’s windpipe. The blonde stopped dead, falling down awkwardly, holding her neck and gagging, her face turning even redder as she coughed and wheezed. She was laying on her right side, and Jo calmly went around to her front and started laying kicks into the blonde’s big stomach. Harley took two of these, then the third had enough force to push her over onto her back; Jo dropped a beautiful elbow into her opponent’s gut, driving any remaining air out of the blonde.

My wife set about stripping her opponent the rest of the way, yanking her shorts and bottoms off, leaving both women in just their footwear, Jo in her boots and Harley in her shoes and socks. The blonde managed to roll over and get up to all fours, but she still looked pretty winded; Jo sent her back to the concrete with a massive axe kick, her heel smashing into the back of Harley’s head. 

“All right, finish her off!” I yelled. I’d seen the momentum of the match swing back and forth too many times to relax until Harley was truly done. Jo nodded and left the blonde gasping on the ground, picking up one of the big garbage bins lined up against the movie theater. She grunted as she lifted it over her head; it was full, a little garbage spilling out of the top as she walked back to Harley, throwing it down on the blonde’s back with a scream.

The heavy trashcan slammed into Harley’s back, garbage scuttling out all over the ground; this put an end to the big woman’s struggling as she lay still. Jo walked up to her, reaching down to grab Harley’s red pigtail, yanking it up and pulling Harley’s face off the concrete; Jo kicked her in the face, twice, and I could see blood on the tip of her boot after the second kick. My wife released her opponent’s hair, then shifted the garbage bin off to the side; Harley still didn’t move as Jo rolled the big woman over on her back. Just to be sure, Jo gave her a vicious stomp, slamming the thick heel of her boot into Harley’s nose. 

The blonde’s only response to this was a pitiful moan; I didn’t want to get my hopes up, but it sure seemed like she was done. Jo circled her, prodding her with quick, darting kicks. Harley soaked these up, only making an abortive attempt to roll over. When she couldn’t even manage this, Jo moved in and sealed her victory with a facesit, pressing her crotch down against her beaten opponent’s mouth.

My wife waved me over, and I was relieved that my outfit was made up of upper and lower robes instead of one solid piece as she yanked my pants down to my ankles. I’d been hard almost the whole fight, and after a quick squeeze to make sure I was ready Jo started sucking my cock, her lips slowly sliding up and down my shaft as her hips worked her pussy over Harley’s face. I suppose the blonde wasn’t having a very good time as her nose might’ve been broken and was now getting jammed down by Jo’s crotch, but I’m sure she had something just as nasty planned for us if she won; she’d took her chances and lost, and if nothing else, maybe this would dissuade her from spoiling any more movies.

Jo wrapped her arms around my hips, working me over slowly; I realized she was going to try and make me cum when she did, and she had more endurance than me, even when her left hand dropped off my hips to start teasing her clit. Her lips slid back and forth with so much force and so little speed I had to fight down a powerful urge to thrust into her mouth. 

Instead, I ran my fingers through her hair; Jo loves this, and she rewarded me with a little extra treat, running her tongue over my tip. Even with her deliberate pace, she got me up to the edge pretty quick, then kept me dancing on it as she worked on getting herself off. I could hear her starting to moan louder around my cock in her mouth as she closed in on her climax, clenching my stomach to hold out as she hit her peak. 

By the time she had come down from her climax I was ready to burst, and she finished me quick, sliding back until just my tip was in her mouth, her right hand flying up and down my shaft. I held on to her as I came, my wife sucking down my sperm. She let my cock flop out of her mouth as I took a few steps back, totally spent.

Jo climbed off Harley, sliding down the blonde’s body until they were face to face, then spat my cum onto her beaten opponent’s lips and cheeks. Harley was too far gone to even react, her slack face coated in my wife’s juices and my jizz.

“How’s that, huh?” Jo yelled in Harley’s face. “What do you have to say now, bitch?” She waved me over without looking, sneering down at her beaten opponent. “Check her oil, hon.” I knelt between Harley’s legs, easing her big thighs apart and slipping a finger in easily.

“Wow, she’s pretty wet.” I didn’t know if it was the humiliation of losing the fight or Jo writhing on her face, but she was practically dripping.

“Oh, really,” Jo cackled. She gave Harley a light slap, just enough to make sure she was paying close attention. “So did you like getting your ass kicked by Black Widow, or did you like the part where I fucked your face while sucking off my man?”

“Yes,” Harley mumbled.

“Hmm, okay.” Jo climbed off her, grabbing Harley’s pigtails and roughly yanking the bigger woman up to her knees. 

“Please,” Harley started begging, staring at the ground. I winced as Jo slapped her across the face, smacking spit out of the blonde’s mouth and cum off her face: “Fucking look at me when I’m talking to you!”

“Please,” Harley tried again, her voice shaking. I could see tears in her eyes as she looked up at my triumphant wife. “Please - you won. Don’t do anything else to me.”

“Oh, I won’t,” Jo cackled. “You’re gonna do it to yourself.”

“What…?”

“Start fingering that fat pussy,” Jo hissed. “We’re all gonna watch you do yourself.”

Harley’s hands went between her legs; I could see just enough to guess she was pumping herself with one set of fingers while the other teased her clit. Jo cupped her hands under Harley’s chin, forcing the blonde to look up into her face as she masterbated. Jo started egging her on with taunts and threats:

“That’s right, fucking loser. Gonna cum looking up at the goddess who beat you down. Come on, aren’t you there yet? I know a slut like you won’t take long! Well?”

“Almost,” Harley gasped. “Almost-”

“Hurry up! Fucking finish before I fall asleep!” 

“I’m gonna- I’m- ooooooh-” the blonde’s eyes squeezed shut as she got there, her chest heaving as she howled in pleasure; Jo’s eyes bored into her as Harley’s entire body shook, then started going limp. My wife released her and Harley sank to the dirty concrete, laying on her side, panting. 

Jo rolled Harley onto her back, sat down on her stomach, and locked her hands around her victim’s neck. Harley came back to life for a second, her limbs flailing wildly; she managed one ineffective slap at Jo’s arms before the fight was literally choked out of her, her eyes rolling back in her head. Her tongue flopped out of her mouth in a torrent of drool, her body twitching uncontrollably, before she finally lay still, unconscious.

“Whew!” Jo exclaimed happily as she climbed off the blonde. “Get her clothes.” I collected Harley’s discarded clothing, including her socks and shoes, as Jo put her catsuit back on. “Think we’ll take those home to remember this by.” She walked up to me, a dazzling smile of victory on her face. “Well, what did you think? We missed the movie, but that was a pretty good show, huh?” I nodded; I wouldn’t be forgetting this any time soon. “I hope you still got some in here for me,” she purred, grabbing my balls. I nodded again and we left the alley for the long drive home and a very interesting afternoon.

Sierra Jean Smith, Get Your Butt Down Here Now! (2/2)

After my shower, I wandered downstairs; with the glow of beating up my mom and riding her face to an orgasm fading, it left behind a profound awkwardness at what I’d done. By the time I was dried off, had combed my hair and gotten dressed in a tank top and pajama shorts, Mom had gotten cleaned up, and I heard her making lunch in the kitchen.

“Hi, mom,” I started as I came in. She turned around to glance at me, a blank expression on her face. I guess she’d given up going to work today; she was in a T-shirt and light yoga pants. “Uh, so… do you want to talk about what happened?”

“After lunch,” Mom barked, slamming down a plate with a PB&J in front of me. She stared at me until I sat down, then took a seat herself across from me, starting in on her own sandwich. We ate in awkward silence for a minute before she mercifully picked up the newspaper and started reading it, leaving me not sure where to look as I choked my lunch down as quickly as possible. After we’d both finished she put the newspaper down and stared at me over the table.

“Well, you beat me. I guess you really aren’t a little girl any more.”

“Thanks.”

“And that means I don’t have to go easy on you next time.”

“Excuse me?” I laughed in disbelief. “Are you trying to say you went easy on me?”

“Of course I did. You’re my little girl. Were my little girl,” she corrected herself. “Now I’m going to go all out in the rematch.”

“Rematch?”

“Sierra,” she stood, planting her palms on the table, staring down at me. “You didn’t think I’d let it end like that, did you? It’s time for round two.”

“Right now?” My mind was racing. The punishment she’d inflicted on my nipples was feeling a lot better after the shower, and my hangover had receded; my jaw and belly were a little sore where she’d hit me, but I actually felt pretty good-

“Yes, let’s go,” and just like that she was out the door into the backyard. I got up and followed her, my heart pounding.

We faced off in the grass again; parts of it were still disturbed by the earlier fight, and the clothing we’d ripped off each other was littered around the yard. This was quickly added to as Mom began calmly stripping down, peeling off her T-shirt to reveal she hadn’t bothered with a bra, then stepping out of her yoga pants and underwear bottoms. With a mental shrug I followed suit - it was late morning/early afternoon now and heating up, and the slight breeze felt nice on my naked skin. 

Mom raised her fists in front of her face; I followed suit and we squared off, the fight starting as she lunged in at me with a low left aimed at my belly. For some reason I thought this was a feint and waited patiently for her real attack, only realizing this was it as her fist sank into my lower stomach. I gasped, frozen, and Mom smashed a followup right into my jaw, laying me out on the grass. 

“Oh, you’re not even going to fight back?” Mom taunted me, coming around to my front and laying a vicious kick into my belly, the force rolling me over on my back. She went to stomp on my stomach, but I barely managed to log roll out of the way. I came up to my feet as mom ran in with a wild kick at my head; I ducked away, leaving mom to stop and rebalance herself, giving me enough time to get up and get my guard back up.

Mom attacked again, aiming at the same target, coming in behind a long, low right; I stepped to the side and kicked her in the stomach, relishing my mother’s cry of pain as the top of my foot smashed into her belly, sending her back to land in the grass with a moan. I stood over her, hands on hips, glaring at her as she rubbed her stomach.

“This is you not taking it easy on me, huh? I’d hate to see-” 

From her back, my mother tried to kick me in the crotch; I just managed to jump back in time, barely avoiding the blow. I tripped over mom’s other leg, stumbling back a few steps but managing to stay on my feet, which unfortunately gave Mom enough time to get up.

As we squared off, Mom came in on me quick, aiming another crotch kick at me; I turned to the side and let her foot swing past me, then threw my best right into her stomach. She gasped, leaning forward and resting against me; I gave her another right in the breadbasket, knocking the wind out of her.

My mother’s legs buckled and she slowly slid down my body until she was on her knees in front of me. I knew I should have done something simple and effective like just slamming my kneecap into her mouth, but I couldn’t help myself; I grabbed her hair, pulling her head forward, rubbing her face against my crotch.

Mom braced her hands against my hips, trying to pull her head back; it was tough to keep my grip just because her hair was too short, and I took a step forwards, bending mom over backwards and closing my legs over her face. Mom ended up in a reverse headscissors, still on her knees, her back bent backwards.

Of course she still had her hands free, and before I could even start really squeezing, I felt my mother pulling my buttcheeks apart; I was so surprised at this I just stood there for a second as she started pressing one index finger against my asshole.

“Mom, what the fuck!” I screamed, shooting forward away from her, releasing my mother. I turned to face her as she rolled up to her feet. “What the fuck are you doing?!”

“I’m not taking it easy on you,” she panted, waving me on with the same finger she’d just tried to spear my asshole with. “Come on, Sierra!” 

With a growl I closed in on her, throwing a left at her jaw; she ducked under it and kept coming, launching an uppercut slap at my right breast. I tried to grab her wrist, but there was no time; I screamed at the impact, pain shooting through my chest. I crossed my arms over my bare breasts, the natural reaction, but also exactly what my mother was waiting for.

Mom got her crotch shot, stepping up to me, bracing her hands on my shoulders and lifting her knee between my legs. This hurt even more, the pain dropping me to my knees; I covered my crotch, forcing my eyes open, looking up at my mother just in time to see the knockout blow she had aimed at my jaw.

My mother’s fist exploded against my chin, hitting me so hard I did a one-eighty, flopping into the grass on my chest. At least the burning pain in my jaw took my mind a little bit off the sore ache in my crotch; she’d hurt me so badly with those last two moves I was almost missing her slapping my tits.

I was pretty dazed, and Mom pounced before I could manage to do anything, laying down above me on her chest and sliding down, locking her legs around my head from behind. We were both lying on our fronts in the grass, my mother’s thighs around my head, her crotch resting against the back of my skull. She reached down and got a death grip on my wrists, pulling my arms horizontal, straight up over my head. 

Mom started squeezing my head with her legs. She was trying to crush my skull, and it felt like she might succeed; I couldn’t breathe very well or see at all with her thighs around my face, but these concerns were nothing compared to the crushing pressure of her constricting legs. Frantic to escape, I braced my feet on the ground and started pushing forward.

I managed to shove us both across the grass, which did me absolutely no good; I was panting into my mother’s inner thighs now, having a lot of trouble getting any air into my system. My next escape attempt was rolling over; I managed to roll us both onto our backs, but this ended up not doing anything for me as I still had my head and arms trapped. 

I sat up, but this didn’t break mom’s hold; she hung off me, pulling my arms straight back. I tried to think of what to do next, but nothing came to mind; between my difficulty breathing and the now skull-splitting agony of mom’s scissors, she had me beat. I collapsed on my side, blood pounding in my ears as I started passing out.

I don’t know how long this took - Mom’s legs must have been incredibly sore at this point, but she kept up a hellacious pressure, squeezing me into submission. It felt like it took a long time for her to finish me like this, but it might have just been a few minutes. The last thing I remember before going all the way under was my bladder releasing as I peed in the grass; it was a small mercy that I was so far gone I barely noticed, the embarrassment smothered deep below the darkness washing over me.

The next thing I remember is laying on my back, my mother slapping my face back and forth, screaming my name.

“What!” I gasped, jolting awake. “Mom, what - ow!” I squealed as she unleashed another slap. “I’m awake, stop it!”

“Oh,” Mom paused, her hand still held up for the backhand. “You know, you watered the lawn back there.”

“Shut up,” I moaned.  I tried to push her off, but I was still weak, barely able to raise my arms. 

“Sierra, what do you think you’re doing?” My mother stared down at me as I failed to shift her off me. My strength was coming back quickly, but I still couldn’t quite move her. “Sierra! Stop that right now. You’ve lost-”

I managed to unseat her, tossing her off me to the right; she went tumbling awkwardly, surprised I’d been able to move her, but she recovered quickly and rolled to her feet. I got up as well, but her knocking me out had really messed me up; the horizon swung crazily as I staggered up, and I almost fell right back down.

“Sierra,” Mom started. “I really think you should just lay down and let me sit on your face now. Mommy doesn’t want to have to hurt you any more, but she will,” she hissed, her voice low and threatening as she closed up with me.

“I’m not going to go easy on you,” I meant to bark back threateningly. It came out as a weak, rasping moan, and Mom stopped to roll her eyes before coming in on me, easily smacking my clumsy, clubbing blow aside and smashing her fist into my stomach.

I gasped, grabbing her shoulders to stay vertical. Mom went around behind me, reaching around my body and cupping my tits. I was too tired to fight back and leaned back against her, moaning as she gently kneaded my breasts, then started teasing my nipples with her fingertips. 

“I thought you weren’t going to go easy on me?” my opponent scolded. “What do you call this? You’re not even trying.”

“Just catching my breath,” I panted as she started treating me a little rougher, giving my nipples a hard tweak. 

My already muddled mind was flooding with pleasure, and I knew I had to make my move now, shooting my elbow backwards. I almost nailed Mom, but her body was so close to mine I couldn’t get at her stomach, and my elbow kind of slid off her side.

Mom switched grips lightning quick, pulling her right hand off me, her left grabbing my left wrist and applying a strong hammerlock. I yelled at the pain as she wrenched my wrist so far up my back I thought she might dislocate my shoulder. Looking back I guess this was payback for using this move on her when I’d beaten her in our first fight; at the time I failed to appreciate the irony, my animal instincts only recognizing the danger of her being able to hold me immobile. 

I started struggling frantically, aiming up another elbow strike; this one completely whiffed, but it at least prompted my mother to change position as she hooked her left leg over my head and pressed down; she now had me held there completely helpless. She waited a beat to see if I was going to try and get out, but I didn’t know how to even start. Satisfied she had me exactly where she wanted, with her free hand she reached around my body and started rubbing my pussy.

“Sierra, you’re dripping wet,” my mother informed me coldly.

“No I’m not,” I lied stupidly (like she couldn’t tell). 

“I can’t believe you’re making me do this,” Mom hissed. “You couldn’t have just stayed down after I knocked you out? Why does it always have to be difficult with you, Sierra?” I didn’t know what to say to this; normally we’d get into an argument when she started scolding me like this and I’d be yelling back at her, but normally she didn’t have me bent over in the backyard fingering me and for once I didn’t have anything to say, just moaning helplessly as she worked her will on me.

It dawned on me that I had my right hand free; I grabbed my mother’s right wrist, but I was so weak I couldn’t pull her fingers out of my pussy. I’d never felt more pathetic and embarrassed as I failed to stop my mother from pleasuring me with her hand. I took a deep breath, biting down a sob of helpless humiliation, then tried again with a grunt of effort. 

I still couldn’t get her hand away, but I managed to at least disrupt her fingering. I didn’t have time to celebrate even this tiny victory as mom simply switched grips and started teasing my clit with her index finger and thumb. 

That was it; my last attempt had failed, and I didn’t have anything left. I surrendered, just standing there, bent over, my left arm hiked up my back, my mother’s leg resting on my head, holding on to her wrist as she had her way with me. 

My climax built slowly, all the more powerful when it came over me; a deep howl of pleasure started building inside of me, bursting forth when my mother pushed me over the edge, my entire body shaking, a strong tingle started buzzing in my brain until there was nothing else, and I vaguely heard myself screaming as I rode my peak.

By the time I collapsed on my face in the gass, I was completely finished. My mother rolled me over on my back, standing over me and looking down at me, her head tilted as she took me in. I was a mess, dirt and grass stuck to my skin with sweat, my face and chest flushed, panting raggedy, trying to cover my eyes from the strong sun beating down on us.

“Well, Sierra? Are you ready to give up now?”

“Yes!” I yelled desperately. “You won, okay?”

“All right, get over my knee.”

“What?” I gasped tiredly. “Please-”

“Sierra.” Her voice brooked no argument. “Get over my knee - now.”

With a tired moan I sat up, my mother watching pitilessly as I stood up. She extended her knee and I took my position over it, knowing what was coming next, sticking my butt up in the air and bracing myself as best I could as she started spanking me.

I held on for a little bit, forcing down yelps as she set about working me over, but the defeat and humiliating climax she’d inflicted on me had drained all my toughness; soon I was squealing and sobbing like a little girl again, fruitlessly begging her to stop as she punished me, mechanically spanking my ass beet red. 

By the time she flipped me off her knee I was ready to do anything she commanded, but all she wanted me to do was lay there; she straddled my head, facing my feet, slowly lowering herself down, the sun blocked out as she pressed her pussy against my mouth.

She started riding my face heavily, her scent filling my nostrils as she pressed her hips down, rocking back and forth. I was too beat to even raise my arms, laying beaten under her as she had her way with me. 

My victorious mother reached down to steady herself, grabbing my breasts and holding on; at first this felt kind of nice, but as she got closer, she started squeezing; her hips began to move faster, pushing down harder as I writhed under her in the grass.

Finally, it was over; she finished, cumming hard on my face, her grip relaxing; for a moment she stayed on top of me, panting in her afterglow, before rolling off me to the side. We lay side by side in the grass for a moment, both of us panting; Mom recovered first, of course, sitting up with a happy sigh.

Mom stood up and helped me to my feet; she had to help me into the shower, got me cleaned up, and then put me to bed, bringing me dinner in one of the bouts between my naps. The next day I got up early enough to have breakfast with mom; we didn’t say anything about the fight, but that was the last time I mouthed off for quite a while

Sierra Jean Smith, Get Your Butt Down Here Now!

“Sierra Jean Smith!” my mom screamed at my bedroom window from the back yard. “Get your butt down here now!”

“Fuck,” I mumbled, rolling over and looking at my alarm clock: 8:08 AM. I’d been up all night drinking; my head was pounding and my mouth felt like a toilet. I wanted to hop in the shower, brush my teeth, and have breakfast (maybe with a little hair of the dog in my OJ), but I knew from the tone of my mother’s voice that if I wasn’t downstairs in fifteen seconds she’d be up here pulling me out of bed. 

I rolled out of bed, relieved that I had at least managed to change into my ancient, faded Lilo & Stitch nightshirt and plain white underwear bottoms without throwing up anywhere before passing out last night. I padded downstairs with a yawn, wondering why mom was even still here; she should’ve left for work by now. I was home for summer break from college, and it was already so warm I didn’t bother with a bra or shoes as I walked out into the backyard where mom’s white Altima was parked; we were so far from the neighbors you could kill someone back here without anybody noticing, which come to think of it I hoped wasn’t about to happen to me. 

Mom was waiting for me, dressed for work in a dark blue skirt suit and heels, her arms crossed angrily across her chest, her foot impatiently tapping the grass.

“Do you want to tell me what this is?” she gestured at her car.

“Uh… your Altima.”

“Don’t be a smart mouth. I’m talking about this!” She pointed inside the open rear passenger door, and my heart sank as I realized I’d missed quite a bit of empty liquor bottles during my drunken attempt to clean the car out last night. Not only were there several empties on the floor, but a couple had spilled on the seats; the disgusting smell of old, stale booze wafted over me as I stepped in for a closer look.

“Oops,” I muttered.

“‘Ooops’? ‘Oops’?” Mom seethed. “I hope you have more to say for yourself than that!”

“Mom-”

“And you smell like a cheap liquor store!” she yelled. “First, you’re going to clean this up. Then, you’re going to pay for the interior to be detailed. Then I’m going to put you over my knee-”

“Mom, can you stop yelling?” My head was pounding, and she’d walked right up to me and was hollering in my face. 

“I’m not yelling!” she screamed. “Now let’s review! One -” she started counting off on her fingers - “underage drinking-”

“By a year! Barely!”

“Keep going,” she said, her voice now eerily quiet. “Go ahead, Sierra. Say one more thing. Go ahead.” 

I took a deep breath, weighing my options. Cleaning the car would be easy, I could have that knocked out in a few minutes. But I couldn’t really afford to pay for the detailing; I could barely afford food and books. I guessed I could get a part time job. The spanking… I knew that would be a bad one; I’d have to get a life preserver or something to sit on.

Or I could say no. There’d be a fight, that was for sure. The last time we’d full on fought was when I was 15 and didn’t want to eat the meatloaf she’d made; I had lost that one pretty bad, but that was when I’d been five years younger and four inches shorter.  

I sized us both up quickly. I had Mom’s red hair and hazel eyes, and we were both about 5’8” (I was maybe a quarter inch taller than her), but that’s where the similarities ended; Mom keeps her hair in a professional reverse bob, down to her jaw in front and short in the back, while mine is long and normally loose halfway down my back, this morning twisted into a huge snarl that was going to take a long shower and a lot of combing to fix. 

Mom’s face is long, with sharp features, thin lips and a pointy little chin; I have a rounder face with softer features and fuller lips. Mom is slim, with small, high breasts, narrow shoulders and hips, and thin limbs - not that she didn’t have a ropey strength I’d experienced first hand. I’m a bit wider - broader shoulders and hips, a bigger butt, and full C-cup breasts and thicker limbs.

“Well?” Mom barked. “What’s it going to be, Sierra?”

“I’m not going to pay for -”

I didn’t get any further before mom lunged, unleashing a furious slap, turning my head as her hand smacked into my cheek. This was just the opening move, as before the gasp had finished leaving my mouth her fist slammed into my tummy. 

I leaned forward against my mother with a moan; she pushed me back, her left hand on my shoulder, her face twisting into an angry snarl as she busted me in the jaw with her right hand. I went down on the grass, staring up at the bright morning sky.

Mom came around to my right side, lifting her leg up; I realized she was about to stomp on my stomach with the heel of her shoe. I rolled out of the way with a yelp, getting up to my feet as quickly as I could; I guess I was still a little winded from my mother’s assault as she was on me before I finished standing.

Mom grabbed my shirt and pulled; with a scream she managed to rip it straight down the middle and I tumbled backwards into a sloppy somersault, coming up to my feet, staring at my mother holding the two halves of my shirt. 

More than getting my face slapped, more than the gut punch, for some reason her ripping my shirt really set me off; I didn’t even notice I was topless as I charged my mother with a scream. She tried to step out of the way, too slow; I grabbed her suit jacket, pulling it off her roughly.

“I’m going to get your shirt!” I bellowed, grabbing her white sleeveless undershirt and pulling. It came apart with a low, loud, and intensely satisfying riiiiiiipppppp, leaving my mother in just her plain black bra from the waist up. Mom stepped back, reached behind herself, unhooked her bra, then threw it in my face. It landed on top of my head, and I stood there stunned as my opponent came in charging behind it, lifting her kneecap into my belly.

I went down to my knees, gasping and holding my stomach, then collapsed over on my side, wheezing. Mom, full of compassion, went around behind me and started kicking me in the back with the pointed toe of her shoe as I writhed in the grass, trying to catch my breath.

After taking a half dozen extremely painful kicks, I was able to catch enough breath to roll over onto my chest and get up on all fours, but before I could do anything else my mother grabbed the bra off my head, wrapped it around my neck, and pulled.

I gagged as my mother’s bra constricted my windpipe; I tried to get a few fingers between my neck and the material, but she already had it cinched in good, grunting with effort as she choked me.

“C’mon, Sierra, go to sleep,” my mother hissed. “That’s all you want to do, isn’t it? Drink and sleep all day?” 

Desperate, I got my feet planted underneath me and stood up. Mom rode this out, but now I was able to slam my elbow back into her stomach, and she backed off, the bra falling loose, slipping down to the grass as I backed up and turned to face my opponent.

I shook my head as we squared off; so far my mother was kicking my ass, and I didn’t know if I could survive her getting the upper hand on me again, my head light from the lack of oxygen, my neck burning where she’d dug her bra into my neck. 

But maybe I could trick her. I played up my heavy breathing, wheezing so hard my head nodded up and down with each breath, keeping my right hand up in front of me, my left hand rubbing my neck. Mom smirked just before she attacked, faking a low right kick at my legs, then unleashing a left kick at my stomach.

I moved to the side, her foot hitting nothing but air. In return I aimed my best right hand at my mother’s jaw. Her hands were hopelessly out of position to try and block this, but she tried to duck it; I moved faster than she anticipated, and all she ended up doing was moving her head so that my fist smashed into her nose.

I laid my mother out flat as she landed on her back in the grass with a moan, covering her face with her hands; I could see blood welling between her fingers. I quickly grabbed her shoes, pulling them off before she knew what was happening; I didn’t want to take another kick from them.

The left one I tossed away, but I held on to the right; this could be a good weapon. I turned to mom as she sat up, bringing the shoe down and smashing the pointed heel down on top of her head.

My mother fell backward, her eyes rolling back in her head, her mouth flopping open as she came to rest in the grass. I’d hitten her so hard I’d broken the heel, and I tossed this shoe away as well, taking the opportunity to finish stripping my opponent, getting her skirt and underwear off with one pull, leaving her in just a now dirt-stained set of white ankle socks. 

I rolled her over, pulling her up on my knee, relishing turning the tables as I started spanking her small, pale butt. This brought mom around, and she started squirming; I got a hammerlock on with my free hand, holding her in place as I turned her ass a bright, angry red.

“Sierra Jean Smith!” Mom squealed. “You let me go right now!” 

“Sure, Mom,” I stopped for a second. “You just apologize and kiss my butt.”

“Never - aah!” Mom yelled as I gave her butt another slap. “You are in so much trouble!”

“Now that sounds like a woman who wants to keep getting spanked!” I yelled. I gave her a little bit more; by this point my hand was getting sore from slapping her ass. 

By the time I was finished and rolled my mother off my knee, she was steaming mad, hopping to her feet, raising her fists with a snarl. We circled for a moment, each of us watching the other carefully.

“Sierra,” Mom snarled. “Why are your nipples hard?”

“What?” I realized with a start she was right; I could have cut glass with them. “Well, I guess I enjoyed kicking your ass-” 

I’d put a little too much effort into my smart reply when I should have been watching Mom’s hands, and she darted in, smashing her right fist into my jaw. She hit me so hard I turned with the blow, landing on my left side with a grunt in the grass. 

Mom went around to my front and started laying kicks into my belly and tits; at least she didn’t have her shoes on any more, but this still hurt plenty bad, and I curled up into a ball, trying not to sob as my sneering mother slammed her foot into me over and over.

“What now, miss smart mouth?” she yelled down at me. “Nothing clever to say now? Maybe it’s time for your spanking!” She straddled me, rolling me onto my chest. “But first let’s get these off!” She yanked my underwear down, leaving me without a stitch on; this at least gave me enough time to scoot out from under her legs, getting to my feet and getting my fists up, panting, dirt stuck to my skin by sweat.

“Hey, Mom,” I gasped as we faced off naked. “Looks like your nips are pretty hard, too.” 

“Ugh,” Mom sighed, apparently hoping I wasn’t going to notice. Out of everything, this seemed like the only thing that had her embarrassed, and I decided to press, approaching her slowly, my arms wide.

“C’mon, give me a hug. We can rub them together.”

“Sierra, don’t be disgusting!” she barked, backing up a step. I followed, feeling my mouth twist into a leer. I watched her for a punch, but she seemed almost paralyzed by the awkwardness, unable to do anything but back up. I shifted position, backing her up into the car, giving her nowhere to run.

“Ooh, Mom,” I purred as I had her right where I wanted her. “Come on, give your little girl a hug!” I lunged, grabbing for her; she surprised me by coming forward, grabbing my nipples and twisting like she was trying to rip them off. 

I howled in agony, my hands gripping her wrists weakly, the pain shooting out of my chest sapping my strength. A sob slipped out of my mouth as I failed to move my mother’s punishing hands off her targets, and I sank down to my knees, my merciless opponent coming with me until we were both kneeling in the grass. 

Pain was fogging my thoughts, but even through the haze of agony it occurred to me that my hands were useless just pulling on mom’s wrists; I changed to my own nipple grip, but my hands were already shaking with weakness, and I didn’t manage much more than caressing her tits as she continued squeezing the life out of me. I soon gave up even this pathetic attack, leaning forward, resting my head on my mother’s shoulder, bawling helplessly.

Mom had no mercy; I think my loud crying in her ear just got on her nerves. For a blessed second I felt relief as her hands came over my tits, but it was only for her left hand to push on my shoulders, moving me back enough for the following uppercut, her right fist coming up and smashing into my jaw.

I flew backwards and landed on the grass, kind of wishing I’d taken that spanking and summer job now. My mother’s shadow fell over me as she stood up, staring down at me, her eyes wide, her mouth hanging open as she panted.

“You had your chance,” she told me, sitting down on my tummy. “You had your chance!” She grabbed a handful of my hair with her left hand, then slapped my face with her right; the pain focused my mind, although not quick enough for me to do anything about the following slap she landed.

Mom shifted her weight down my body a little, sitting on my lower belly; she drew her hand back for another slap, this one aimed at my chest, and this one I knew I had to stop - I could only imagine the pain she’d be able to deliver if she was able to smash her hand into my sore boobs. 

I bucked up, surprising my mother, who must’ve thought I was beyond fighting back; she was unseated with a yelp, falling off me on the right side. I rolled up to my feet, my opponent overcoming her surprise quickly, rising to meet me with her hands up.

Her target seemed obvious, but she did at least try to mask it, faking some belly hits as we closed; I waited, betting she was going after my chest, and sure enough she did, committing to a knife-edge chop at my breasts. I grabbed her right wrist, spinning behind her and yanking her arm up behind her back in my best hammerlock. Mom screamed, her left hand resting on her right shoulder as I worked the hold.

“How’s this feel, Mom?” I sneered. She tried to shoot her elbow back into my midsection, but I could see her and she couldn’t see me; it was easy to shift out of the way as she viciously elbowed the empty air. 

“Oh, nice shot!” I giggled. I thought about punctuating this by swatting her rump - no doubt she’d make quite an entertaining sound when my hand hit her red, sore ass - but as fun as it would be to humiliate her some more, I wanted to finish her off now; it was true I had her right where I wanted her, but given half the chance I didn’t doubt she could turn the momentum back in her favor, and that might be all she’d need to finish me. No, it was time to end her.

I pressed myself against her, reaching around her body, quickly cupping her right breast, teasing her nipple; Mom gasped, her hand wrapping around my wrist, but not even attempting to pull it away from her chest, not even trying to slow my hand down as it slid slowly down her body between her legs.

“Sierra,” my mother gasped as I used my middle and index fingers to spread her pussy wide. “Please, don’t do this. Please…”

“Ahh, little late to beg now, isn’t it, Mom?” I hissed in her ear. Despite her pleading, she hadn’t closed her legs, and I moved to finish her, feeling her jolt as I slipped my middle finger into her pussy.

Mom bent over a little bit, rubbing her ass against my crotch; I think this was just a reflex, and it didn’t really make it any harder to work as I fingered my mother. I made sure to keep my hammerlock on her tight, but she’d given up and accepted that this was happening, moaning like a whore as I worked her over. As she got closer and closer, I switched from pumping my finger in and out to a curled, come-here motion; this really drove her wild, my mother howling with pleasure as I pushed her over the edge.

“C’mon, Mom, cum for your little girl,” I taunted her, having to yell over her cries of passion. I almost added “I want to hear it!”, but anybody within two miles was probably hearing it. In fact, I suspected she might be overdoing it a little, faking an orgasm to get me to let go, so I kept fingering her past the point where her body convulsed, past the point her vocalization faded down to a gentle mewling, past the point where her legs buckled.

I let her fall out of my grip, my defeated mother flopping on the grass in front of me. I rolled her over, seeing tired fear on her face for the first time. I reached back for a slap, laughing as she flinched pathetically.

“Sierra,” she gasped. “No more, please.” 

“Oh, there’s a little more,” I leered down at her, sliding up until my crotch was directly over her face. “Just a little more, Mom.” I swung around to face her feet, then lowered my pussy onto her mouth. I doubted she was going to try and lean up and start licking me, but I didn’t give her the chance; I wanted to both get off and drive home who’d won, and I made sure my mother got the message as I started aggressively riding her face.

I latched on to her tits as I rode, squeezing them roughly as I worked my pussy over her mouth. I could feel her yelling, which just added a pleasant vibrating sensation. For a little bit I thought about taking my time, really drawing out my mother’s humiliation as her victorious daughter fucked her face, but this felt so nice that thought went out the window as the need to finish spread through my body. 

As I climaxed I held on to mom’s boobs, squeezing them probably harder than I intended, my hips pushing down hard into her head; I didn’t care, in the grip of a powerful climax that left me so drained I flopped off her when I was finished, ready to go to sleep.

We lay there in the grass gasping for a little bit; Mom got up first, standing unsteadily, her breathing ragged, her hair now almost as messy as mine, her skin caked in dirt, sweat, and grass. 

I don’t think I looked much better, but I had the glow of victory. I watched Mom totter into the house, taking another minute to catch my breath before following her and finally heading for that long hot shower.