The Best Day Ever

For a woman as cheerful and friendly as Bubbles had demonstrated herself to be, she was surprisingly adept at instilling fear in the hearts of other women. No small amount of credit owed to her size and strength, but that ominous chuckle sent shivers down Faheema's spine, even freezing her struggle for a brief second as Bubbles captured her attention. In another life, this woman could have reigned as a warlord.

Her rapture ended quickly, as the Virgin Killer took her from heaven to hell in mere moments, crushing her ribs with incredible force. The Nubian warrior growled and flinched in her captor's grasp as the vice tightened, thrashing and struggling but unable to break the lock through strength alone. Every attempt to escape brought her further pain, as the added grinding against her opponent's muscles exacerbated the agony she felt, to the point of feeling that her bones might bow from the stress.

Occasionally, the stronger woman would let up, and a looser hold on her head allowed Faheema to look up and get a few ragged breaths, panting to restore her stamina as she gazed into the eyes of her tormentor, and heard her demand. Faheema's glare was one of defiance, but her determination not to submit to the Virgin Killer's desire didn't survive the sudden flexing of those mighty thighs.

“Aaaahahaha!” Faheema bellowed as sharp pain wracked her body, continuing to yell and scream intermittently as the strength flowing through Bubbles' legs rose and fell. She wasn't struggling now, trying to minimize the damage to her muscles as stabbing pain sliced through them like a storm of razor blades. If the Nubian didn't want to be broken right here, she needed an escape plan fast, but what options did she really have? Getting a rope break briefly tempted her, but she realized with despair that she had just recently invoked the lack of any rope breaks to armbar Bubbles over the ring ropes, her own actions now coming back to haunt her!

In a moment of desperation, Faheema drew on one of her most humiliating survival instincts; with no other options, she had to appease the woman who had her trapped. Groveling and begging for mercy was the most desperate last resort the Nubian could turn to in a bind, but it probably helped her that Bubbles was a benevolent figure in her life now, even when she was asserting her dominance like this.

“Mmnh!” Faheema whimpered, writhing in Bubbles' arms as she tipped her head back down, diving into her opponent's cleavage. Puckering her lips, Faheema started lathering the center of her chest with kisses, massaging that often neglected space between the breasts. With Bubbles' heart thumping against her face, Faheema would have a good indicator of whether or not her appeal to serving the mightier woman was having any effect. Turning her face from side to side, she started teasing the sides of her opponent's breasts as well, alternating between hungry kisses and lapping with her tongue at the soft flesh. Biting was also an option if Faheema decided to put away the carrot in favor of the stick, but she was very reluctant to resort to tit biting against a woman that she actually liked and respected. Besides, her opponent was so sweaty, and her tits so massive, that getting a good grip with her teeth would've been easier said than done.

Throughout all of this, Mariah was left to watch at leisure. Faheema had completely lost track of how long she and Bubbles had been at it. Any moment now, she was going to have free reign to join in as she saw fit.

God, Faheema was strong. While she was hardly the first woman Bubbles had crushed in her grasp, it was rare for her to have a body this strong and this packed with muscle at this size. The woman wasn’t short, but the size difference was a marked one between them, and she could feel all those smaller muscles fighting for survival between her own. Brimming with power, bursting with it. She was like a giant stress ball mean for Bubbles entire body, and she felt like she could’ve squeezed and smothered this woman for hours. She wouldn’t have gotten tired of it, and she doubted Faheema would, either.

She let out a long, ecstatic sigh as the nubile Nubian shrieked into her flesh, making sure to press her deep against her busom as she did so the sound could reverberate through her body. They were so tight, so close now, that, if it weren’t for the difference in skin, it would’ve been legitimately hard to tell where one of them ended and the other began. Like Bubbles was an amoeba, drawing her prey deeper and deeper into her own body.

It made for a rare sight, and one that wasn’t going unappreciated. Mariah had been taking the bulk of her time to recover, but as her five minute exile from the ring drew to a close, she found herself longing to get back in. To join her wife in the feast. She stood there at ringside, wringing her hands on the ropes and licking her lips.

It was quite a sight to see, but there was nothing like being in there, especially as Faheema switched tactics. Bubbles quirked an eyebrow as her foe switched tactics, moving from the serious to the sensual and showering her breasts with affection. The woman had an affinity for lovemaking, and it was on full display, here. An obvious attempt to butter Bubbles into lessening her sentence, and, well...it worked. Pleasure was the Virgin Killer’s currency.

She didn’t let up all the way, but she relaxed the hold, going down to a quarter of her brutal strength so that Faheema could do more of what pleased her. She moaned, she cooed, she ground their hips together and savored every contact, letting herself get lost in the bliss.

So lost, in fact, that she scarcely noticed her wife entering the ring. The five minutes was up, now, and Mariah slipped through right on cue. She walked - no, prowled towards them, with a lewd, knowing smirk on her face and her eyes set squarely on Faheema. She didn’t say anything, and she didn’t need to.

Faheema wasn't planning to give herself up to the Burste couple's domination, at least not yet. All of them could handle a little more pain before they closed the day out with pleasure, though Faheema expected to endure the brunt of any discomfort as she faced both women as a team. Strong women deserved a strong fight, and the Nubian wouldn't disrespect either of them by giving less than her full effort.

For now, though, pain would have to wait, because Faheema was still helpless in the Virgin Killer's clutches. It wounded her pride to be kept under control with such a simple hold, but that was the leverage a former bodybuilder could count on, the ability to turn her very body into an inescapable prison. In an official match, Faheema may have been able to ride this out even without a rope break; endurance was her greatest asset. Under the challenging rules she had consented to, however, she was fighting against the clock as much as her opponent. Mariah was soon to be upon them, and if she entered the fight while Faheema was already trapped, then the Nubian would never escape.

So she made the only play she could: she teased her opponent. Tempted her, lathered her breasts with affection and dared the Virgin Killer to loosen the hold so that she could do more. Faheema honored that unspoken offer, too, making no immediate bid for freedom as she lifted her head enough to migrate to the woman's increasingly firm nipples. She wasted no time in trapping the woman's left nipple between her lips, lightly suckling at it and flicking it playfully with her tongue. She moaned as she made love to that generous chest, her heart hammering as she grew excited.

She moved on, kissing her way across the valley of Bubbles' bust and coming to rest with her face over the woman's other nipple. This time, she assaulted the woman much more savagely, plunging her mouth down and battering the areola and nipple with a series of loud, open-mouthed kisses, wondering which approach her captor would favor. Her lower half was gyrating, grinding hard against the Virgin Killer's waist, and using that vigorous motion to mask the movement of her right arm as she twisted it, slowly but surely pulling it free from the body scissor that held it to her side. As soon as she wrenched that arm free, she would pull her head up to make eye contact with Bubbles, her service coming to an abrupt end.

“Break's over, my love,” Faheema's husky voice came, preempting a sharp impact to the Virgin Killer's side as the Nubian battered her ribcage with a stiff punch! She swung her fist back and forth, hammering the woman's exposed side as hard as she could, fighting furiously for an escape that might see her gaining one final chance to defy Bubbles and her wife.

Even if Faheema escaped, however, her plan had one flaw: she hadn't kept track of Mariah. With her hearing compromised by the noise of her own passionate lovemaking, Faheema's sharp ears didn't catch the soft pat of Mariah's feet on the canvas, and her stealthy approach kept her just out of Faheema's peripheral vision, as well. Mariah would have the drop on Faheema as she pulled free and started getting up, but it wouldn't last as the Nubian started taking stock of her surroundings.

Bubbles sighed, long and lewd, as Faheema continued her work, going about the loving task of giving her breasts the attention the deserved. It was uncommon for her to get this sort of treatment - her breasts were the obvious port of call to anyone fucking her, the place where they spent most of their time, centered their attention. And she didn’t mind it, not one bit - she didn’t spend so much time drawing attention to her tits so they wouldn’t be sucked on. But, in her experience, the list of women who knew how to truly make her sing was a small one. Most of her lovers were sloppy, children fumbling with a toy on Christmas Day, barely knowing what to do with it.

Mariah wasn’t in that category, though, and neither was Faheema. The Nubian went to work with the same wild lust that had defined their time together, smothering her in a pleasing avalanche. She moved from one nipple to the other, keeping Bubbles’ head swimming, and when she went to savage work on her other breast, it left the Virgin Killer’s back arching and her eyes closing. Fingers scraped at the canvas, muscles tensed, her entire was primed and ready for the treatment. Every lick, every nibble flew through her like fire.

”Goddamn, girl.” She let out a long, husky sigh. ”You are so-”

And then the ride was over. Bubbles’ eyes shot open, wide open, as Faheema spoke and changed gears in a heartbeat, throwing hard, sharp punches into her side. Strikes were always low on the list of things she took well, and this woman knew how to throw some good ones, really drilling her in the side. It left her gasping and thrashing on the canvas, wheezing in a fit and giving her the freedom she was going for.

But she wouldn’t have long to enjoy it. Not if Mariah had any say, and she damn well did.

Her sultry strut turned much less sultry when it was clear that Faheema was on the verge of escaping and leaving Bubbles in a wreck. Her wife would be okay in a moment, but until she was, Mariah needed to keep the Nubian off balance, give them time to press the advantage. She knew how to pull that off, too.

As Faheema rose, she would be greeted by a swift kick to the chest, as Mariah came around and swung her leg out wide and fast for a roundhouse kick. Strikes like this weren’t her specialty, ever, but she figured she could pull off one well enough to keep their opponent on the backfoot. For a little while, at least.

Surveying the tank of a woman lying prone in front of her, Faheema had gotten back to her feet when Mariah crept into her peripheral vision, her boot seeming as a white blur of motion as it arced towards her. The Nubian had good reflexes, but getting out of harm's way still wasn't an option for a woman as large as she was. The kick struck her across the middle chest, the side of Mariah's boot digging into one of her glistening tits.

“Ooh!” Faheema bellowed as the kick sent her stumbling backwards, catching herself on the ropes and rebounding off of them quickly. It was a lucky shot, hitting a part of Faheema's body that physical conditioning couldn't help as much as she would've liked, one that she would be feeling in the morning. Rubbing her chest vigorously, Faheema stepped forward to confront the smaller of her adversaries.

“That hurt. I may need you to attend that damaged breast later,” Faheema suggested with a mirthful grin. Her fighting spirit was as strong as ever, and if she was scared at all to be fighting two formidable women now, it wasn't showing on her face. Her body was less confident, however, the Nubian breathing heavily as she stalked towards Mariah to repay her for the surprise kick. She had pushed herself a little harder in the past five minutes than she should have, and knew that she would be too tired to escape if both women were allowed to get their hands on her at once. Regardless, if she couldn't be a predator, she would still resolve to be strong enough prey to demand that the married couple find their teamwork to take her down.

Kicking off in a short sprint as she drew close, Faheema brought one leg high and kicked straight in the direction of Mariah's face, trying to kiss the woman's cheek with a leveling big boot! As for Bubbles, the Nubian's best options had all been taken away by Mariah buying enough time to let the big woman recover and get back on her feet. She still had options, though, and as Faheema ran past the giant woman to kick her wife in the face, she tucked that same leg back in and swung it backwards next, trying to hit Bubbles in the back of her thigh, or perhaps her firm rear, with the toe of her boot. Stalling the big woman's recovery was the best she could hope for right now.

Truth be told, Bubbles never liked taking punches. She could take them, mind you, and her body was probably more adept at absorbing them than most, but they were antithetical to all she stood for as a wrestler. While she had the power to level almost anyone with her powerful blows, she would much rather slam them, squeeze them, caress them, smother them. Much more fun. Much more intimate.

So while they never hurt her too much, punches tended to dampen her mood, especially when they were good ones. And Faheema, no surprise, could throw some fairly mean ones. She drilled it in deep, mean, made it hurt, and as Bubbles sank and gasped, she knew she’d been feeling it for days.

But she’d be okay. She could get up. She even started to, before Faheema gave her a quick kick in the side and knocked her back down again, slowing her ascent with more pain to deal with. The Nubian was wily, and while she was sure she could end this quick if she got back on her feet, that would only apply if she managed to do it in the first place.

Mariah, on the other hand, had her own problem to deal with - namely, the rampaging woman closing in on her position with startling acceleration. She brought her hands up to defend and not a moment too soon. The blow hit with enough force to knock her clean off her feet and leave her staggering into the ropes.

It wasn’t a good position to be in. The worst, maybe. Mariah knew right away that her best chance, her only chance was to try and bring this fight to the ground, keep Faheema down long enough for Bubbles to make her way in, and for that she’d need to get a little drastic. Using the ropes for some added momentum, she bounced off and went low, coming at her opponent with a tackle, trying to bring her down to the mat right beside Bubbles - the exact last place she would want to be.

As soon as she felt the impact of her foot digging once into each of the Burstes, Faheema tensed for a moment, her head swiveling to glimpse each one briefly as adrenaline suffused her tiring body once more. Whenever the Nubian had been forced to fight more than one person at a time, this moment was always the most nerve-wracking. She had to decide which woman to pursue, and she needed to do it in an instant.

Bubbles was still down, and she wouldn't become a threat as quickly as Mariah, but if she was allowed to recover, one big hit might be enough to end Faheema's fight for good. Mariah was still on her feet, but it looked at a glance like she had taken that kick harder than Faheema expected. Most of the time, she would've gone straight for the opponent who was still upright, but this time was different. Bubbles was a juggernaut, and the Nubian warrior was intimidated by the prospect of letting her get back in the action, so she charged at the downed woman.

It was the wrong choice.

Faheema was nearly on top of Bubbles when Mariah intercepted her, coming out of the ring's edge like a bolt from the blue. She was still underestimating Mariah, thinking of her as the wife of a warrior rather than a warrior in her own right, a mistake that Faheema quickly regretted. Despite the size differences between the three women, Mariah was not small, and the impact of her entire weight gut-checking the Nubian at once wasn't small either!

“Uhhh!” Faheema wheezed as she was driven to the canvas with Mariah on top, waves of pain rippling up her abdomen from the body blow. If she'd had any breath to spare, she would have given Mariah her due respect then and there, but all she had to offer Mariah right now was a blistering pain in her head as she reached up with both hands and grabbed her opponent's hair, digging her fingers in deep. Yanking her head sharply to the right, Faheema pitched her body in the same direction to try and roll them both over, leaving Faheema on top. Looking down with an expression that conveyed the building urgency of her plight, Faheema dragged Mariah's head up and thrust her own forehead down, cracking their skulls together in an attempt to stun Mariah long enough for a follow up.

Slithering down the prone woman's body like a serpent, Faheema moved to coil her arms around Mariah's legs and stood up, pivoting around so that she would have her back to the rising giantess behind her. Any questions to why she would dare turn her back on such a threat were answered when Faheema threw her body backwards, her grip on Mariah's legs tight enough to launch the woman up and over the falling Nubian in a slingshot. Trying to ragdoll one opponent into another was the oldest trick in the book for wrestlers at a numbers disadvantage, and it was Faheema's intent to catapult Mariah into her recovering wife!

Bubbles was on her way up, and that meant she was vulnerable, a fact that wasn’t lost on Faheema. She had seen some glimpses of this sort of skill when they fought before, but she was getting the full picture now that she had more than one opponent to contend with. The Nubian had a hunter’s eye - quick, keen, acute. She could look at that face, see the darting eyes, and know that a dozen thoughts were whipping through her head at any given moment. It was the kind of slick reaction that Bubbles could never duplicate, always relying on her brute strength to win the day in every instance, and she had to admit to being a little jealous. Certainly not something she could pull off.

That same acuity was what gave her the insight to bear down on Bubbles now, as she was rising and most vulnerable. It was bound to get bad, and certainly would’ve, if Mariah hadn’t come pouncing in at the last moment. She was the smallest woman in the ring, but she was by no means a total lightweight, and with enough forward moment she was more than capable of crashing into Faheema and bringing her down.

”Gotcha.” Mariah had a brief, well-earned moment of triumph, almost surprised by her own success. ”Now what are you going to owowowowowowowo-”

Mariah went into a shrieking fit as Faheema grabbed hold of her hair and rolled them over, getting on top while she bucked and wiggled. Her focus was on getting free of the tight grip, and there it was misplaced - she should’ve been much more worried about the head that was coming her way, cracking their skulls together at terminal velocity.

That was more than enough to knock the sense out of Mariah. It left her limp, vulnerable, and wide open Faheema slid down her body and seized her legs. The next she knew, she was being lifted up and flung back, hurled through the air just as Bubbles was rising off her knees.

Bubbles caught her. It wasn’t easy, she was coming at her with considerable force, but the Virgin Killer opened her arms wide on reflex, stumbled back after the impact, and wrapped her arms around her wife, keeping her close. She could look down and see their opponent, too, on her back from the slingshot. It was the most open she’d been all match, but how could Bubbles take advantage of that.

She had an idea. A crazy idea, but those did tend to be the most fun. ”Sorry, babe.”

”Sorry about whaaaaaaaaaaaa-”

Mariah had no time to ask her question before the answer was given to her in the most direct way possible. Bubbles lifted her wife up, held her sideways against her chest, and proceeded to fall forward, toppling towards Faheema below with a Falling Powerslam. Trying to drop all 300 plus pounds of them right onto the Nubian and put a stop to her rebellion. It was the nuclear option - extreme, but Faheema was an extreme woman.

When Faheema had tried to imagine in advance how Bubbles and Mariah would approach their challenge, what Bubbles actually ended up doing would never, ever have struck her as a possibility. It was surprising enough to glance up from her position on the ground, and simmer with frustration at the sight of the Virgin Killer holding her wife, unharmed. She had really expected the large woman to be slower than that. The true stunner, however, was what Bubbles chose to do with that scooped up bride of hers. Bubbles Burste, the same woman who had spanked Faheema with a steel chair for daring to expose Mariah to harm during their match, was diving forward to slam the same woman down on top of her!

Faheema gasped, frozen in a state of confusion and even a little outrage as the shadow of the Burste couple's combined volume fell over her. The choice of offense was so unexpected on her part that the Nubian couldn't even find the resolve to roll away from the oncoming collision, disbelief dulling her reflexes enough for the Virgin Killer's wild plan to pay off.

The canvas rattled with the meteoric collision, the loud crash not quite drowning out the gurgle of distress that was squeezed from Faheema's lungs as hundreds of pounds compressed her chest. It felt like a buffalo had rammed her at full speed, and every bone from her collar to her waist throbbed with pain from the impact.

A weak groan trickled from Faheema's lips as she tried to move, finding herself thoroughly unable to. The powerslam hadn't taken her will to fight, she still had some energy and a desire to bounce back. The real trouble was actually escaping her predicament, as she found that the combined weight of two women at once was simply too much for her to wiggle away from. Trapped at the bottom of the warm, sweaty pile, she could barely move a muscle, and to her growing distress, the weight on her was keeping her from refilling her lungs, slowly sapping her energy further still!

“Gnk...get...off,” Faheema wheezed, twitching beneath her lustful opponents. One arm that retained some range of motion snaked up, groping blindly for something to grab, to squeeze or slap or claw at. Her fingers traced up to the largest mass of flesh they could find, the denim covering of Bubbles ass cheeks, and started fondling aimlessly. Playing with her opponent's ass wouldn't buy her freedom, but it wasn't a bad use for her free hand while she was thinking of some way, any way, to get out of this mess before the two women really got her wrapped up.

Mariah loved her wife, truly, but god, sometimes the woman just did not think more than one step ahead. Despite her best efforts to instill some sense of strategy into her, she still tended to focus on the immediate problem, coming up with basic solutions that relied on her overwhelming strength. Sometimes it worked for her, sometimes it didn’t, and sometimes there were, well, situations like this.

”God. Damn it. Bubbles.” Mariah groaned from the middle of their sensual sandwich. It wasn’t quite as bad an impact as it looked, with her wife just falling onto Faheema instead of driving her down full force, and the Nubian probably made a softer landing pad than the canvas, but still, it was far from pleasant.

”Yeah, sorry, first thing that came to mind.” Bubbles had a shy, sheepish laugh, as she wriggled on top of them. She planted her palms on the mat and pushed up, enough to take away some of the pressure, but keep Faheema pinned. ”You okay?”

Mariah grunted and stretched out, doing a quick check of her body as Faheema stirred beneath them. To Bubbles credit, her crazy plan worked well enough, squashing their opponent’s offense, at least for the moment. ”I’ll live. Just need a minute.”

Bubbles brought an arm up and let Mariah slide off, giving her space to roll to the side and take a breather. At the same time, she was fully aware of Faheema’s hand on her ass, and reached behind her back to grab that hand and keep it in place. She used her other arm to grab their foe’s wrist, trying to pin it above Faheema’s head, while she straddled that black, beautiful waist and kept it pinned.

She brought her face in close, close enough to run her tongue along Faheema’s chin and start working her way up from there. ”Just you and me for a little while.”