SS 19 Dark Match: Femke 'Golden' Brouwer vs. Bubbles Burste

To the outside eye, this might have looked something like two beasts going at in the field, wild animals vying for supremacy - and, in a way, Bubbles supposed that was precisely what it was. Femke was, without question, one of the most carnal women she’d ever come across, not counting the one she saw when she looked in the mirror. This was the way they wrestled - primal and raw, fierce and hard.

But there was some strategy, here, too, and it came down to the fine line they walked between fucking and fighting. For instance, when Bubbles landed that axe handle, she suspected that Femke would go down. And she did go down.

On her.

She yelped twice, first in surprise and second in ecstasy, as her friend’s tongue went to work, delving deep between her legs. She was no stranger to this sort of treatment, but this was the first time she’d ever experienced so soon in a match, had it done with this kind of feral intensity. The effect was immediate, making her muscles tense, her breath quicken, her eyes glaze.

But the danger was real and easy to see. She had to get out of this and fast, before Femke used it to turn things in her favor. At the same time, she was doing such a good job down there, munching away, she really didn’t want her to stop.

So a compromise, then. Gripping the ropes for support, Bubbles spread her legs wide and lifted them up around her opponent’s head, trying to catch her opponent in a tight scissorhold, clamping down with her full, unrelenting strength.

Some would say it was like flipping a switch. For Femke, and for Bubbles, the wires that ran between fighting and fucking had long ago, perhaps from birth, been tied up in such a dense tangle that they could never be distinguished, never could be turned on or off without each other. The same way that she beat Bubbles with her fists, Femke would attack her with her tongue, and she would love every second of it!

Femke slurped and sucked, licked and kissed, savoring the taste of her rival's pussy and lapping up every little bit of aroused juices she could get. Her lips brushed Bubbles's clit, and, after another vigorous licking up and down her labia, Femke was going back to that same spot—when Bubbles managed to snap those legs shut around her head.

"Oogh!" Femke groaned, the sides of her skull all of a sudden feeling hotter as pressure began to build from that scissor. Her munching was briefly interrupted...but, soon enough, she would continue, bringing her hands around to grope and spank at Bubbles's bare ass!

Then her hands began to stray higher, up Bubbles's back. And Femke began to shove up onto her feet, lifting Bubbles with her arms. If the shorter-haired woman kept the scissors locked in, Femke would rise to her full height with those tree trunk-like legs still locked around her head, threatening to squash it like a melon! And she, needing to escape from between them, would suddenly drop down again, hitting Bubbles with something awfully similar to a powerbomb to try to force her to let go!

God damn, and Bubbles had thought that her wife had the best tongue around. She still thought that, naturally, but it was hard to ignore that there might’ve been some bias seeping into the equation. Right here and now, Femke was making a strong case for taking the number one spot, and the only way Bubbles could be sure was with some extensive testing.

Which wasn’t the worst idea, come to think of it. Put that on the to-do list.

In the present, though, Bubbles strove to focus on more pertinent things, like squeezing the life out of her opponent’s neck. As much as she enjoyed the tongue lashing she was getting, the danger was all too real and recognizable. If she orgasmed at this early stage, it would snowball through the rest of the match - she could accept that cumming was inevitable with Femke in the ring, but she wasn’t about to give up the good less than a minute into the match.

So she clamped down tight, hard, fully intending to knock her opponent out, or at least do some good early damage. She kept that hold up, too, even as her ass was groped, even as she was lifted up, and even as she realized the pain that was about to come her.

The crash that resulted when Femke slammed her against the mat was enough to leave the entire boat quivering, one that seemed to reverberate across the ocean. It drove the wind clean out of Bubbles, left her gasping, and she had no choice to unfurl her legs from around Femke’s neck. Groaning and aching, the Virgin Killer flopped away and rolled over to her chest, shaking her head and trying to reclaim all that fading strength.

Femke felt that scissor hold, and felt it fully. Mere seconds into it, her ears were already burning, and after a minute her jaw was starting to ache. She could endure the pain for quite a while longer, she was sure, but just because a bulldozer kept on moving didn't mean it wasn't getting dented, scratched, and generally banged up all along the way. A lesser woman's scissors Femke might have been able to laugh off, walk around in, do grocery shopping in.

Bubbles? Bubbles was a danger. An equal who had to be treated as such.

So Femke got creative, recognizing the opportunity she had to do some major slam-centric damage, and she took it, driving her rival down onto her back as hard as she could, making the whole boat shake, even sending some small waves out from the vessel and into the ocean. The duel between the two behemoths was already affecting their environment, changing, in some small way, global weather patterns.

Femke was totally focused on Bubbles, though. She got up onto her knees, her hands briefly going to the sides of her head as she sucked in a deep breath of air. "Damn...those legs..." she marveled, her voice full of awe as she looked over at the other woman's back. Her eyes then narrowed in on the bikini top that Bubbles still wore, and, with a yell, Femke would jump onto her doppelganger's back, grabbed onto the string, and yanked up as hard as she could, trying to lift Bubbles slightly until the tiny strip of fabric tore off of her body!

Bubbles didn’t give Femke the soft, playful scissors that she liked to use when she played around with smaller women - no, nothing short of the best would do for her best friend. She crossed her legs, clapped her ankles together, and poured on the pressure, exerting a force that would split even the toughest of melons in mere second. Her muscles swelled and tensed and grew, her toes curled, and she summoned every part of her body she could to choke the life out of Femke, giving it her full effort.

And it still wasn't enough to knock Femke out. What a woman.

Instead, Bubbles was the one who ended up breathless, brought down with a move that she’d used to crush many an opponent, but never had done on herself - not until today. If anything, she’d gotten off lucky, knowing that Femke could’ve done worse if she hadn’t been oxygen starved. Small solace she writhed in pain, but there was the fact.

Her main goal was getting back onto her feet now, but it seemed like Femke had a few other ideas, one’s that involved pouncing on her back before she could even dream of getting away. Bubbles cried out from the sudden jolt, then cried out again as her bikini was seized and yanked, lifting her upperbody up, stretching her back. The garment was not all that expensive, no, but it was sturdy and solid, held up, even as it dug in Bubbles’ breast and stretched. She flailed, she bucked, but she was able to do little more than that at the moment, effectively trapped until her bikini had enough of the treatment and snapped.

Femke's head still burned, and she knew that those scissors would be enough to knock her out if they lasted just a minute more. She never reached a level where Bubbles stopped being impressive. It made Femke indescribably horny, and totally set on beating Bubbles into total submission and making that one-of-a-kind woman be her slut for as long as she pleased.

Right now, she had to get Bubbles naked. She needed to be able to see that fully-nude body. With her foe stunned, she jumped on top of her, grabbing onto the back of the bikini, letting it squash Bubbles's incredible rack back against her ribcage as she yanked on it. But it didn't break, not even after several powerful pulls and plenty of twisting and stretching. Femke had to ask where Bubbles had gotten it. Later.

Right now, she needed to get it off of her, but also could not waste so much time not attacking her friend that the shorter-haired woman was able to recover and strike back. So Femke would make a hybrid of her two goals, as she tightened her grip and began to spin around like a hammer thrower, trying to spin Bubbles around by the string of her bikini! She would pick up more and more speed until, when she felt she was going fast enough, she would plant her feet and make one last ripping motion with her hand, trying to tear the bikini off and also send Bubbles flying over the ropes and out onto the deck of the yacht!

Bubbles didn’t regret her decision to start this match out clothed, but wow, Femke was providing a good argument for beginning in the nude.

At the least, she should’ve gone for a material that could’ve been easier to rip clean off. She couldn’t yank it off, even with her immense strength, and while that could’ve been a good thing - it might’ve been distracting if she’d tried this while they were standing - like this, it gave her a convenient handhold, a way to control Bubbles.

She used that control in the wildest, craziest fashion, hefting her up and breaking into a hurricane spin, whipping the Virgin Killer about like she was nothing more than a little child. Getting manhandled was a new experience for Bubbles, but one that she was getting more accustomed to the longer she hung around Femke. This, however, went far beyond the standards, as she was helplessly whipped about, faster and faster, until…snap.

Bubbles’ top could stand no more, it split open, and its owner paid the price for its death, getting flung hard across the ring. The moment carried her up and over the ropes, and might’ve sent her flying off the boat if she hadn’t grabbed the ropes in time with a flailing hand. It was just enough to stop the momentum hard, and she wound up flopping down onto her back, a hard slop on the hardwood.

Good start.

Femke spun Bubbles around with all of her might, wanting to show off a bit for her friend, demonstrating her power by tossing that burly, muscular, buxom frame clear over the ropes. Luckily, Bubbles caught the rope and managed to bring herself down onto the ship's deck rather than tumbling over the edge and into the sea. If that had happened, Femke would have had to slow down her assault on the amazing American. With Bubbles still aboard, and stunned, to boot, she didn't.

So now that both of them were nude, it was a true test of body against body in total seclusion from outside influence, and Femke wanted to start it off right. Not wasting a second, she bolted towards where Bubbles had fallen. Without slowing down, she would hop up onto the middle rope, using her remaining momentum to propel herself upwards and over the top...

Femke was not much of a high-flyer. At her height and weight, how could she be? But she only needed enough clearance to bounce over the top rope, and with the energy generated by a running start from the other side of the ring, it would be enough. And now, hurtling downwards like a meteorite, Femke would aim to land ass first right in the middle of Bubbles's belly with a diving senton!

Less than a minute in, and Bubbles was on her back, aching and staring up at the sky, glad that a few clouds had decided to get in the sun’s way. As much as she loved a good tan, she didn’t feel like leaving this fight extra crispy, win or lose.

Bubbles wished she had a chance to breath deep and recover, but deep down, she knew full well that wasn’t going to happen. Femke wasn’t the type to leave her alone for along, and she knew her opponent would be coming after her soon, hungry for the hunt. The only question was what she’d choose to follow with. Maybe she’d come through the ropes and pounce, or maybe she’d roll under and try to get on top or maybe-

-or maybe she’d fly through the air like a madwoman. ”Jesus Christ!”

It was the most horrifying, beautiful thing that Bubbles could remember seeing. She’d looked to the side just in time to see Femke doing a springboard off the middle. A sprinboard to the outside. It would’ve been one thing if she’d just done a suicide dive through the middle. Bubbles could do that herself, though she rarely ever had a good reason to. No, Femke used a move that was straight out of the cruiserweight division, something Bubbles didn’t even know she was physically capable of. It was an amazing move, and one that Bubbles absolutely did not want to be in the receiving end.

She threw her body hard to the side, a desperate attempt to get out of the way in time. It would suck for Femke, yes, but better her butt that Bubbles’ abs.

Femke might have gone for something a little bit less flashy, like the suicide dive between the ropes. But she figured she would build up too much momentum and risk missing Bubbles entirely. The American was directly on the other side of the ropes on the deck, after all, and the last thing Femke wanted to do was bash her head into the side of the boat going for her foe. If anything, springboarding off the middle rope as she went for that senton was the safe choice.

It did, of course, give Bubbles a little bit of extra time to react, as Femke loomed above her in the air. And the American amazon used that time well, as she managed to shake off the stars she must have been seeing long enough to roll out of the way.

Femke had known it was a possibility. It was the reason why she was leading with her butt, rather than her back or her head. Still, she had essentially no time to react, as her legs and arms managed to slow her fall only very slightly as her big, round tush smashed into the wooden deck hard enough to make it creak and groan underneath her, Femke letting out a yelp as the force of that miss rattled her entire skeleton and she rolled over, groaning, onto her stomach, one hand gingerly patting at her ass. "Fuck..."