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

Bubbles had been saving this move for a while - really, she’d wanted to use it on Femke since they first met, but she’d just never had a good enough opening for it. With breasts like hers - theirs, really - she was practically begging for it, and she was never one to miss a good opportunity.

The result was everything she could’ve asked for. Even with Femke’s trademark skin, the impact spots showed clear as day, and it seemed to take the power right out of her legs, making those mighty tree trunks sway in the wind. Satisfied, Bubbles knew that her rival would have trouble topping that, no matter how hard she tried.

She was wrong, and she never would’ve guessed how wrong.

Femke struck back with a...move. It wasn’t anything Bubbles could identify, but she knew one thing: it was effective. A pincer move hit her breasts from the top and bottom, striking at their most painful vulnerable points, biting with her fists. It made Bubbles squawk - a loud, audible squawk - and she went stumbling back with eyes wide and her mouth agape.

Needing a temporary retreat, Bubbles made found herself near the stairwell and started to make her way down it as she reeled. She knew there were some interesting things below the deck, after all, and she was interested to see what was in store for them, and if she could use it to her advantage.

Femke was using moves she had never imagined she would use. She was using moves which likely didn't have names, as the match wore on towards its conclusion, time ticking away, and Bubbles simply refused to break. Bubbles was a monster, an unstoppable behemoth, and Femke was running out of things to throw at her rival. It was a situation she had very little experience being in.

But her improvised attack, strange as it was, got quite the reaction out of Bubbles: it forced her to retreat. With her whole face bearing quite the shocked expression—something which brought a semblance of a smirk to Femke's lips—Bubbles backed up, stumbling, towards the stairwell leading down below deck. Femke started to stumble after her, tripped over her own feet, almost faceplanted right on that elegant wood-paneled deck. But she recovered, lunged to catch Bubbles before she got away, and came up just short, as the American titaness disappeared into the more dimly-lit interior of the vessel.

There were plenty of interesting things down there. And Femke didn't want Bubbles to get a headstart finding them and putting them to use.

"You...come back here, Bubbles..." Femke gasped, as she stumbled right after her rival, aiming to not give her an opportunity to set an ambush. She thought she caught sight of Bubbles in the corridor, but the other woman had enough of a headstart, and Femke was exhausted enough, that she wasn't absolutely certain. Femke ran through the layout of the ship in her head—or the hallucinatory layout her concussed mind was conjuring up—and decided to head for the bedroom near the rear of the ship. She knew there were weapons there.

Very unique, sensual weapons.

The idea of retreating seemed insane with Femke - this was the sort of body you ran to, not from, after all. Bubbles had the woman of her dreams - well, the second woman of her dreams right here, all alone on a boat, with all the toys she could ask for and all the time she could want to use them. Any second where the two of them weren’t vying for control seemed like such a waste.

But she wanted to win, and there were more ways to win than just repeatedly slamming against Femke until one of them broke. There was room for a little manipulation, too. A little strategy.

With Bubbles’ size, she wasn’t exactly a master of stealth, but down here, she could employ some of it. The area was unfamiliar to both of them, the lights were off for the moment. It might not work, but she could try it.

The second she was down the stairs, she moved to the side and turned a corner, staying low and waiting for Femke to come after her. It wasn’t hard to hear her, her heavy steps shaking the boat as she made her way down, and when she was close, Bubbles leaped at her from behind, snaking her arms under Femke’s shoulders, attempting to lock her in a tight full nelson.

”Right here.”

Femke clomped down the stairs into the dimly-lit deck below, turned to head for the stern, and was almost immediately set upon by Bubbles from behind. Femke had feared an ambush, but what could she have done other than stay above deck and wait for her foe? She couldn't let Bubbles get away with separating for that long. Femke's body needed to feel Bubbles's struggling against it.

As she was locked into that full nelson, Femke felt Bubbles's breasts heaving against her shoulder blades, those nipples so big and hard that it felt like they could actually carve up Femke's flesh. As she felt her rival glue that buxom form to her back, Femke swooned, legs wobbling a bit, then managed to rally, getting herself on solid footing again. She was still turned on, though, feeling Bubbles pressed against her, feeling her rival exert all of that power.

"Mmmmnn..." Femke moaned, biting her lip. She tossed her head back a bit, letting Bubbles get a faceful of her hair. And she thrust her ass back, grinding it on Bubbles's pussy, bouncing and twerking to make sure Bubbles was just as turned on as she was.

"I should've...known you were there..." she breathed huskily, forcing back with her butt again, straining with her arms, trying to drag Bubbles forward, trying to loosen the hold. "What next...?"

Stealth wasn’t exactly Bubbles’ forte - the only woman she’d ever managed to successfully sneak up on was Mariah during their foreplay once, and she was 90% sure her wife had just been pretending to not see her coming from behind to keep up the illusion. When you big enough to shake the room with each step depending on the material of the floor, the element of surprise was a rare luxury.

But, here? Maybe it was the crash of the waves, their general fatigue, or Femke was just too horny to notice, but she was able to get the jump on her doppelganger and wrap her up tight from behind. Not only was it a tactical success, but it gave her certain rewards.

”Oh, fuck...” Bubbles mouth opened and let out a low, lewd moan, trembling as Femke’s stellar ass slide against her wet pussy, fitting like it was made for that purpose alone. The sensation alone was almost enough to make her melt and lose the hold, but by some miracle, she managed to keep her composure and didn’t drop the lock.

What next? Good question.

Bubbles took half a second to think. She remembered that the bedroom was in the stern of the ship, but there was the problem of not being too sure where the ‘stern’ was - like the vast majority of the world’s population, she knew pretty close to jack all about ships. There were three nondescript doors down here, and she knew the closest one was the bathroom, could see it half opened. But which one of the other two would lead her to the promised land, with that heavenly bed she’d heard about.

One way to know. Maneuvering around and jerking Femke from side to side to keep her worn out, she shot her leg out hard behind her and kicked the second nearest door open, clearing the way to a room that…

”Oh.”

Bubbles was looking over her shoulder, but what she saw could only be described as a dungeon. A chair with straps in the middle of the room, leather. Chains and handcuffs strapped against the wall. Whips and paddles on the walls and oh did she like the look of the strap-on selection in the far corner. There were even a few collars, and she could just dream how one would look around Femke’s neck.

”Get the fuck in there!” Bubbles growled, hungry and wild, as she spun about hurled Femke inside. She followed right after and closed the door behind her, ‘trapping’ them both inside.

They were in an interesting position, with Bubbles technically in control, but the hold doing much more damage to her chances than to Femke's, as the Dutch fighter swished her ass back and forth across her rival's crotch, turning her on more and more with each pass, bringing her closer to that next orgasm, that next energy-draining climax. Femke figured Bubbles would try to stop her before she got all the way there. And Bubbles did, yanking and swinging wildly on her, dragging her to one side of the corridor, then the other, before finally barreling directly towards one of the doors. Femke, slightly disoriented by the low light, the exhaustion, and the spinning, had no idea what room Bubbles was dragging her into until she was thrown inside, tripping over her own feet and falling onto her hands and knees—at the foot of a leather throne.

Her eyes widened a bit as she took in the incredible sights this room had to offer. So much to use on Bubbles, from restraints to weapons, in materials ranging from leather to rubber to titanium. She pushed herself up onto her knees as Bubbles closed the door behind her, trapping the two of them together in this tiny, incredibly well-appointed dungeon. Femke's breath quickened, and her pussy just got even more soaked thinking about all the trouble they could get up to with this equipment.

She had to make sure she was the one making the trouble, though, and not Bubbles. Grabbing onto the chair, she yanked herself onto her feet, then launched herself, only half-thinking, in the direction of one of the walls, figuring whichever one she reached she would find something which would be useful. As it turned out, she reached the wall with the handcuffs first, and grabbed a pair of solid metal cuffs, turning quickly to face Bubbles, aiming to rush at her and barrel her over with a swift elbow aimed for her chin!

While Bubbles owned many of these items, at least from her own favorite brands, she’d be lying if she said she got as much use out of them as she liked. Toys were fine, but they tended to require a lot more planning and forethought than she typically liked to put into fucking. Roleplaying, scenarios, dress-up, that was all more of Mariah’s thing. She was much more into the purely physical, going straight to it, ripping off clothes and working up a sweat within one minute.

But Femke was different. Special. She would have to take her time with her, like a fine wine. There were so many ways to fuck her, to make her scream her name, she wasn’t even sure where to begin…

She would have to make the decision fast, though, whatever it was, because it didn’t seem like Femke was having similar qualms, as she made a beeline for the wall nearest her position. The cuffs - yes, those could be a problem. Most fetish cuffs were specifically designed so you could escape them without any real trouble, having locks that you could pick with a decent toothpick and escape hatches. She only caught a glimpse of this pair, but they looked sturdier than anything you’d get out of a fetish store. Heavy duty. Real, actual, police-grade handcuffs. She was strong, but strong enough to snap out of those? Probably not.

But a quick glance to the side gave her a perfect counter. The whips were within reach, and Bubbles grabbed one, a single tail with a few tight knots at the end. Pulling it off, she channeled her inner Michelle Pffiefer and lashed out, striking hard at Femke’s chest from a distance. She wasn’t exactly an expert, but she’d seen her wife wield the whip on her enough times to get the gist of it.

Femke got the jump on Bubbles thanks to her quick, no-thinking approach, charging her rival before she was ready. In hindsight, Femke would have much preferred an actual weapon in her hands as she rushed the other titaness: a paddle, or a big, spiked dildo, or, as it turned out, a whip very similar to the one which Bubbles managed to snag in the seconds before impact. Femke's eyes didn't even register what Bubbles had before the American woman lashed out and let the tail play across Femke's tan tits.

"Aaaayyhh!" Femke squealed, as a straight red line appeared across her tits, at a slight diagonal that caught the bottom edge of one areola and just missed the top of the other. Her legs wobbled, threatening to turn to jelly, as she lost most of her forward momentum, stumbling to the side, dropping the handcuffs at her feet and inadvertently kicking them. She didn't collide with Bubbles, but crashed into the wall beside her. Panting, biting her lip, she managed to moan: "That...is fucking...good."

Now she couldn't let Bubbles have all the fun, whipping her tits like that, sending that searing pain followed by butterflies of pleasure through her body, without returning the favor. And without the handcuffs she had picked up, she needed a new weapon. She grabbed for a whip of her own—a cat o' nine tails—and immediately swung at Bubbles's torso, trying to let the nine ends of the whips play across her rival's tummy and tits!

Bubbles had to say, she was impressed with her own results. Mariah was far more deft with a whip than she could ever be, lacking the speed and flexibility to get good results, especially with a moving target. All that considered, she managed to nail Femke fairly well, and she was pleased with the results. Even on her opponent’s tanned skin, she could see the blazing red streak across those tits, practically glowing in the dim light. That sizzling skin, the look in her foe’s eyes, the echoing crack around the room - she wanted more. So much more. And she didn’t just want to be on the giving end, either.

Femke was of a similar mind, it seemed. Bubbles moved in after her strike, thinking her doppelganger would be open for a precious moment and intending to strike while the iron was hot - figuratively and literally. She realized her mistake too late, however, as the Dane returned fire the moment she was in range, lashing out with a nine-tails - and a mean one, too. Leather. Fine quality. The sort the real pro dommes used.

Bubbles’ breasts were already raw  and sensitive for a variety of reasons, so when Femke lashed out, she got the noise she was surely looking for. It didn’t help that she was coming hard when the lash swung out, making the impact all that worse. The Virgin Killer let out a wail mixed with pain and pleasure as she fell to her knees.

Breathing hot and heavy, she reached up and grabbed the nearby St. Andrew’s Cross for support, using it as she tried to rise. ”That...phew. That’s the best you got, huh?”

Bubbles was moving in, and Femke, still weak in the knees, could not do much with her lower body to avoid another strike from the whip her rival held. She managed to turn her body around to face her advancing opponent and swung with the nine-tailed whip she herself had picked up, letting those nine leather tips fan out like the tail of a hawk, and strike with all the stinging ferocity of that taloned bird of prey.

She hund onto the wall as the swing nearly pitched her over, making sure her aim was true and she stayed on her feet. Bubbles did not manage to remain aloft. She collapsed onto her knees, making a sound which seemed to fill Femke's whole body with pure adrenaline, and a few other euphoric hormones besides. She bit her lip as she pushed off the rack of whips and stumbled forward, catching the opposite side of the cross from Bubbles, bracing herself against that X-frame as her doppelganger rose back up to her full, imposing height. The two of them were just about running on empty now, but the match was still very much up in the air.

Femke raised her whip, taunting Bubbles with the knowledge of impending pain. "Not even close, Bubbles...not even close," she insisted, before swinging at Bubbles again, this time a little lower, trying to catch her just after she had made it to her feet and while she still was clinging to the cross—so that those nine tails could find and gnaw into her more-than-ample ass cheeks!