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

Another wrestler might take this moment to hold back, be cautious, give Bubbles some space before they moved back in. That would be the smart move to make. The right thing to do from a tactical standpoint.

But it wouldn’t be Femke’s way. Not at all.

There was no prudence here, she just came charging in full steam, drawn to Bubbles like a magnet, moving faster than someone on their knees had any right to. More pain was coming her way, but the Virgin Killer didn’t dread it - every punch she took was a chance to give it right back to this amazing woman, and oh shit, did she get the punch.

It was a hook, but calling it just that felt like an understatement. The blow crashed into her face and sent her back against the wall just as she was trying to push off, ensuring that plan would be a bust. Time to try for something else, then.

Instead of returning fire and going for the kill with something similar, she tried for something different. She reached up and grabbed Femke’s hair, getting two fistfuls, and twisted about with a powerful jerk, trying to ram her head hard into the railing, using the boat itself as a weapon. Sort of.

”Just peachy!”

Femke had Bubbles back against the side of the ship. Bubbles wasn't taking her turn to strike back, so, when Femke got tired of waiting, she got in close and took another shot herself. The hook landed cleanly, and Femke smiled as she smashed her rival back against the wall again, killing Bubbles's efforts to escape this restrictive position before she could even really give it a go.

She was ready for Bubbles to strike back this time, knowing her shorter-haired rival would not want to fall too far behind. Femke was expecting a punch, though. She did not expect Bubbles to change things up completely, sink her hands into Femke's long, luscious hair, then pull her head forward, Femke's thick forehead clanging against the railing that topped the side wall of the ship. The ringing sound of the impact would be audible even for the viewers at home, watching on tape delay. Femke saw stars and felt an intense migraine coming on as she wobbled and fell back, letting out a groan as she swung her arms blindly upward at Bubbles, trying to land a couple of extra shots to her face or tits to force her to keep her distance!

Because, after that blow, Femke needed a few seconds to actually get back up on her knees and resume the fight, and she couldn't help but worry about what Bubbles would try in the meantime!

This was going well and poorly at the same time, an odd combination. On one hand, Bubbles was getting thrilled here that she’d never experienced with another wrestler, having the time of her life as she clashed hard with her greatest rival - but they were both human, and the feelings of fatigue were starting to set in. She needed to make some gains, here.

Banging Femke’s head on the rail felt like a good step in the right direction, brutal as it was. This was a hardcore fight, nothing was off limits, and she was making good use of their environment to deal some heavy damage. It should have been enough to leave the Bronze Bruiser stunned.

‘Should’.

Bubbles moved in for the kill, only to be greeted by a neat one-two, right on the face, slipping past her defenses. She faltered for a moment, her legs turned to jelly, and she was almost to her knees before she regained her senses and straightened up. God, this woman could hit hard - as if Bubbles needed a reminder.

With a feral scream, she threw her body forward with open arms, surging towards Femke and leaping. Her legs came up, looking to catch her foe around the waist and lock her into a tight scissorhold, while her arms came up and tried to encircle Femke’s head and pull her face deep into her bosom. A classic move for women like them, and effective.

They had an hour to try to rack up as many submissions as they could from each other. How long had it been so far? Five minutes? Ten, maybe? Femke's sense of time was scrambled right now, the same as everything else in her head, save for her sex drive and the part of her brain which dealt with obsession (and, therefore, dealth with Bubbles).

The banging of her skull against the railing didn't help her brain. She soldiered through it, moving her fists almost entirely by muscle memory as she lashed out at her rival again, managing to catch her as she moved in with a couple of nice, clean shots to that gorgeous face. Bubbles stumbled back, and Femke managed to rise back up onto her knees. Her vision had even cleared and focused again by the time Bubbles screamed and lunged at her.

But she couldn't escape. Bubbles wrapped herself around her like a boa constrictor, legs encircling Femke's waist, arms encircling her head, then dragging her face down into that bountiful bosom. Femke gasped, and squirmed, but could not prevent her head from being buried in that warm cleavage, letting out a puff of air into that valley as she fell down onto her back, arms coming up to pound hard at Bubbles's sides, fighting for air!

This wasn’t going to do. Not at all.

Oh, there was nothing wrong with what currently going on, at least not on the outside. Bubbles had Femke buried in her tits, the perfect place for her - given their matching mammaries, this was the ideal way to dominate her rival. Hot. Personal. Intimate.

But it wouldn’t be enough to seal the deal, not when Femke was running on all cylinders. She would break out of this, she wouldn’t submit, and they would go back and forth again. Which Bubbles was looking forward to, quite a bit, but she was also hopping for someway to tip the scales. She did want to win this, after all.

She just needed a way to tip the scales, to regain control of the situation. Something unique, something...oh.

A devilish smile came across Bubbles face, one that contorted as Femke’s fists sank into her side. Enduring the pain, she gripped Femke tight, hefted her up, took a step back to make some space, and bounded forward, building up enough momentum to take a running leap - one that would launch them off the ship and into the deep, blue sea.

So, obviously, when you set a match on a boat, the fight is going to go into the water at some point. That much is just common sense. Femke was fully prepared for that eventuality, when they inevitably smashed through the side of the boat and went tumbling down into the deep blue sea. She wasn't going to try to avoid it—she would embrace it.

She just didn't expect it to come on the way it did, with such deliberate action on Bubbles's part. It wasn't a punch that sent one titaness or the other sailing over the railing, or an uncontrollable ball of feet and fists that splintered that wood and fiberglass barrier. It wasn't even a toss. Bubbles just held on tight as Femke pounded her sides, wound up, and...jumped.

They splashed down a little over a meter from the boat, the momentum and their combined weight immediately shoving them down seven or eight feet beneath the waves. Thankfully, their natural buoyancy meant they would quickly begin floating back up to the surface, and, as they did, Femke would try to shake off the shock of the sudden cold-water bath and start this wet section of the fight off right. She would have thrown a punch, but underwater, that wasn't going to work out well. So instead, she just reached forward, clamped her hand down on one of Bubbles's tits as hard as was possible, and gave it a vicious, hundred-and-eighty-degree twist!

This was why Bubbles loved wrestling. She could’ve joined some underground fighting league and put her strength to good use, even gotten some great sex in the raunchier establishments. But only in wrestling could something crazy like this happening - a fight that takes her out of the ring and off a boat into the ocean.

Best job in the world.

The water felt good, washing over her body all at once, sending a chill up and down her spine and reinvigorating her. Not quite as good as starting the fight fresh, she knew, but about as close as you could get to it in the middle of the battle. More energy, more fire, and she knew exactly where to spend it all.

Femke seemed to be of a similar mind, too, as Bubbles could feel the power surge through her body as the waves lapped around them. She gasped for air as soon as they reached the surface, knowing every ounce of it would be precious now, and she gasped again as her nipples were seized and twisted by Femke’s unrelenting claws. Hot. Hard. Horny. Femke could probably yanked them right off if she put enough torque into it.

Not going to happen. If her hands were busy with Bubbles’ tits, that meant they couldn’t do other things - like, say, defense. Bubbles took advantage of that little factoid and lashed, swinging both of her arms upwards to slap Femke on the side of her head, looking to box her ears in.

Femke had been in the wrestling game a long time, and had had some crazy matches. But nothing like this. Hanging out with Bubbles, things went in directions she never could have anticipated. Bubbles was that dynamic sort of personality who would just grab an opponent and jump straight into the ocean to mix things up. She was the sort of person Femke needed in her life.

Now, the Dutch brawler couldn't stop thinking about taking Bubbles, Mariah, and Darya on a cruise around the Pacific. Orgies all night until they were too exhausted to go on, then rolling into the ocean to cool off and rejuvenate before starting up again. Add in some chains, whips, and gags, place a couple of friendly wagers to ignite the competitive fires. It was such a tantalizing thought, and, as she grabbed onto Bubbles's tit and twisted as they were still floating up to the surface, the sight of that brown orb deforming made it difficult to take her mind off of sex.

But as the broke the surface, Bubbles did her part to focus Femke's attention, swinging her hands up and clobbering the sides of Femke's head, making it ring again, making her growl and let go of that tit! Now that they were on the surface, blows were effective again, and if Bubbles wanted to take her on that way, Femke was happy to do it! With a big grin on her face, Femke swung her right fist around in a big arc, aiming a powerful, haymaking hook right for the softest part of her friend's cheek!

Oh, thank God, Bubbles knew how to swim. It had been a while, yes, but she could do a decent enough dog paddle to get back on the boat if she had to. Probably would’ve been screwed if Femke didn’t know how, though, but she seemed seaworthy enough. Should’ve been fine, so long there wasn’t something crazy, like a riptide. Or sharks. Or jellyfish. Or any of dozen things in the ocean that could’ve just ruined their day.

...really, this wasn’t the best idea, but screw it. Bubbles had spent most of her life hardly thinking of the consequences behind her actions, she wasn’t about to start now.

Not when she was throwing down with one of the hottest women she’d ever come across, twisting her tits so hard she almost thought she could rip them off. Her retaliation did the trick, slamming into Femke’s skull, but she knew there’d be something coming her way soon. Defending like this was just too hard.

Sure enough, Femke returned fire with a hook that exploded on Bubbles’ face, spinning her all the way around in the water and leaving her dazed - but not so dazed that she couldn’t throw something back. She jerked hard to the side and swung her arm up, attempting to hit her opponent in the face with an elbow from behind, a wild attack that could’ve knocked her senseless. If it hit.

Even if neither of them had been able to swim, their tits probably could have been used as flotation devices. Femke wouldn't have minded hanging onto Bubbles's bust until they were picked up. Though she would prefer to catch up to their slowly-drifting ship and clamber back onboard under her own power, preferably with a knocked-senseless rival ready to be ravished tucked under one arm.

It would be a tough battle, as Bubbles surely preferred to be the ravisher rather than the ravishee, as well. The force of her punches made Femke's head ring like she had ten cathedrals' worth of bells stuffed inside of her skull. Femke's retaliation made just as strong an impression on Bubbles, of course, spinning the American a full hundred and eighty degrees in the water, leaving her in a bad position for going on the offensive.

Bubbles, of course, made the effort, anyway. But Femke was ready. The only effective means of attacking an opponent to your rear in the water was to go after the head. She had her hands up, and, when that elbow came in, she grabbed it, squeezing that arm tight.

And then she used that hold to reel Bubbles in.

She pulled Bubbles's back against the front of her body, bringing her legs up and squeezing them tight around her rival's waist, keeping her hold on the woman's arm with one hand, and reaching around with the other hand to sink her fingers into a tit. Finally, her head would come forward, resting on Bubbles's tan shoulder, her teeth firmly, sensually biting Bubbles's neck, hard enough to leave a red mark, though not break the skin.

"Mine," she whispered, right in Bubbles's ear, as their combined weight caused them to bob beneath the waves again.