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

Bubbles wasn’t mad at her rival for throwing that punch into the mix of their grappling session - far from it, really. There were many, many reasons she loved fighting this woman, and one of them was the unpredictability, the thrill of never quite knowing what would be coming next from that deviant mind. As the punch found its mark and sunk into her body past the muscles, she couldn’t help but chuckle, and give herself an inward kick for not doing it first.

Oh, well. There would be plenty of time to innovate later, she was sure. At the moment, she had more pressing things to worry about than creativity. Like, for instance, surviving this match long enough to employ new ideas. There was a moment of brief pleasure, as those welcome hands traveled down her body and came to her ass, but she knew that wouldn’t last too long. Pain would be coming soon.

She was ready. ”Do it.”

Bubbles squealed - as much as she could squeal with her husky, raspy voice - as she was hurled through the air, sent head over heels. She came down onto her back, hitting the deck with a meaty smack, and she went rolling away in a spasming fit. The pain shot up and down her spine, wreaking havoc on her bones, and she knew right away she’d be feeling it for days. Coming to a rest on her chest, all she could do was arch her back and reach around to massage the impact spot, doing all she could to alleviate the agony.

Something about lifting and holding Bubbles like that made Femke very content. Maybe it was just the simple, elegant show of strength, using her rival as a prop for the purpose of that demonstration. But it was a comforting feeling for Femke.

She wasn't going to hold Bubbles up for very long. If she got too relaxed, the adrenaline currently powering her body would wear off. And Bubbles didn't want her to wait any longer, either. So, Femke would take a deep breath, then fall back and smash Bubbles down with brutal authority straight into the deck of their floating battlefield.

Bubbles went tumbling from the force of the impact, and she slid so far that Femke actually had to take a second to rush over, keeping up with her flailing opponent shortly after she came to a rest, tits-down on the deck. Femke couldn't resist a vulnerable, stunned target like that, and with Bubbles on her front rather than her back, it was better to go for a submission than a pin. Femke leaped onto her, naked Dutch front gluing itself to naked American behind, Femke's pussy and Bubbles's butt fitting together like puzzle pieces. Femke gave that rear end a ferocious, eager hump. But she wasn't just going to pleasure herself on top of her rival. She brought her arms down to wrap them around Bubbles's limbs. Then, straightening out her own spine, she would yank Bubbles's upper body up into the air, bending that already-aching back in a full nelson-camel clutch combination!

"You're mine, Bubbles...!" Femke rasped, as she gave that ass another hump, turned on by the position she had Bubbles in right now!

Bubbles would never call  herself a student of the game or a technician or anything fancy like that. She was into wrestling so she could fight and fuck other women in a variety of settings, getting paid good money to do something she would have happily done for free. But she didn’t have to be the best wrestler in the world to realize that being on her chest, face down, with a woman who had the strength to rival her in every muscle, was a bad thing. Definitely something she needed to change.

She started to push up, forcing her aching muscles to move despite them desperately wanting to do anything but. She didn’t even have to look to the side to know what was coming her way, after all. If a hot, wet, gorgeous, naked Femke was on the floor before her, open and vulnerable, how would she respond?

Pounce.

And pounce is what she did, hoping on Bubbles’ back and pancaking her to the floor, pinning her under writhing muscle. She began to push her way up, frantic to rise, but thicks arms circled around her shoulder, closing in and wrenching her back in an iron camel clutch. Flexibility was not something was known for in the best of times, and having it tested like this had her screaming, as her spine was forced further and further back.

But she didn’t mind the pussy against her ass, though, and showed her appreciation with some wiggling and flexing. The most she could do at the moment.

Bubbles seemed to know what was coming, but in her exhausted state she wasn't able to escape before Femke got on top of her. Were it Femke flattened on the deck and Bubbles pouncing, the Dutch behemoth doubted she would be able to escape her eager rival, either. She was just lucky it was her doing the pouncing, with that tempting American ass wiggling and jiggling right in front of her, all but demanding Femke's pussy find it.

"Mmmrph...there we go...that ass is mine..." Femke grunted in a husky, tired voice, a smile on her face as she smacked her wet pussy into that ass as it bounced up against her sex. Wet slaps echoed out from the boat across the ocean for a hundred yards, but of course there were no live spectators to appreciate that simple bodily music. Nor any to appreciate Bubbles's screams as Femke wrenched back on her upper body, trying to snap her in half, sensing the first submission of the match—almost fifty minutes in, a testament to the prowess of both warriors—might be very close at hand!

"Go ahead, Bubbles," Femke grunted again, leaning in and biting her ear, nibbling on it fondly as she kept on thrusting with her sex, feeling an orgasm coming, and welcoming it, wanting to mark Bubbles's ass with her juices as a display of dominance! "Mmmfff! Say it...submit to me and be my bitch!"

”Fuck!” Bubbles bellowed, managing to slip out the occasional word through her grunts and moans and cries. ”Oh, fuck!”

Her mouth had a mind of its own at the moment, so it was a little hard to keep track, but she was certain she’d dropped about ten f-bombs in just as many seconds, spilling out as Femke continued to invert her further and further. Her body wasn’t sure whether to enjoy this or dread it - yes, it was painful, but it was the sort of pain that only Femke could give her, and a real part of her wanted to relish in this opportunity. She dominated other woman like this all the time, overpowered them. How often would she have the chance to be overpowered herself? The temptation to let her do as she pleased was a tangible one.

But no. No. She had no qualms in surrendering to this woman, but that wasn’t the game. Femke would have to earn it, and the same applied vice versa.

Without the use of her arms, there was only so much Bubbles could do with her legs alone, but she worked for it any way, wrenching her way and trying to inch forward towards the side of the boat, fighting for every step she took. There were no ropes to break the hold here, but she did have another option - as soon as she was close enough, she jerked forward hard and tried to ram Femke’s face into the boat’s guardrail, hoping that would be enough to stop this unstoppable woman...for a moment, at least.

Femke let out a feral growl as she came on Bubbles's bouncing, meaty rump, her juices smearing all over it to mark her as belonging to Femke. It felt good. This all felt so good, having this kind of power over Bubbles. Femke felt a high like few she had ever before experienced as she wrenched back on her rival's upper body again, still trying to snap her in half even after taking a few seconds to breathe after her orgasm!

She hadn't even really noticed how close they were getting to the edge of the ship, to the wall with the rail running along the top that they had so recently tumbled over. Chalk up her lack of focus on their position on the deck to the haze caused by the orgasm. But now, as Bubbles spewed delicious expletives and Femke nibbled on the side of her friend's face, she did notice. She smirked, gave Bubbles's ear a kiss, and, after having to loosen the nelson-clutch slightly to readjust, she wrenched back again, giving it everything she had, her own muscles straining as she though that she just might be able to get Bubbles's head to touch her toes!

"Where did you think you were going?" Femke teased. "No ropes, Bubbles..."

After almost thirty seconds of exertion cranking that spine into a circle, Femke did have to ease up, to recover before her next big pull. So she let some of the tension in the hold out, slowly—and then suddenly not so slowly, as the easing turned into a snap forward thanks to Bubbles's timing. Femke's face swung forward, smacked into the rail separating them from the water, and she let out a yelp of shock as her vision flashed and she let go of Bubbles, tumbling down onto her side, groaning and rubbing at her head as sparks of pain slashed through it and indescribable splotches of color wavered and bloomed in her eyes!

Fuck, even when she was in trouble, Bubbles's strength was incredible...

Once again, the double edged sword of wrestling Femke came into play, as Bubbles fought her raw, feral instincts. Who else could do this to her? She could feel the hot, sweltering pussy against her ass, pounding on her, rubbing her, and so much of her being just wanted to lie back and let this woman do whatever she wanted. Fuck the pride.

Femke hunkered down on the hold, though, and it was just enough to make her focus on the match, enough pain to overcome the pressure. Her body was in full riot mood, withering under this simple but effective move. Would she tap? No. Never. Definitely not when the prize was so high.

Her plan was a solid one - desperate, yes, but it could work. She just had to gain one foot. Then another. Almost there, and-

Crazy as the move was, it worked. It worked well, really, and did exactly what she needed, dislodging Femke and laying her out to the side. It was a situation that Bubbles would’ve loved to take advantage of, but the problem was that she was far too busy at the moment doing important things. Like refilling her lungs.

She took a moment to catch her breath, sucking in huge gulps of air, before she grabbed Femke’s hair with one hand and the rail with the other, using it for support as she tried to get them back on their feet.

Femke smacked into the side of the boat, her hold on Bubbles disappearing, hands slipping away, barely catching her own falling body as it slumped against the side of the boat, laying in a puddle that was made up of equal parts saltwater and sweat.

She gasped, sucked in a deep breath herself, trying to let the oxygen work its magic in dispelling the throbbing pain in her head. It worked—kind of. Adrenaline helped, too, as her vision started to clear, but she knew that she was being pushed close to her limits. It was a rare feeling for Femke, one which she knew that only Bubbles could truly cause within her. She admired the hell out of this woman, her doppelganger, her perfect rival, who even now, mere seconds after nearly being broken in that clutch, had grabbed onto Femke's hair and was dragging her back onto her feet, ready or not.

Femke wished she had more time, but she had to be ready. She didn't have a choice in the matter. She reached, trying to grab Bubbles's hair in return, but it wasn't nearly as long as hers, the grasping not nearly as straightforward. Another painful tug stretched her scalp as she was yanked from her knees back onto her feet, wobbling a bit, hissing through clenched teeth.

Once she was up, though, she was going to take the fight to Bubbles again. Let her know that, from here on out, it was a slugfest right to the finish. The best way Femke could think of to demonstrate that was to ball a hand into a fist and plow her knuckles straight into Bubbles's huge, wobbling right tit!

The toughest thing when it came to wrestling Femke was remembering that she was not, in fact, a normal woman.

Bubbles had grown so used to taking on women who couldn’t keep up with her, who weren’t equipped to handle her pace, that she sort of ran off instinct and inspected her opponents to react a certain way, regardless of who they were. As in, most of her foes would’ve been too winded to fight back for a while after having their head slammed into a steel rail. Heck, that was the sort of thing that tended to knock people the fuck out.

Not Femke. Not even close. She still had enough energy to fight back, could still muster real force out of her body, and she put it to good use, striking out with a powerful punch that sunk deep into one of Bubbles’ two greatest treasures. The VIrgin Killer squawked and stumbled back, grasping her soon-to-be bruised breast, but there was no way she was backing off. If that was the way they were going, she’d give back double what she took.

With a defiant shriek, Bubbles brought both of her arms out and whipped them down at once, giving Femke a vicious double slap right on her chest, looking to fill the air with the sound of wet, slapping flesh.

Femke would make up for any damage dealt to Bubbles's tits later, with kisses and nuzzles and plenty of groping of those giant, strong orbs. Right now, though, those big jugs made tempting targets, too vulnerable in a match like this to resist. Femke's punch flattened a tit back against Bubbles's ribs, and the woman released Femke's hair, backing up a step, cradling the suddenly fragile-seeming mammary.

And then she launched herself forward again, bringing both arms to bear, swinging them down with surprising speed. Golden squealed in agony as her exhausted body took another brutal blow, this time to her two most prescious assets! She bent slightly, knees threatening to buckle, hands instinctively going to grab her breasts, massage them, soothe the pain.

She bit her lip and powered through. No time to wimper and bitch about her orbs with Bubbles right in front of her, perfectly vulnerable to retaliation. The best cure for an aching titty was an aching titty attached to someone else's chest. Femke swung one arm down low, heading for the underside of Bubbles's left tit. The other arm came from above, forming a fist. Her intention: that the slap from below would act as a solid "table" upon which her fist could hammer that tit down upon, flattening it with all of the agonizing force as a hammer crushing a raw steak. The word "pancake" was thrown around a lot when it came to breast destruction. Today, Femke wanted to add a definitive definition of the word!