Birthday Bonus Story - Borderlands: Biggs and Liddie

So just a writing prompt I asked for on 4chan. Felt like writing something dumb on my birthday, so I asked the Shortstack thread for ideas on a short story; got the request for a midget and hulking pair of female psychos from Borderlands. I fucking LOVE those games (co-op PvE is my jam) and could play them for years. Basically for you outsiders, most of it's explained beyond it being a scifi wasteland of a planet. Hilarious and very fun game. Grab em on the cheap if you can. But yea, the story's got some cartoonish violence to it, so don't mind a bit of blood and implied cannibalism.I also  wrote the ending as a last-minute joke, but I feel confident that I could come up with some further story to this. Whether it's the two lunatics having sweet but murderous adventures, or some kind of parody or side-story to the Borderlands universe, I'm not sure. Or just introducing 4 fetish-based characters that would be "playable characters" being offered with these as their cinematic teasers. Perhaps even some shitty stat/move lists for em.


The caravan was supposed to be safe. Everyone on Pandora knew that the word “safe” was a huge overstatement, as even the large settlements could be assaulted by asteroids, sandstorms, giant worms, giant robots, lunatics, traitors out to make a quick buck, or the ever-present psychos. They said that the laborers/prisoners on the planet were dumped there ages ago when something they found broke their minds, and it was difficult to stake out any territory on the sandy asshole of a planet without running into a bunch of the raving, masked monsters of men.
That was the odd thing, Carlos thought. There were never any lady psychos. Sure, there were some hardass mercs and bandits, but the full blown loony ones? Closest he ever heard was of a little girl who’d blow you up as quick as talk to you, depending on her mood, but she seemed sort of… cracked, not broken. His mind wandered on that subject for a minute while he stood watch on top of the caravan’s eponymous van, strapped into a lawn chair on top. He grabbed on when the van bounced wildly, loud bursting noises coming from below followed by more popping and rattling behind him.
“The fuck was that!?” he called down as the van barely kept from tipping over in its haste to brake among the dunes. The tanned young man leaned over to his driver and his man literally riding shotgun, who stepped out and nearly whacked him in the head with the opening door. They stepped out, where Angus kicked the tire with his metal foot.
“Shit busted it open,” he grunted. He knelt down and picked something out. “Looks like bone. Skags, prob’ly. Those persistent little shits can’t even stay dead without causin’ trouble…” The rest of the vehicles unloaded, reporting similar troubles from the buried debris.
Carlos glanced over at Angus, the big fat thug of a trader. “Are skag bones usually that sharp, though?”
“Could have been sharpened. Wind got them the wrong way, or just…” Angus paused as if sensing the omen of his words, right before the huge BLAM! drowned out the sound of his head popping. The posse stared at his body, which took a moment to realize it was dead and drop thanks to his sturdy prosthetic. Everyone drew their guns and pointed them all over in a panic, not thinking to check the splatter to spot the sniper.
There came a noise like a bellow of a sandworm, but as it reached it peak, they were able to pinpoint it as a huge, deep voice bellowing “FUCK!” and drawing out the U for a good thirty seconds. Hurdling between a pair of rocks, there was a massive woman, built out of nothing but pure muscle, scar tissue, and leather with a little bit of hair as if an afterthought. She wielded a gigantic sniper rifle tipped with what looked like a kitchen knife tied to the barrel, the weapon a good two feet longer than her already 8 foot figure mutated by god knew what kind of chems and mutated diet that grew on Pandora. Leather straps crisscrossed her chest, holding back broad, dense breasts that threatened to turn into pecs, but they simply were there to minimize jiggling since she had her hard nipples out in the open air. She had mismatched combat boots (red and blue) and a gas mask that had been severely cracked and busted open, defeating its actual purpose as her bulging green eye, the edge of a crooked smile, and some blood red hair, missing several large patches, poked out from it.
“Badass psycho! Take it down!” one of the crew shouted as they opened fire. The psycho woman ran straight for them, but at such speed it was hard to predict how close she’d be, not what direction. She also swung up her rifle to fire singlehandedly, not an accurate approach but absolutely powerful enough to rip a few limbs off the defending party. When she was in range, she thrust out her sniper rifle like a spear and ran the other two drivers through like a kebab.
As the psycho got close enough for Carlos to make out her wild expression, he raised his machine pistol and opened fire. The small rounds grazed the giant woman’s stomach and leg, enough to make her stumble. He knew there was no “wounding” a psycho, though. They were dead or they were still perfectly murderous. He moved to quickly pop a fresh clip in, but he noticed the pack she was wearing; it had no weapons or ammo in it, but what appeared to be a purple-haired child…
The “child” looked up at him with dilated red eyes and scars over her face, and with a peculiar stubbiness to her limbs and stout muscle to her that made it clear that no matter how tough living out here was, it was no child at all. As soon as she met his eyes, the midget psycho frothed at her scarred mouth as if she’d just smelled the blood of her big  partner.
“Midget! She’s packing a midget!” Carlos shouted out right before the hulking bandit grabbed the agile little shit and flung her like a 100 lb grenade out from the pack. The dwarf wore nothing but a pair of cargo shorts that had been reduced to a flimsy skirt and a life vest, both of which barely covered her overly plump breasts and hips that even outshone the giant one’s curves. Her legs were like iron, with thighs as thick as a horse’s, and had a pair of tomahawks made of pipes and rusty metal that she whipped out in midair.
“I’M THE PRESIDENT OF MEAT TOWN, YA MAGGOT FARM!”
Right before the little psycho and her little ax split open Carlos’ head, the crew’s lives and a title card flashed before their eyes, announcing their demise:
Biggs and Liddie!! (get it? Cuz they’re big and little?)
Biggs whirled and roared as she slashed the throat out of one more gunner with the end of her rifle-spear. Two of them ran for cover behind one of the crippled cars, but Biggs kicked it with her boot hard enough to tip it over and squash them both. Liddie whipped one of her axes into the gut of another while she was busy unrooting her second from Carlo’s brains. “Gimme back! Gimme gimme!” she squeaked in her unnaturally high voice, planting her boot on his face to rip her axe out. One of the bigger bodyguards caught her by surprise as he smashed her face with the butt of his rifle. Her button nose crunched and tilted to the right as it became a blood faucet, but she was otherwise perfectly unfazed as she gave a feral scream and smashed her bloody forehead into his crotch. The guard bent over to cup his junk, letting Liddie flip the rifle up and slap the trigger with a tiny finger to force him to shoot his own skull open. “Confetti time!” she shrieked in delight as the gore trickled back down over her.
She turned back to see one trying to flee the carnage while Biggs was caught up in slowly crushing the last remaining man’s skull between her big, veiny hands. “Gonna make you pop like… like err... a pop song,” she gurgled deeply. The hulking psycho actually dropped her manic grin to look over at Liddie. “Lids! I don’t has a good one! Help me out here!”
“Can’t!” Liddie piped merrily as she stuck her hatchet into her teeth and bolted after the fleeing woman on all fours. “More crotches to chop!”
Biggs grunted and rolled her bulging eyes. “Sorry,” she grumbled to the shuddering victim in her grasp. “I’m usually a little more prepared for this.” One more squeeze collapsed the skull between her hands as she heard a few last squeals from Liddie’s direction.
It was a hell of a score! Health packs, rations, ammo, spare parts… they wouldn’t be able to haul it all back, so they picked and chose. Most of it would be scavenged by skags or other bandits by the time they got back, so they kept the best food and the sharpest, nastiest pieces of metal as top priority. They made it back to the cave, their den under a rocky outcropping that was loaded with old and useless shit. Faded out street signs and things that kind of made sense to a tiny, distant part of their brains from before. But that was before! Before the good times. Before everything made sense. Before everything became blood and meat and that elation of the sight.
Biggs tossed the ration crates into a corner while Liddie stuck the body parts around the place; whether as decorations, snacks for later, or warning signs out front. The midget scurried back in and started to poke at Bigg’s wounded leg and belly. She groaned and pulled off her pants, then her mask and straps to leave herself perfectly nude. There was a lot of red under her clothes, whether the bloody marks or her lazily ignored body hair under her arms and just below her abs. She braced her arms over the old locker, spreading her arms and legs expectantly.
Liddie went about her usual treatment: she climbed onto Biggs’ lap, bare crotch on her knee while she licked and bit at the wounds, occasionally spitting out a bullet or two. The health packs were boring. They didn’t have enough stimulants or painkillers to get their rocks off anymore, so they were no fun to use at all. If Biggs got bored or it stung too much, she’d shove at the wild-eyed munchkin’s face. Liddie would just bite one of her fingers with her bloody teeth, getting the hulk to grunt and relax back into her receptive position.
The lunatics had reached a nearly symbiotic state at this point. Big and loud paired with little and… also loud. Liddie surprised people and did handy little things that Biggs was too dumb, lazy, or twitchy to deal with. Biggs lugged her around, keeping her plump on loot and corpses and generally scaring off any would-be predators or kidnappers. The spiderants could wolf her down in two bites, and the nomads were famous for taking midgets as literal meat shields. All you needed was a plank of wood or an old door and some chain to hold the bitch in place.
It was where Biggs had found her, all that time ago: in her frenzy, Biggs had torn the shield out of the thug’s hand and threw it away before she realized there was a person on it. Liddie looked too small to eat, especially after that fat bandit, but there was something… more.
Liddie finished with the bullets, but wasn’t done feasting on her partner. She licked the blood from her lips and met her eyes. “Eatin’ lead makes me hungry!” she barked/squeaked up at Biggs.
“Give it good, ya little leech,” Biggs grumbled, but her deep voice more of a mother bear than a menacing monster. A low rumble to comfort rather than intimidate, like a beast of burden. Lidde gave a giddy little giggle and stooped to her knees, her heavy breasts popping out of her life vest at the slightest opportunity. Biggs gave them a squeeze with one meaty hand, but it was… gentle. An adjective she didn’t use very often in her actions.
When the madness spread and the inhabitants went wild, the pretty ones went first. They were used up and slaughtered like the prizes of the litter. The female psychos, they didn’t fit in well when everyone’s urges went wild. There was only so much a gal could do except get… well, ugly. There was an unspoken understanding between the two, and not just because they could barely form a sentence. Their eyes met again, like they did that fateful night when they’d first seen each other. Finally found someone who understood and that they could trust, and trust themselves with.
Biggs reached down and pet the violet hair of her little lover, three fingers enough to cover the munchkin’s entire skull. “I’d never eat you,” she grumbled to her. The sentiment brought a few thick tears to the giantess’ eyes, running over the deep scars that mapped her ruined face.
Liddie looked up sadly and climbed up Biggs’ thick thigh, then up her chest and abs like a beefy ladder before she licked the tears out of the furrows of her scars. “Shut your sad up,” Liddie cooed before kissing the salty drops back into Biggs’ mouth. Her thick tongue rolled around with the little appendage not even the size of Biggs’ thumb, grabbing the runt by the arms and lifting her off her feet. Liddie didn’t even jolt from her powerful grip, the devastated remains of human beings finding a sick, strange satisfaction in being with each other. Even with Biggs’ tongue only able to fit its tip into her partner’s mouth and her drool flooding over a partially missing lip, Liddie kissed back with all she had, slurping up the saliva like a helpful caretaker.
“Gimme,” Liddie repeated softly. “Gimme your guts.” Biggs grunted quietly and turned her upside down, handling the midget with a careless ease before stuffing her between her legs like a chubby sex toy. Liddie immediately cooed like a comforted animal, sniffing and then slurping at the shaggy, sweaty privates. Biggs let out a long, almost whale-like groan as her eager little mouth went to work. There was no clear reasoning behind it beyond pleasure; it wasn’t Liddie doing it as a task for Biggs, or Biggs letting Liddie have her pleasure. It just made sense to them. It said for them both what they couldn’t say with words (in this case, because most of the words were swears or synonyms for meat).
Liddie’s little tongue lapped and poked around inside the powerful psycho, her muscles seeming to tense and bulge at random as the pleasure echoed through her body. Liddie popped her lips around her engorged clit, bigger than two of Liddie’s nimble fingers between all the chems Biggs was on at any given time of day. She sucked on it like a baby’s bottle, getting more violent spasms and huskier growls from Biggs. The kind that would make most people run and think she was revving up for something especially nasty (which in some sense of the word, she was).
Being turned over as she was, Liddie’s skirt had flipped up to dangle around her chest. The little pussy was presented in front of the goliath, along with a telltale scar than down down to her labia and the sporadically growing pubic hair that resulted. Never one to shy away from a scar, Biggs hugged the runt to her chest tight enough to burly her fat tongue into her snatch. Liddie squealed and kicked her little feet, more in excitement than pain or fear. The slimy appendage filled her to the brim, enough that her drool overran it to pool in between her chubby cheeks and down her ass crack. Liddie let out some wild whoops and yips as the bigger girl quickly worked her into a frenzy, adding to her appetite for her psychotic lover.
The hyper little Liddie squirted like a little water fountain or a reversed impression of an emptying bucket. She kicked her feet and chanted “Gimme gimme gimmeeee!” to demand more, refusing to stop her obnoxiously high-pitched song until she squirted a second time. At that point she returned to her oral attention, letting the brutish partner grope at her fleshy titties for a new set of handles. Liddie started leaning a little hand on Biggs’ fresh bullet wounds and digging her teeth into the rubbery flesh of her enormous clit. Between the size difference and her drug-addled mind, this appeared to be just what the mad doctor ordered.
Biggs let out a roar that seemed to choke out halfway through and actually emit a womanly sob. It was the only time that Liddie ever heard her voice get that high, right before her big outburst after their playtime. The killing had wound her up, and it was the perfect cooldown she needed. Of course, Biggs had to hold onto her tightly as she came over her face, gushing hard enough that Liddie squirmed as if she’d be washed away by it.
Sticky with each other’s various fluids, the bandit finally released her orgasmic death grip on Liddie. The relaxing midget emitted a tiny fart, getting her thuggish partner to toss her onto the pile of bloody blankets they used as a bed. She plopped into it with a cackle as Biggs stomped over and flopped on top of her like a blanket of flesh and muscle.
“Shut your face, little one,” Biggs growled. “Soon the sun will burn you alive.”
“Tuck us in?” Liddie chirped. Biggs responded with a headbutt from one thick skull to another. Liddie sighed contently, headbutted her back, and fell asleep with the lumbering monster of a woman on top of her.
The two jumped to their feet when the noise woke them back up. It was why Biggs slept with her boots on, and why Liddie just used her calloused little feet anyway. They tilted their heads in near unison, confirming the sound of engines nearby.
“MORE BATHTUBS FULL OF TITS!” Biggs bellowed. She snatched up a handful of random rations, stuffing them into her mouth before slamming her busted gas mask back over her face and forcing her pants back on.
“AND MORE DUBSTEP!” Liddie replied brightly as she clambered onto her partner’s back.
(Biggs and Liddie; part of the Borderlands Bootilicious Season Pass)

Game of Thrones Deathfight Chapter 3: Sansa vs Ros

another part of the ongoing collab project. And just for appropriate theme and all that, all the ladies in this storyline are 18+. Creator requested a chapter title, but I've only done parts 1 and 3


Sansa was in a miserable state that night. She laid in bed knowing that tomorrow was her big wedding to Tyrion, and she certainly wasn't thrilled about it. Being wed to a dwarf without her approval was certainly not the fairy tale wedding she'd imagined. She'd had her chance, of course, with Petyr's offer. He had given her the chance to escape King's Landing, but she had turned him down. The possibility of staying in King’s Landing to marry Loras Tyrell made her stay only to regret it now with less fortunate choices given to her. At least there was the bright side to it: she would be free from Joffrey. The psychotic boy-king had done everything to beat, humiliate and torture the poor girl, on top of executing her father. Tyrion was still a strange sight, but he'd been the one to treat her the kindest in a long time, and his power would be enough to keep Joffrey at bay.

Then the bag went over her head. Sansa's muffled cries and protests were ignored as a pair of strong figures marched her out of the room and through the halls. They tore off her night gown until she was completely naked apart from the hood. She felt a thick, broad shackle clamped around her throat and heard the tinkling of chains before the hood was removed, leaving her wearing nothing but her bindings. The chain locked around her neck and led some ten feet away to another woman, naked and locked into it a similar fashion.

She was in one of the countless unused rooms of the castle, and one of the bigger ones. It looked like it would have been used for hosting some large dinner or small party, but was empty apart from the current inhabitants: herself, the guards who had dragged her in here, the other woman, and up on the small balcony overseeing the room was Joffrey.

"Good. You finally made it," Joffrey said with a shallow smile, as if it was Sansa's fault for not being kidnapped quickly enough. "I think you remember Ros. She's another one of my other playthings." He gestured to the other woman on the other end of the chain. Sof looked back at Sansa with tired but cold eyes, ones that told that she had been defeated some time ago. Her body bore several small scars and stretches of scabs from old struggles or beatings.

"How may I serve you, your grace?" Sansa asked carefully, looking up at him carefully. She tried but quickly failed to remain calm, tears welling up in her eyes as she gave a hopeful pull at her chain. It didn't budge, and the tears turned into a sob. "I'm going to marry your uncle. I'm-"

"Not rightly his until tomorrow," Joffrey cut her off calmly. If his words weren't enough to get her quiet, he lifted up the small but powerful-looking crossbow that had been resting at his feet. He pointed it rather lazily at them, his grin becoming more genuine, more twisted as he went on. "So here's what's going to happen: you two are going to fight for me. You'll fight until one of you has passed out, at which point I'll be using this to finish off the loser."

Joffrey gestured to the guards, who left the room and shut the heavy doors behind them. Sansa stared at the young king aghast, but he looked back at her with impatient expectation. "Well?" he prompted, and Sansa had no other warning for the start of this sadistic deathmatch than the jingling of her chain. She looked up just before Ros stepped up to her and punched the auburn-haired woman the face.

Sansa went to the cold stone floor with her mouth open in shock, rubbing her aching cheek. Tears welled up in her eyes from the pain and were supported by her utter despair at the situation. She was supposed to be safe now! Tyrion was going to be able to finally stop her suffering! Instead, the scarred and naked woman climbed on top of her and started punching at her naked breasts. Sansa cried out in pain, bringing her arms up to shield herself. Ros just angled her fists to drive into another part of her chest, leaving Sansa clumsily guessing to absorb what damage she could.

"Don't you listen to your king?" Ros growled, a bitter sarcasm filling her words. "Fight back!"

"No! Please! You don't have to do this!" Sansa pleaded, coming out ass more of a sob than she wished after the punishment to her already aching ribs.

"I do. We can't all be spoiled little princesses," Ros hissed as she pulled on the chain and wrapped it around her fist. Sansa reached up to shield her face from the metal-lined impact, but Ros grabbed one of her breasts and raked her nails over it instead. Sansa gave a shrill scream as the bloody lines were torn across her soft skin. Sansa's wide and teary eyes noticed a similar set of old cuts down Ros' own chest, as if the whore was trying to make Sansa match her battered appearance.

Sansa instinctively shoved back at her, her palms connecting with Ros' breasts hard enough to knock her back. Ros took a moment to nurse her chest, but Sansa ran for the door. The chain was just far enough for her to reach and pull at the door. It wouldn't budge. "Please, your grace! Have mercy!" she blurted.

"Come now. We all know where mercy gets your family," Joffrey called back with a grin, his thumb rubbing almost sensually along the wood of his crossbow.

Ros followed the lead of the chain and grabbed Sansa by the hair, lifting and then smashing her face into the hard wood of the door. "Stop running, little girl!" Ros spat venomously as Sansa bounced back from the wood, staggering and with a bloody nose. She was dazed enough that Ros had little trouble wrapping the chain around Sansa's neck and pulling it like a choking leash. The collar prevented it from being fatal, and Ros was experienced but not especially deadly as a fighter. It wasn't the best way to finish Sansa, but it certainly kept her struggling and afraid. She choked and gasped as the chain found her flesh, forcing her to emit a thick glob of drool.

Sansa pulled at the chains, turning and thrashing until the back of her head smacked into Ros' face as a helpful side effect of her struggles. Ros released the choking grip on the chains and Sansa eagerly pulled herself free of them. The cold metal ran down her body like a noisy, metallic snake as she turned to face Ros once again, rubbing what exposed flesh there was on her neck. "Please, listen to me," she choked out, coughing until her breath came back to her. "You don't have to do this. I don't want to die."

Ros touched her lip and checked the blood on her fingertips. "Then fight," she ordered grimly, coming for her once again. Sansa tried to back away, but the chain kept her from getting very far. Ros grabbed the middle of the chain and suddenly pulled on it, making Sansa stumble towards her when the other end jerked on her neck. Ros clashed with her unwilling foe, wrapping one arm around Sansa's collared neck and sending her other hand between her legs.

The bride-to-be screamed as Ros gouged her nails into her privates, squeezing and scratching anything she could find. Her fingers hooked painfully inside of her labia while her thumb dragged a painful streak down through her pubic hair. "Stop it! Stop it! Please! I didn’t do anything to you!" Sansa wailed. She started to cry openly.

Ros gave a sharp pull on Sansa's hair and hissed into her ear. "You think I care what you’ve done?" she demanded as she twisted and drive her thumb into her lower belly harder. “It doesn’t change what I’m about to do to you.”

Sansa's screams reached a new high pitch as Ros started to draw blood from her deep cuts, dripping over her thighs and pussy. "You had everything handed to you, but some of us had to work for our food. I'm no spoiled trophy of a wife. I'm a lowly whore, and I've been fighting my entire life just to make it this far."

Sansa was more shocked and unsettled by the woman bitterly spelling out her life to her as she finally managed to pull free from the grip on her head. Ros tore a few pieces of her hair out while she backed away, but this time she at least knew she couldn't outrun the chain. She tenderly held her bloodied cxnt as she watched Ros with increasing fear and wariness.

"Stop running!" Ros screamed at her, pulling down and stepping on the middle half of the chain. Sansa staggered and was caught with a quick punch to her eye. The beaten betrothed hunched over clutching her face, wincing as she felt the swelling and bruising form around her socket. Her bending over just made it that much easier for Ros to stalk after her and spike her knee up into Sansa's breasts, knocking the wind out of her and sending her stumbling to her knees. Ros send a kick to her face that left Sansa flat on her back and sobbing as she tried to curl up defensively.

Ros straddled Sansa's stomach, her bare legs spread enough that the auburn-haired girl could see her privates slide against her skin. She also felt Ros grab her by the breasts and viciously drive her nails into her skin, opening more freshly bloody cuts. Through Sansa's screams, she could see a long and jagged scar running down the prostitute's shapely breast just beside her nipple.

"Let me tell you something, you craven little shit," Ros snarled at her. Sansa could only quake and cry as she pulled desperately at Ros's wrists. She managed to push one away, but Ros just used it to grab a chain instead of Sansa's breast. She wrapped the chain around the royal's breast and squeezed it tight like a makeshift noose, making the tit swell as it changed to a sickly shade of red and purple, oozing out more blood from Sansa's latest injuries.

"I worked damn hard to reach where I was. I've done things you've had nightmares about," Ros went on, almost like a lecturing mother more than an angry attacker. "I was the best I could get for my lot in life. I was a  lowly whore, but I clawed my way up the rank.. I was second only to the brothel's owner." She gave a twist of both her wrists, drawing more blood and pained cries from Sansa by claw or by chain. She leaned into hiss her words, spraying Sansa's face with spittle for emphasis. "But royal or whore, there is no position you can reach by any means that can't be taken away from you."

Sansa reacted as much out of disgust as instinct, but either way she lashed out with an arched hand. The nails dragged over Ros' breast and just by chance, they caught on the edge of her long chest scar and tore a piece of the wounded flesh back open. Ros reacted with a furious cry, recoiling as one hand went to cover the freshly bleeding wound. Despite her bitter encouragement spurring Sansa on, the whore punched Sansa in the cheek and left her another bruise for her finally fighting back. If she was indeed trying to motivate Sansa to fight, it certainly didn't mean she was going to go down easily when she did. Panicked on what else to do, Sansa reached for the wounded breast and squeezed. Ros howled as the old injury exploded with pain and blood like a living memory, sending a sickening sensation through her stomach.

Sansa finally pushed her away and crawled out from under her, leaving Ros on her hands and knees as she cradled her bleeding tit. Sansa knew now she couldn't run. She still didn't want to fight the poor woman, but what other choice did she have? Giving in to Joffrey's sick game felt disgusting, but if she died here, she'd never have the satisfaction of him knowing that she had gotten away. That he couldn't control her any more. This wasn't about good and evil or right and wrong anymore. Joffrey saw to it that there was no "good" choice left. Now it was only life and death, and some small but steely part of her awoke and refused to accept death.

Ros started to rise to just her knees when Sansa spotted the chain's path. It didn't provide much of an angle for choking, but it did run between the hooker's legs. Rather than run from it, Sansa took a page from Ros' book and pulled the chain up as hard as she could. Ros shouted out in pain as the chain wedged itself into her snatch, forcing its cold links in between her pussy lips. They twisted in place when Sansa pulled harder, pinching at her tender flesh and warping the pitch of her painful cries.

"Just give up," Sansa grunted, a desperate plea for the fight to be over. She wanted to be back in her bed. She wanted to wake up and know she had escaped. She wanted to pray that this was just one immense and sadistic bluff by Joffrey just to make her sweat one last time. The last was the longest stretch of them all, though, and she told herself that she would see this through to the end regardless.

"Not how it works, my lady!" Ros rolled over to one side and pulled the chain with both hands. It tugged on her collar and made her fall to her knees, and while Sansa had tenderly nursed her wounds and fled from the slightest pain before, she ignored her scraped knees and rushed for Ros on all fours at a desperate pace while she was still high on the adrenaline. She threw herself on top of the whore as they lashed out for each other, grabbing and clawing each others' faces and hair in a savage exchange of attacks. They rolled across the floor as they each fought for position, making the chain dig into their backs and ribs at random. They each shut those out as they focused on their opponent, with Sansa's slowly growing fury matching Ros' head start as far as acquiring bruises and blood.

Their tumbling fight crashed Sansa's back into the hard stone of the wall, halting their accidental travels across the room. Ros was quick to grab her by the hair and bash Sansa's pretty little head against the wall with a dull, sick crack. The reluctant rival cried out in pain, but shoved her palm up into Ros' chin to bend her head back painfully. Ros growled and struggled to turn her head back down and raising Sansa's head for another spike into the wall, but the royal surprised her when she shot her fist out and landed a strike to Ros' throat.

Ros gagged and pulled back from Sansa, clutching her throat. Sansa ignored the pain in her knuckles where they hit the collar and rose to her feet, stomping down at the breathless prostitute. It was perhaps the last thing she'd expected herself to be doing as a lady, but here she was. Somehow, Lord Petyr Baelish’s face surfaced in her mind and the grim wisdom he once shared with her rang through her mind: "The world is no song, my lady. Some day you might find that out at your own peril, just like I did."

Ros finally grabbed the attacking foot, pulling hard and letting Sansa land on the hard floor beside her. It took the wind out of the fallen lady long enough that the more seasoned fighter was able to mount her. Ros sat on her stomach and faced her legs, forcing them apart and dragging her nails over Sansa's thighs. Sansa caught her breath just in time to scream in pain while the tender muscles were scratched up. When Ros' claws reached the end of their trail of destruction, she balled up a fist and smacked it down on top of Sansa's open twat. The lady howled in pain beneath the prostitute, her head swimming from that shocking impact to her pelvis. Seeing little other option, Sansa reached under Ros' ass until she felt her vagina and squeezed at the tender petals of flesh.

It felt wrong and twisted, but Sansa grit her teeth as she heard Ros' screams of pain echoing her own. This was what it took to win. It was what Ros resorted to, and judging by the old scratches and scars she could feel by the whore's privates, it was what her rivals had done as well.

Ros threw herself off of Sansa at last. The lady let her do so, but held onto her pussy as tightly as her fingers would go.

"Let go, you little wolfling!" Ros screamed at her. She was propped up on all fours, letting her snap a kick backward into one of Sansa's hanging breasts. She grunted and jolted from the hit, but kept her iron grip on Ros' twat. After all, if she had gained anything from staying with Joffrey, it was a tolerance for pain.

Sansa pulled back on her foe's flesh, dragging her by her well-used cxnt several feet back. Ros screamed and clawed at the ground, failing to resist the vicious pulling at her mound and pubic hair. Sansa was making good use of the harlot's weak spot, and had no intention of letting go. Sansa kept her grip while awkwardly positioning herself over Ros, beating her fist down on the hooker's head. The pain in her already abused pussy and Sansa's indignant fury bubbling to the surface was starting to overwhelm Ros as she moved to her knees and braced her hands over her head for protection. Ros had fought out of anger before, but she hadn't felt the outrage and pent up frustration that was fueling Sansa through this leg of the fight in a very long time. She had resigned to her fate, but Sansa was only just starting to properly lash out against it.

Sansa had to stop to catch her breath, regrouping with her rage while her sweaty hand still clawed idly at the whore’s snatch. Ros took her chances on the moment’s reprieve and thrust her hips backward. Her buttocks slammed into Sansa's crotch, knocking the lady a few inches back. Ros turned sharply and drove her elbow backward, slamming it right into the lowest part of Sansa's bush. The blow rattled Sansa so hard she clutched her crotch and fell to the floor, curling up as she hissed deep, angry breaths through her teeth. Ros crawled past her to grab Sansa by the thighs and force them apart, biting into the tender muscle right where her leg met her hips. Sansa let out a sharp cry, but grabbed and pulled on Ros' foot to try tearing her off.

Ros maneuvered more expertly than she did, resisting her pull and moving her mouth closer to Sansa's center until she locked her teeth together around her labia. Sansa let out a sharp cry from the crushing sensation on her genitals, but it was far more full of rage than despair. Ros expectantly thrust her hips into Sansa's face, sitting on her nose and lips so that when the royal tried to repay her cruelty, she had less space to spread her mouth. Sansa struggled to match Ros' position, trying to get a solid grip on the flesh and hair already surrounding her mouth. Sansa tried to shut out the pain as she grabbed Ros by her buttocks, digging her nails into the soft skin and using it to secure her biting grip on Ros' experienced loins.

The ladies locked in on their vicious 69 position, mouths locking with the other's genitals. The chains tangled loosely around their skin, crudely binding them against their foe's body. Tongues and teeth searched over the opponent for better positioning, experimentally probing for weaknesses and the perfect angle to chew their opponent into collapsing with pain. While Ros went with biting at random locations around Sansa's pussy lips, the lady went for a deeper approach. She was as surprised as anything to find herself shoving her tongue into Ros' cxnt, probing the wet depths of her womanhood just to bite the inner flesh when the petals opened wide enough. Ros jolted and twitched, her hips pulling away from her just to jolt back into Sansa's face by pull of lust and gravity alike.

Even with the top position, Ros was realizing the spot she'd put herself in. Sansa's desperate rage was sending her in for more vicious bites, her inner walls too wet to catch and draw blood but sending upsetting shocks through her body. They were upsetting not only from the pain, but that her pussy was growing wetter by each attack. She was being outpaced by the raging royal. Even then, some part of Ros hoped Sansa would win. She was a lost cause herself. Her body and mind were experienced, but worn out by what the world (and a few particular men) had done to her. Sansa's motivation was raw and fresh, still potent. Ros felt that she could die and no one would miss her, unlike the prized lady beneath her.

But wanting her to win was not the same as surrendering. She was worn out by the world, which meant she was too calloused from its shit to simply roll over and die. She grabbed the chain beneath them and pulled her mouth off of Sansa's crotch with a loud gnashing sound and breaking off their oral duel. She hooked the chain under one of Sansa's legs before she pulled up, sitting upright to put all her weight into it. On top of mashing her ass and pussy into Sansa's face, it ripped the chain up until it was buried tightly inside the auburn-haired lady's tender holes.

“You filthy whore!” Sansa shouted against Ros’ loins as the metal links dug into tender flesh. “I had you.”

“When you’re not winning, there's nothing wrong with changing the rules of the game,” Ros chided as she gave the chain a painful twist. Sansa hissed and bit her lip to try to shut out the intrusive pain, the links crushing down deeply enough to send a shocking pain through her clit. She tried to roll over and reach the rival whore, but Ros' grip on the chain was also keeping her from moving one way or the other. Ros was on her back to keep her from rising, and going forward dug the chain deeper into her sensitive flesh. Moving to either side simply caught one of her legs on the painful tool.

Ros gave another violent pull that made the damp metal pin Sansa's clit against the back of her vaginal walls. The royal gave a long scream at the top of her lungs, her voice tinged with rage even as tears welled in her eyes. She carelessly let the drool run from her lips, too caught up in her pain and fury to care. She would rather focus on her escape and survival than her hygiene right now. "After all that, I almost thought you'd put up a real fight," Ros gloated as she leaned into her aggressively applied weight.

Her opportunity presented itself as one of Ros' shifting legs, bracing her bare knees on the ground to help herself resist Sansa's thrashing. The royal grabbed one by the ankle and raked her nails along the sole of the whore's foot, sending a shocking wave of pinpricks up through Ros' sensitive skin and spine. Ros gave off her own startled scream, shuddering at the first of the sensation and then jerking away violently when Sansa repeated the move, this time with both claws down both of her vulnerable feet.
Ros threw herself off as far as the chain would let her go, rubbing her tingling soles as Sansa moved to her hands and knees. She pulled the now damp chain out of her privates, staring grimly down the rest of their bindings as she wrapped the slick metal around her fist to mimic Ros' strategy earlier. Ros winced as she finally started to put some weight on one of her feet, trying to rise and pulling on the chain to reel her opponent in. Sansa flexed her slender arm and braced herself, no longer willing to let Ros control the pace of the fight as she pulled back.

While Ros prepared for a tug of war with their bindings, Sansa surprised her by rushing through her flimsy guard. Sansa slammed into her with her full weight behind the charge, spurring herself on with a continuous growl. She didn't stop snarling or charging until she felt Ros' back hit one of the stone walls. The women's naked and scratched up bodies pressed together, hard nipples spearing into their opponent's soft skin and crotches locked together in a brief embrace. Sansa came to a sharp stop as the impact rattled through the both of them, but she recovered quickly and bashed her chain-wrapped fist into Ros' lower belly. The links of the chain plucked at her pubic hair to add to the pain of the bruising body blows, bringing shades of blues and purples to the edges of the whore's used and wounded womanhood.

Ros still wouldn't go quietly, even as the sinking pain in her crotch and stomach made her start to feel lightheaded. She slammed her knee into Sansa's crotch, but the tangling chain drew most of her momentum from her. She was stuck in place, thrashing and clawing back at Sansa with a desperation that the royal likened to a cornered rat.

Sansa threw one more punch with her chained fist, this time right into Ros' pussy. She left her hand down there to grind her fist against the, the cruel metal scraping and digging into her sexual depths. Ros gagged with pain and grabbed at her assailant's invasive fist, but Sansa took the other end of the chain in her free hand. She quickly wound it around Ros' arms, tangling her arms together in a quick, crude, but affecting binding. Sansa pulled it tight, jerking Ros' arms away from her awkwardly and leaving her helpless.

"Submit," Sansa hissed sharply, glaring into Ros' eyes. She clearly had the upper hand. She was clearly going to win. It was Ros' choice if it was going to be quick or slow. Willing or not.

Ros' reply came accented with a glob of spit to the royal's face. "Never."

Sansa's reply was similarly direct: she kept her chained fist in Ros' crotch, but took her by the hair with the hand holding her improvised wrist bindings. She lifted Ros' head back and cracked it back into the stone. "Submit!!" she snapped more sharply, pressing her face into Ros' while it rested against the stone.

Ros blinked away her dazed expression and glared back with a quiet rage, almost daring Sansa to continue. "You haven't the stomach for it, you weak little cxnt."

Sansa tore at her hair again, lifting and then smashing her skull against the stone once more. She delivered it a second time before she bothered to demand it again. Ros' bound arms tried to reach for her head, but she shook it weakly as she glared more weakly back at Sansa. The royal kept up this treatment, screaming for her to surrender a fourth time. By that point, she simply started to pull and bash Ros' head into the wall as rapidly and quickly as she could.

"That's enough," Joffrey interrupted at last. "She's an easy target now."

Sansa ignored him and kept beating the dazed and glassy-eyed Ros into the wall. The woman had refused to stop fighting, so neither would she. She wanted this over. It had to end, and the wolf blood in her screams for more bloodshed.

"I SAID, 'that's enough!" Joffrey repeated with a sharper and louder tone. Sansa remained relentless in her onslaught. Joffrey shouted for his guards, and Ser Osmund promptly opened the door. The armored man quickly took Sansa by the arms and pulled the thrashing, naked woman away from the struggle.

"Thank you," Joffrey sighed impatiently. "I thought I'd never get to test out this new crossbow." Ros was propped against the wall, her eyes glassy from the beating but staring up at the boy king with hazy attention. She was conscious enough to see him, but as she slid down the wall onto her ass, she knew she wouldn't have any hope of running or fleeing. The bolt took flight with a sharp, precise sound as it buried itself into Ros' right breast.

The meaty sound seemed to snap Sansa out of her frenzy, staring at the mutely shocked expression on Ros' face. "She squirmed," she faintly heard Joffrey complain, noisily reloading his crossbow. He buried another, and then one more to be sure as Sansa watched the woman die in front of her. Ros stared ahead with her eyes wide, not unlike Sansa's own. The key difference, Sansa realized all too clearly, was that the spark of life was gone in the slumping whore. The woman was dead because of her.

Sansa took a single, shuddering breath before she fainted on the spot, the shock and the remaining pain suddenly too much for her. Joffrey looked at Sansa with a dismissive shrug. "Get her back in her room," he ordered. "And get rid of that mess over there before she starts to stink." Osmund nodded firmly and set to handling the living woman before disposing of the corpse.

The exhausting darkness that consumed Sansa certainly wasn't as good as sleep, nor was it restful. She was plagued with unsettling visions, barely even dreams so much as troubling images. It was clear that she had taken a massive step in a new direction for her life. This sudden change had saved her life, but taken another. She could see her mother and father standing over her; her father frowning with disapproval and her mother with a look of forlorn disappointment.

That woman's blood was on her hands, and would never truly go away... but she'd done what she had to. She had taken a life and truly given away her innocence... but she had succeeded. She had let Joffrey win and played his dark game...

"But I am alive," she said quietly but firmly to whoever would hear. Her parents faded back into smoke, her father's head in particular lingering a moment as if detached from his body before it vanished with the rest. In their place, Petyr and Joffrey emerged from the smoke. Sansa couldn't go on following her family's examples; that had gotten them killed and let her make too many mistakes. It was a dark world that demanded dark deeds. She would not have to enjoy them like the crueler souls she had met, but she would do them.

Ser Osmund Kettleblack dumped Ros' body into the unmarked hole in the ground. He brushed his bloodied gloves off on his lap as he looked to the figure in the shadows of the nearby tree.

"Don't imagine you're here to help with the digging," Osmund joked dryly as the figure eyed the corpse. It was clearly dead, and clearly from the numerous crossbow wounds, but the claw marks and signs of extensive struggle told the true tale.

"The bad investment is dealt with," the stealthy guest summarized. He didn’t have to look at Osmund to emphasize the casual warning. "How was the fight?"

"Savage," Osmund summarized. "The whore was dragging the lady around the room for most of it until she snapped. She looked ready to tear the woman to pieces before the king asked for me to intervene."

The small man considered the corpse and Osmund noted the faint, sweet smell of peppermint coming off of him compared to the smell of rot that clung to his person. At last, the man produced a bit of parchment, scrawled down a message, rolled it up and thrust it at Ser Osmund. "Would you be so kind as to see that this reaches the Red Keep's chief steward? I think it's something that would catch his interest."

Osmund took it carefully before tucking it into his belt. "Certainly. Just as soon as I'm done with my other duties."

The short man nodded, leaving the scene to let the guard get on with filling the grave.

Goblin Diaries Part 6: Diplomacy

another part in the Scrapa story while being something of an aside. I know some people wondered about the non-goblin residents. I check in on everyone who's not directly related to Scrappa in this one, and introduce a few more members of the populace that Steve wasn't so aware of. It's thoroughly canon and stuff I'm pleased with, but just don't mind if it's wanders a bit from Scrappa herself for a bit on this entry.
>Feb 8: Scrappa has the kids pretty under control today, so I decide it’s time to take inventory on the old place. I’ve been feeding Gruunda and tossing some flammables to Sahara, but I’ve been neglecting a lot of the studies I’ve been doing on my local goblins. I tell Scrappa I’ll be out to check up on things and bundle up to go back out into the woods.
>Gruunda’s right out back in her shed. It’s pretty cloudy out, so she’s a bit less cringey to come outside. She still has that weird octopus body, popping out of the small space and filling out when she’s in the open air without seeming to need to stretch. She gulps down some pasta, old bread and chicken wings, bones and all. I ask what she’s been up to, and she talks about how she’s been having a lot of fun working the internet. She’s started a deviantart page that she links to my email, and she “namefags” around on 4chan drawthreads. I later found out that her page had some remarkable artwork on it: detailed stuff she’s doodled out, mostly human form stuff. I guess her skills in crafts and detailed work extends to art. I make a note to get her a reference book, but she apparently already got a drawing tablet. APPARENTLY a package came for her when I was out at work one day. APPARENTLY people started commenting on her deviantart, and now she’s taking commissions after enough people asked for “draw more tits.” She used that money to Paypal some supplies for herself. I make sure she’s not leaking any kind of important information about the monsters living here, but she says trolls know how to stay secret.
>Ven and Tiniel are holding up nicely The centaurs have got a simple setup, sort of like a barn with a lot of human touches. Kind of a 3-walled box with a roof, with plenty of room for them to walk around and a curtain of what looks to be a bear skin. They’re relaxing out by a fire pit, Ven resting with her head on Tiniel’s breast while the big one pets her hair and tends to the fire. They’re still pretty adorable together, and the big badass centaur gently wakes her lover to tell her they have company. Tiniel invites me for lunch, which I decide to take her up on. I planned to be out for a while anyway. Ven fetches a pot of water while Tin gathers up some of the meat and veggies from bowls in their shelter. It’s… a lot more gruesome than I had planned on, since the “meat” is a good portion of a badger corpse. Tin carves it up with a knife while hardly flinching, even wiping some of the blood off on her flank.
>While I have her alone, I ask how she ended up with Ven. It’s… quite the story, and clearly one that she savors telling. It’s got a lot of poetic descriptions about Ven (“eyes like sunrises” and “hair woven by the goddess”), but it sounds like the frailer of the centaurs is some sort of “wizened longbow.” It’s something about a bloodline that was kept pure for generations and some of the best leaders and skilled magic users of their kind were a part of it. When I press, Tiniel shrugs and admits she’s kind of a princess. Tiniel had offered to leave the herd to thin their numbers like she’d mentioned (apparently they were eating too much and too crowded to hide easily), and Ven had sort of defied the norm by sneaking off to go with her lover. For the big scary bodyguard type, it’s cute to see the nostalgia and just plain love in Tiniel’s eyes when she talks about her partner. It reminds me of the softer looks that Scrappa gives me.
>The stew’s not bad. The meat’s a little tough, but their knowledge and magic with plants makes Ven good at using spices and such to help with the taste. Apparently the hunting’s good out here, and they haven’t really needed much besides me lending them a few cooking pots when they first got settled. The ladies offer me some tribute for my hospitality in the form of some bear meat they had leftover, but I settle for some wild carrots.
>When we’re finished and Tiniel starts to clean up, Ven brings up that “It was out there again. I took care of it.” Tiniel grunts in annoyance, and I ask what’s up. Tiniel brings up the fairies that are starting to wake up, but they’re still slow in the chilly weather (one of them managed to pinch Ven’s butt when she went by the lake, but it got swatted by her tail). The real oddity was they’d been seeing this skeletal figure on the grounds. Every so often (between a few weeks and a few days), one of them will see something stumbling through the woods. Tin shot it the first time and found it was just that: an actual skeleton walking around. She shoots it down each time she sees it, but either it or another one show up later regardless. She hasn’t seen it start any trouble, per se, but it’s not something they like lurking around.
> I remember grandpa’s books talking about skeletons kind of being the lightweights of the monster world; they were no goblins, but they were clumsy, brittle, and easily surprised. If nothing else, I’m curious. It could be another inhabitant, if it’s friendly. Otherwise, I know he left a ritual for undoing undead curses on one of the pages.
>I tell them I’ll check it out. I get a solid branch off a tree and head out to the river. It’s nothing especially big or deep, just enough to get most of your boot wet if you stepped in it. I have to go looking for a while before I finally see her. It’s hard to put any details on a skeleton; it’s plain, old bones, something on the short side of just under 5 feet, though pretty clean for something stumbling around the woods. The skeleton has this lost and empty look to it, just sort of lurching around and looking just ahead of it. I stay far enough away that I don’t think it notices me, and consider taking it out for them. I decide I should get that ritual ready first and leave it be for now. I starting back towards the house when I start hearing some rustling in the grass. I turn around too late to realize that the skeletons don’t just shamble; they can sprint. I'm tackled to the ground and boney fingers pin down my wrists. The smell hits me and it's... flowery. Again, surprisingly clean, and up close, her bones don't really have any apparent rot or cracks beyond just being bones.
>Now... I'm not really sure how to describe being fucked by a skeleton. It's not even what you think it'd be, with a dick in the pelvis or anything. She sort of just frantically pulled my pants down, sat on my thighs, and started humping the space an inch or two away from my dick. I still stand by the idea that I was only hard from living with Scrappa for so long, and being expected to fuck as much as six times a day. There's sexy monsters living on my grounds, but come on. A man has his limits.
>The skeleton starts to make these moans... again, not what I expected from her. The noises are clearly feminine, and like a woman in the throes of ecstasy. Whatever she thinks she's doing, she's enjoying it. She's surprisingly strong and heavy for being literally bones, so I can't exactly escape, but she's not really hurting anything either. Her bony jaw hangs open as she starts to pant rapidly and... I see her face. It's a spectral glow, but it outlines a plump woman's features. The outline runs down her body and big breasts bounce on her chest. Wide hips grind along over the pelvic bone, and while still intangible, I can see where the would-be flesh would be grinding on my shaft. While I'm not quite penetrating the skeleton, the spirit inside seemed to think that I was. I decide to keep quiet and let her run with that train of thought rather than correct her.
>her vague moans turned into encouraging whispers in her ethereal voice. "Yes, yes," and "Harder! Please!" I start to move hesitantly, sliding into her slowly more and more visible body. It just makes her wilder, shouting and moaning as she grabs my hips rather than my wrists as if she's convinced I won't run at this point. I watch her rapidly appearing and disappearing shape ride on me, and I'm even starting to feel a faint pressure on my shaft in the last few moments. When she spasms with her orgasm (apparently I was hitting her metaphysical g-spot), and her pale form manifests in full. Enough to make out a fair-haired woman, short and chubby and looking in the ballpark of her early forties. She appears just long enough for her "o face" before there's a burst of cold liquid on my lap. She cums ectoplasm onto me, this silvery blue liquid that sticks to my skin, just to slowly vanish about a minute later. The skeleton's grip on me goes weak and she falls off of me into the dirt. The skeleton doesn't move for a bit, but the transluscent ghost form lingers longer.
>"That was the best time of my life," she wheezes, despite not having any breath to be out of. I tell her I have some bad news about that.
>The spirit is incredibly calmed down after her pseudo-sex (she only calls it "boning" once). The journals mentioned some ghosts could feed off of life force, like draining youth and beauty from women, and she seems a lot more lively and talkative as we go on, suggesting that she considered sex a sign of life. Or maybe it was the precum... like I said, she looked like a woman by the end and there was some kind of unseen pressure going on (look, I'm telling myself it wasn't necrophilia if I didn't initiate anything).
>I find her name was/is Abigail, and that she's been dead for about two hundred years. She was a lonely washerwoman who was lured out to these woods someone started strangling her from behind her (maybe fae or goblins, given the location). I talk her through it until I find her last thoughts were that she was going to die a virgin, which explains a lot. I get the working theory that she's a ghost using her old bones to move around, rather than a traditional skeleton. She's shown she can exit the skeleton (astral projection style) and let it drop to the ground, where the bones look a little more worn and old than when she's inside them. Ghosts are often bound by something, whether it's an event, motive, or an object. So... Abby's unfinished business was getting the D. It's no "avenge my wife's murder" level revenge story, but I guess it works.
>Abby's a bit harder to piece together what to do with than the rest. She doesn't really need for or anything, and the sex seems to have invigorated her rather than send her on to the afterlife. She says she's thinking more clearly and feeling stronger after our encounter, so it sounds like it's good for her. It sounds like as long as she's self-aware like this, I can convince her to leave the centaurs alone and talk to them about what's really going on. Abby's main problem is she had a lot of self-esteem issues back then. She's not bad-looking, but definitely a big woman and heavy on the freckles. I remember Scrappa and how she was just weeping with joy when I finally got her to think she was beautiful, and try applying a little of that.
>By the late afternoon, I've brought what I think is a more long-term solution. I take her back to the cabin and introduce her to Scrappa. She squints and looks at me funny for showing her a walking pile of bones, and I think it confirms that goblins have zero perception of the dead (or lacking a 6th sense, if you will). She doesn't see even the fully manifested Abby, even when she manages to lift and toss a rock with her spectral form. She agrees with me to give up a few things that she's not using, and to keep the kids from trying to eat her bones while I fetch some things. When I'm back, Abby's making the girls giggle by taking off her skull and tossing it around in a little show of dexterity. Pretty nimble for a dead woman.
>I give her a few skirts, a long dress I never got around to modifying for Scrappa, a bit of makeup, some underwear, and an old blonde wig from a Halloween long past that I didn't have the heart to trash for some reason. She puts on the dress and seems to appreciate the touch of femininity on her old naked bones. The last one was a bit trickier, but it looks like it will do the job; the books included some simple sigils, some kind of ancient markings that affect the metaphysical properties of objects. They can be made to burn the undead or detect the presence of certain creatures, so long as the marking stays in tact. Scrappa has a number of sex toys that she doesn't use much anymore, so I passed on onto her. Basically, one quick rune later and I have essentially invented the ghost dildo. I use it to tap Abby on the arm, and her eyes go wide at the implications and gladly takes it with her bundle of clothes.
>I take her back for one last trip before I come home to cook dinner. Sahara doesn't take up much space, but I'm not sure how Abby would fit in the house where the girls eat everything that doesn't move and fits in their mouths (there is no such thing as childproofing for hyper-learning, hyper-growing omnivorous goblins). I introduce her to the centaurs, who give her a sort of open door policy and offer to build her a hut some time soon. Along the way, I head down river with Abby to check out this lake. We swam there once or twice when I was young, but even in the Summer I was never super big on swimming. Thankfully, I don't remember anything about being pulled under by fairies
>There are a few of them buzzing around like shimmering dragonflies. They're human shamed with big eyes, each about the width of two toothpicks at any given point. There's just enough curve to their faces and chests to look female, but even nude it's hard to tell. They start to swirl around me curiously when I arrive and try to strike up a conversation. "I'm Steve. I live a little way over there, and I sort of own the property. I wanted to know if you girls-"
One of them bites me on the finger. I recoil from that and another one steals the button off my coat. A third steals the button off my pants. Three of them swarm down there, tugging at my pants with needly little teeth and strong little fingers. I felt like I'd been raped enough for one day, so I swat them away. One flies in front of my face and sticks her tongue and butt out at me, so I give her a flick that flings her into the water. I can see why the ladies asked me to talk to them. The books later confirm that these are pixies, basically the shitty kind of fairy. They're little balls of chaos and magic that just like to make pests of themselves.
>It takes some effort not to try and squash a few of them. I end up just walking Abby back to her general place to let her rest and play with her new toys. I head back and do some reading on how to deal with pixies while I cook up some spaghetti and warm up some bread for the family. The main thing I find is ways to bait them and how "cold" iron (basically anything with a high enough iron content) is the best way to deal with them. They're easily tempted or bribed with bread, milk, butter, alcohol, or jewelry, apparently. Pixies are too chaotic and dimwitted to ever create anything, and they're certainly not good with animals, so those creations are hard to come by. I cross-reference that with the fairies entry, and it shows how fae of all sorts will not break a bargain or else suffer mind-blowing pain that usually destroys them on the spot. It gives me one last idea.
>I head back out just before it gets dark with my flashlight and the tupperware. The pixies are easy to spot by night, like big feminine fireflies. They gather around the light for a bit, but then I crack open the tupperware a bit. They flood to it, only to find it too small to fit inside that crack. I've come armed not with iron, but with spaghetti, marinara, bread with disgusting amounts of butter on it, and a squeeze bottle of some whiskey we had leftover. They buzz around and grab at it, but I planned enough to wear thick gloves and keep the items tucked tight under my arm.
>"Leave the pond," I state clearly like there's extra weight to my words. "Go live upriver or deeper in the woods, and don't bother anyone." They freeze up and chitter something in their chirping little language. Everything just sounds like "pip!" to me. "Do that, and all this stuff is yours. I'll double it next month, and bring it again every month after. Is that a deal?"
>The dozen pixies hover in front of me, staring with their big, pupil-less eyes. They huddle up and give some more "pip pip!"s at each other before one floats up to me, nods firmly with her hands on her tiny hips, and holds out a hand. I take it between three fingers to shake it, and it feels like there's a tiny pricking on my hand. I pull it back and see what looks like a scratch from a thumbtack on my palm, a tiny drip of blood coming from it. The blood coats the lead pixie's hand, which she doesn't bother to wipe off and nods. "Done," she chirps in this hyper helium tone of voice. "Gimme." I make a quick head count and then pass off the goods. The pixies have to work together to carry it all, but they fly off like shots into the woods.
>It feels good to settle these kinds of things. I get back home and the kids all dogpile onto me, grabbing and kissing and wrestling me after missing me all day. I make sure everyone gets their hugs and kisses back, but they don't want to let go. I settle on just cuddling up on the couch and watching some cartoons with Scrappa and the kids. It's not until the kids are put to bed and I'm done having sex with Scrappa that I realize I've cleared out the lake and the girls have been pretty much cooped up in the house for their first few months... I wonder if stale pond water would be better for them than a bath

Let's Rap About Tags

So I found and started using the tags on this blog to help folks get around. They're listed at the end of each story, so not always the easiest to find when you want it. So thought I'd make this as a hub for the major tags, and define em while I'm at it.

Links for searching are going to be like so: http://luffy316.blogspot.com/search/label/wrestling  
but with the wrestling at the end replaced with whatever tag

News: boring stuff, important changes, commission or Patreon info... facts rather than stories
Wrestling: fighting focused around grappling, groping and throwing. Usually has elements of pro wrestling, sometimes apartment wrestling
Catfight: ladies get mad and attack. Much less formal than wrestling, which implies rules and a league or ref. Catfights tend to be rougher and involve more biting and clawing, hence the name.
Boxing: the ladies wear gloves and duke it out, or at least focus mainly on punches. More strike-based, but room for bearhugs and low blows.
Martial Arts:  more advanced fighting, with at least one fighter using more involved techniques, pressure points, or an overly practiced fighting style
Sexfight: where the expressed or unspoken goal is to make the other person cum or otherwise establish sexual dominance. Generally a bit more painless than regular fighting, but can go either way
Shortstack: miniature ladies, often goblins, gnomes, imps, yordles, or the like. The short part covers them being about 3 feet tall, the stack comes from them normally being sort of pudgy and hyper-curvy.


Announcers: the story includes someone narrating or discussing the fight, usually at ringside. The story might even be entirely told by those voices.
Ashley: also known as Mighty Ashley or Ashley's College Adventures. College girl is bullied through highschool until her friend invents a super strength serum that lets her get payback by beating and humiliating every bully she knows.
Bimbo: busty, ditzy, vain, and overly sexualized sort of women. They may be witless cheerleader types or simply women who wield that sexuality as a power over their surroundings.
Bloody: ladies are gonna be biting, clawing, hitting, maybe even stabbing hard enough to break the skin. 
Bodyswap: when someone's mind goes into someone else's body. Usually magic involved, and often a story of exploring their new body (often different gender, species or the like).
Celebrity: well known figures. Names that mean something to people (I assure you that I have to google most of them)
Competing: a fight over a prize, usually a guy.
DC: Power Girl, Wonder Woman, and other characters from the DC comics
Death: somebody's gonna die. Someone's getting choked or beaten to death or otherwise ended. Bit extreme for some folks, so they're usually labeled right up front.
Game of the Year: a commissioned series of short stories about a guy who creates an overly slutty character in his retro videogame, just to wake up with his mind inside her body. Pokes fun at beatemup games of the age and hentai games in general.
Genderswap: someone goes from being a male to female, or maybe vice versa. Usually magic or bodyswaps involved
Goblin: little green folks, usually dirty, stupid and panicky.
Goddess: deities getting involved, usually in some physical form
Group Fight: 3 or more fighters involved in a big brawl
Hellbridge: this super neat artist on Furaffinity and Deviantart who does furry boxing and wrestling art. I based some of the stories on his pics and send them to him/you to enjoy.
Interracial: fighters are of two different races. Black vs white, Asian vs Spanish, etc. Might get some slurs in there, or it may be coincidental.
Journal: a story written in the perspective of someone's journal entries.
Katsumi: a commissioned story of a spunky, sassy teen ninja has to defend her village, save her friends, or so on. Lots of humiliating martial arts moves used on otherwise tough women.
Kate Kinsley: an original story that started as a Scott Pilgrim genderswap parody (girl catfights seven evil ex girlfriends), but it became its own thing to a degree... fun story of love and acceptance and a quippy lesbian roommate
Naruto: anime about teen ninjas. Got a string of commissions about their ladies catfighting each other
Ninja: stealthy karate types. Katsumi and Naruto show up under this one
Nintendo: based on Nintendo characters, like from Mario, Legend of Zelda, or the like
One-Sided: a decisive winner of the fight throughout. Can be less of a match than it is a beating.
Original: something I came up with largely or entirely by myself. Fun and weird ideas since I've written so much of the regular stuff
Overwatch: shooting game from Blizzard that's pretty big right now. Bunch of weird characters, including "so many waifus"
Pain and Promotion: an old series I did, writing half and half with another buddy on Freecatfights. Basically follows two rookie wrestlers joining the big leagues and their own struggles as a heel and a jobber/face to advance in the league.
Pokemon: that thing where kids catch em all. Normally a fight between the girls from it and less so the actual pokemon... unless you're talking the Patreon story I started where the pokemon are actually sexy ladies.
Princess: Disney, video game, or otherwise royal types
Sarah: stories of a chubby, busty wife with a nephew who likes putting her into humiliating situations
Scrappa: a cute shortstack story of a guy moving into his grandpa's old cabin and finding a goblin living in the basement. He grows fond of her with sexy and romantic results as she becomes obsessed with him. It's broken up into parts/chapters here, or there's two "bulk" posts for free on the Patreon.
Sex:that thing where things go in vaginas that I've heard so much about. Normally straight, sometimes lesbian, but basically the story involves scenes that aren't all about fighting.
Videogame: the characters involved are in or from a video game. Chun-Li, Princess Peach, or some other original in-game setting
Water: takes place in a lake, rain, or pool for part of it.
Western: set in the old west, mostly Zhang-Oh stuff
Zhang-Oh: a Chinese martial artist in the old west. Turns bounty hunter when her sisters need avenging,

Dangan Ronpa Beach Fight commission

Past commission I forgot to post, another massive group fight, with the female cast of the video game Dangan Ronpa.  Similar to the beach fight prior (may have been the same customer...), the ladies fight very rough and there's a lot of fatalities along the way, if relatively "clean" and offscreen stuff (mainly drowning and choking). Promise some softer stuff coming soon!

"My my my! What a lovely sight this is! Fifteen bathing beauties laid out on the beach! Considering that plenty of them were dead not long ago, I'd say it's a real piece of Heaven out here... or is it a Hell? Well, let's not ask questions about how or why. Perhaps they should WAKE UP and find out already!!"

The girls all started to come to from all the racket. They had no memory of their immediate past, so they have no idea how they got here or who the others were. The ladies of Danganronpa were all laid out in the sand near each other, clad in skimpy swimsuits. The tide of the clean, clear water was whipping fiercely by the shore, cuing them to look around and realize they were on a rather small island. It was only home to the beach and a single mahogany tree. The whole surface could be covered in a few seconds, if you jogged.

Monokuma, the iconic black and white teddy bear, walked over the island, looking as smug as a devious toy could. "You're finally awake, you lazy bones! Don't go asking questions yet, because-"

"Where are we?" Kyoko demanded, looking around as she stood up and dusted some sand from her swimsuit.

"What are you all doing here?" Hiyoko asked, looking at the others strangely.

"Why is that bear talking?" Mikan pried as she walked casually towards the tree.

"When do we get to eat?" Ibuki added.

"Didn't I create you?" Junko asked, squinting thoughtfully at the strutting toy.

"I SAID ENOUGH QUESTIONS!" Monokuma blurted. "It's all very complicated and very, very logical, but you'll just hurt your heads thinking about it. So let me put this simply." He waved a paw around the island's majestic view; all clear and clean, untouched by man. "This island is perfectly deserted apart from you girls. I brought you here, and I am the only way off of here."

"Says you!" Aoi shouted at him, running to the edge of the beach. She gave a readying tug at the shoulder straps of her suit. "Maybe no one told you, but I'm the ultimate swimmer!" She dove gracefully into the water... and was immediately swept away. The tide didn't pull her out or push her in, but instead swept her straight to one side, leaving the busty, tanned girl to flail and shriek as she was forced through a few laps around the island.

"As I was saying, the riptide prevents anyone from coming or going from the island. There's no phones, no purses, no electronic devices. As it stands, I am your god for as long as you stay here!"

"Pretty funny-looking for a god," Chiaki huffed. "This is like that dumb American show."

"So what are you trying to make us do?!" Mahiru demanded. "Worship you?"

"Nothing so extravagant! I have places to be, after all. Sequels, movie deals, and all that. So instead... you'll simply fight to the death for me."

The girls hesitated and looked at the strangers surrounding them, right as Aoi was tossed back onto the shore, wet and sticky with sand. Toko turned with a bounce of long pigtails towards their strange host. "You can't expect us..."

"And why not? I'm the only sure way off this island. And it took a lot of doing to get you all here in one place. It's the least you could do to repay all that hard work. There's no food, no fresh water... only each other to hold you back."

The girls eyed each other grimly. His threats and logic were sinking in as he watched with passive amusement. Sayaka heard the sound of rapid steps on the sand, turning right before Junko tackled into her unannounced. The other girls gasped and jumped to their feet, seeing the threat was real as the bright-haired girl clawed and grabbed at the brunette.

"Just... ugh! Make it easy on yourself!" Junko growled as she tried to get her hands on Sayaka's neck. "Just roll over and die so I can go home!"

Celestia turned to glare at Sonia, making the one piece-wearing princess gasp and run away from the spiral-braided girl in her black bikini. They ran towards the middle of the island before they both suddenly vanished from sight in a puff of sand and leaves.

"Oh, and by the way! There's pit traps littered around the island, so don't try running too far. Otherwise, you'll just end up trapped with your enemy!" Monokuma went on. The shrieks came from within the pit as Celestia clawed at Sonia's face, but the princess grabbed and pulled back on the big braids of her attacker.

Akane tried to get a jump on Kyoko, just to be cut off by Mikan and Mahiru. "There won't be any kind of first aid to heal you when I'm done," giggled Mikan with a crooked grin.

"I'm not about to leave this island as a corpse either!" Mahiru insisted as she lunged for the busty gymnast. Akane sidestepped her and slammed a fist into the redhead's temple, knocking her silly next to her. Mika tackled into Akane instead, knocking her onto her back in the sand. Her tiny bikini didn't offer much cover as the wild-eyed girl's nails gouged into one of Akane's breasts to try to hold her steady. Akane screamed and thrashed, her cries quickly lost among the many shrieks and threats of the crowd of girls.

Peko backed away from her foes warily, hands up and ready to defend herself. Chiaki and Toko moved in on her, trying to outflank the silver-haired girl with her serious expression. "I'm used to fighting enemies with a sword, but..." She clenched her fist readily, but froze as she felt her foot slip.

"Now!" Chiaki and Toko charged for her, the geeky girls trying to double-team her. Peko was quick enough to realize she'd slipped on a pit trap, so she jumped and flipped backward to land on the other side. Chiaki and Toko weren't nearly so careful or graceful, so they immediately fell through the false piece of sand and crashed into the dusty pit together. Chiaki tried to stand up, just to step on Toko's pigtails. The writer paid her back with a yank down of her bikini bottoms, which Chiaki instinctively tried to pull back up. This was interrupted by Toko jamming her claws into the pink-haired gamer's pussy, gouging at the tender flesh and whatever drew out more painful screams from her fellow trap-mate.

Ibuki tried to make easy prey out of Aoi since she was freshly dumped out of the water. The athletic swimmer suddenly charged forward, knocking the knees out from under the punky girl and sending her spilling face first into the sand. Ibuki spat some of the clean, dry sand when Aoi's foot came crashing into the back of her head, making the musician shriek and curl up as the busty tanned girl stomped away at her. "Cheap shot me, will you!? Then you'll be the first to go, you poser punk!" she ranted as she tried to stomp and kick her right through the beach.

Kyoko and Hiyoko were already yanking on each other's long hair, yanking on braids and pigtails and whatever else they could dig their claws into. "That's not going to kill anyone," muttered Mukuro, the girls jumping in surprise as the soldier girl appeared behind them while they were distracted by their own violent squabbling. Mukuro grabbed the base of their necks and spiked their foreheads together, making the detective and dancer fall over with a pair of synchronized shriek. "But that's a start." She turned and stomped a foot down on Kyoko's stomach, grinding her heel into her guts as she screamed and grabbed at Mukuro's heel to try to ease up the pressure. Hiyoko dove at her other leg, desperately afraid of letting the soldier have her way with them. She hugged the slender limb and bit into Mukuro's calf, getting a pained shout as the so-far dominating girl went down. Her two latest victims quickly climbed onto her, trying to overpower her with their numbers as the bikini-clad girls fought savagely to survive.

Peko rushed over to the slashing and thrashing pile that was Sayaka and Junko, throwing a kick into Junko's face. The wild-haired girl flew off her victim of choice with a spray of saliva and blood from her lips where she'd bitten her tongue in the harsh soccer kick. Peko gave the startled and slightly confused Sayaka a brief glance before the swordswoman grabbed the dazed and groaning Junko and dragged her towards the tree by her tangled mass of pink hair. Peko smashed her face roughly into the wood twice, bloodying her nose with the brutal shoves against the hard trunk.

"Oho! Looks like first blood goes to Peko-chan! But can she finish the job?" Monokuma mused out loud. Peko was too caught up in her dirty work to bother listening to him, or to notice the dazed but angry Mahiru grabbing her by her bikini bottoms. Peko pulled away instinctively, but lost her bottoms in the process. She blushed and tried to cover up, but Junko found the moment of clarity in her throbbing head to punch the silvery swordswoman square in her pussy. The otherwise nimble and deadly girl let out a high, pathetic wail and fell right into the sand after that stunning sucker punch.

While Mahiru stood up with the stolen thong in hand, Sayaka grabbed her from behind. The pop star got her arm around the redhead's neck and squeezed as hard as she could. It was no professional chokehold, but it was enough to interfere with the photographer's breathing and trapping her in place. Mahiru grunted and squirmed, but neither was experienced enough to make much headway in strangling or escaping the other girl. The photographer started to kick at Sayaka's legs, the pop star falling to the sand but still holding onto Mahiru's neck. She managed to twist the tomboy's head to one side and drive punches into her tender neck muscles. "Just die already, you stubborn bitch!" Sayaka shouted in her ear.

Mukuro threw a palm strike into Hiyoko's chin, sending the dancer tumbling off of her. The soldier grabbed Kyoko by the cheeks next and gouged her thumbs into her eyes. The silver-haired girl shrieked as she shut her eyes to prevent any real damage, but the pressure still causing a throbbing pain through her skull. Hiyoko rubbed her jaw,  weighing her options before she ran off to leave the two to fend for themselves.

"You're pathetic," Mukuro commented dryly, shifting her position to end up behind the young detective with a chokehold, pressing down on her windpipe. "I have no idea why that creepy bear wasted time bringing you here just for me to kill you so easily..."

She heard a thick crunching noise as Junko punched Peko in the face, sending the swordswoman staggering weakly over them. Mukuro rolled quickly to one side to greedily finish her kill as their own fight went by, but Kyoko felt the movement and threw herself along with it to try to escape. They both felt the ground give way, emitting a sudden cry as they tumbled into the pit trap and landed with a dense, fleshy thump. Kyoko gasped as she felt Mukuro's grip go limp around her, just to look down and see the surprised soldier was knocked silly from the fall, crushed between the hard bottom and Kyoko's back. Rubbing her neck, the detective glared down at her and stomped her heel down just as Mukuro looked up. It broke her nose and cracked her skull hard enough to leave her dead at the bottom of the pit as Kyoko hurried to pull herself back out and into the fight.

"Ooooh! A surprising first point for Kyoko!" chimed Monokuma. "Who could have seen that coming? And against such a dangerous opponent... this may be a real gamechanger, folks!"

Akane twisted beneath the attacking Mikan, finally bending her acrobatic body enough to reach her legs around her head and throw her off. The nurse squeaked in surprise as she was not only removed, but found herself trapped in a vice-like scissor around her throat. She gasped, starting to claw and bite at Akane's thighs to try and escape, but the toned legs gave her little purchase against the hard muscles. "Relax!" Akane hissed at her. "At least you're dying in style! There's boys that would pay good money to be in the position you're in!" The grip was tight, but Mikan was still struggling more than she'd like, so she rolled over until she was not only trapped in the scissor, but her face dunked into the very edge of the wet sand and tide to both choke and drown her.

In one of the other pits, Sonia and Celestia were torn between hurting each other and escaping their hole. Sonia had sat on Celestia's back, pulling back on her hair drills like reins. As soon as she tried to climb back out by digging her fingers into the thicker sand and soil, the gambler just grabbed her bikini bottoms and pulled back down, tearing them off in the process.

"Just let me get out and then I'll help you out next!" Celestia insisted, kicking at Sonia's chest to try to use her breasts as a step stool.

"You absolutely will not! I'm getting out first!" insisted the princess, clawing at her leg and pulling back down on it. They both cringed as a sudden burst of water and sand came down on their heads, leaving them chilly and dirty. "Wha... what was that?" Sonia asked warily.

"By the way!" Monokuma called to the brawling girls who cared to listen. "Little island like this, the tide's nothing normal. It can come and go in and out almost as it pleases!" The two competing girls stared at each other, briefly considering cooperation before they just fought that much harder with each other.

Ibuki was squirming less and less under Aoi's foot

when Peko, reduced to all fours from Junko's low blows and punches, was kicked into her and knocked her off balance. "Hey! Watch it! I was about to finish this bitch off!" Aoi barked at Peko, grabbing her by the bikini top and pulling her up. The top snapped off in her grip, but Aoi shrugged and shoved her back towards the approaching, angry Junko. The pink-haired beauty threw a punch for the dazed Peko's face, but she mustered the strength to duck under it. Junko stumbled out of control towards the water, unable to turn before Peko grabbed her by the hair and bent her over backward. The panicked Junko fell right over and felt a sickening crack from her spine as it landed on Peko's knee, dislocating her back and paralyzing her on the spot.

"AHHHHH! I can't move! I can't walk!" Junko wailed, flailing her arms weakly.

"Good," Peko growled, grabbing her by the hair and throwing her the rest of the way into the ocean. The tide instantly swept her up, and Junko could only stay afloat with a broken back for so long before she vanished under, a few bubbles coming up while Peko watched her last moments before she drowned. She couldn't enjoy it for long before Hiyoko jumped onto her back, arms wrapping around her neck.

Not far off, Mikan finally fell limp between the choking and drowning, the twisted nurse dead between Akane's legs. She checked a pulse quickly, realized she didn't know how to do it very well, and decided she was dead, appreciating the irony of the usefulness of a nurse being around to check. She looked up and saw Aoi finishing her own bout, her heel pressed into Ibuki's windpipe. The mouthy rocker's eyes bulged as her claws got weaker and weaker at Aoi's ankle, but she pulled on the swimmer's leg to bite into her toes. Aoi screamed and recoiled, letting Ibuki roll up to her knees and cough as she held her throat.

Aoi moved to try to finish her again, but the rocker punched her right below the belly button. The tanned and busty girl bent over, holding her tender stomach in surprise as Ibuki leapt onto her, grabbing her by the hair and beating Aoi's skull into the sand. The beach was clean and pure, so it caused a mess more than it hurt as the sand clung to Aoi's dark hair.

"You tried to kill me, you little shit!" Ibuki ranted at her victim. Aoi coughed and kicked at her, but the bouncing of her head was making it hard to see and Ibuki's nails were leaving scratches over her cheeks. Aoi finally got her aim solid enough to grab Izumi by the chest, sneaking her fingers under the punk's top and stabbing her nails into her tit flesh. Ibuki shrieked and tried to pull away, just leaving more pinching scratches on her pale chest.

"I'll try harder this time," Aoi snarled back. Ibuki grabbed the tan girl by her bigger breasts, trying to squeeze back but starting too late to catch up. Ibuki soon tried to pull away, tears in her eyes as she swung her fists wildly at Aoi. The swimmer rose up and slammed her forehead into Ibuki's face, getting a stream of blood to run from the musician's nose. Ibuki fall on her side, sputtering and spitting out blood when she looked up again, just in time to see Aoi stand up and stomp her heel down onto her opponent's throat. Ibuki let out one wet gasp as her windpipe was crushed, twitching a few times before falling utterly limp and lifeless.

Aoi put her hands on her barely-covered hips proudly when Akane suddenly tackled her from behind. "How about a quick dip, you slutty dyke!?" she bellowed, the two splashing down into the waters. They tumbled over each other, big boobs bouncing around like crazy before the tide overcame them, ripping them away into the wildly spiraling course.

"Not agaaaain!" Aoi wailed, flailing around to try to stay afloat. She managed to latch onto Akane's top, tearing it off as she pulled herself into her opponent. "This is your fault, you big ugly cow!"

"Cow!? You're the one with the fat saggy udders here!" Akane attacked her right back, clawing at Aoi's own tanned breasts and top as they were whirled around the island's waters.

Chiaki and Toko still brawled around their pit until Toko caught Chiaki by the hair. "I think your story's gone on long enough," growled the writer, using her grip to drag the gamer girl's face across the rough dirt walls of their trap. It smeared dirt and blood across Chiaki's cheek before she managed to catch her hands on the wall almost almost a full circling of its surface. She turned and slammed her heel into Toko's side, making her release Chiaki and letting her turn all the way around to kick her in the pussy. The writer let out a howl as she fell to her knees clutching her crotch, Chiaki stepping off her face to boost off and manage to catch the edge of the pit, dragging herself back out.

For all her struggling, Mahiru was unable to get herself out of Sayaka's chokehold. The choke was poor enough that it didn't finish her as quickly as the pop star would like, giving Mahiru time to turn herself around and slam her back into the big tree. Sayaka cried out as her back and head hit the hard wood, letting go as Mahiru spun around and punched her across the face. Sayaka nearly fell over when Mahiru caught her by one of her breasts, digging her nails painfully into the soft skin and holding her up as the bikini top fell apart in her grip. The tomboy reporter gripped the top in her angry fist as she started to throw punches rapidly into Mahiru's face, rapidly bruising and bloodying the pop star's pretty features with her knuckles.

"Still think you're hot shit, you little slut!? Let's see how many boys want your pretty little corpse!" Mahiru ranted, caught up in her vengeful bloodlust. She didn't expect Kyoko to pop up from the nearby pit and grab her ankle, pulling the reporter girl back a foot or so from her victim. Mahiru reacted quickly, turning on one foot to kick the young detective in the jaw and send her flopping back into her pit trap. She looked back up to find Sayaka waiting for her with a broken-off branch, smashing the redhead across the face. Mahiru fell to her knee, but rolled aside from a second swing of the flimsy club.

Mahiru yanked the simple weapon out of Sayaka's hand and rammed it up between her legs, getting a shriek of pain from her as she clutched her pussy. The pop star awkwardly waddled off, trying to bolt around the tree to escape her wrath and regroup for an attack of her own. Seeing no better chance, Mahiru dropped the stick and removed her own bikini top, trying it together with Sayaka's. When the pop star vanished behind the tree, Mahiru quickly looped the tied together tops around the tree and pulled back hard. While neither of them knew much about strangleholds, Mahiru didn't need to be the ultimate soldier to know how to choke her to death with the wire-like top. Sayaka's head hit the tree, stunning her as she made a few helpless gasping noises from the top gouging into her throat. If anyone noticed the pop star choking to death against the tree, no one stopped it until her lifeless body sagged and pulled down on the makeshift rope.

"We're down to ten, ladies! Love that moxy! Love that bloodlust!" Monokuma chimed. "Who's going to be the one to make it off the island of death?!"

Aoi and Akane were a frantically splashing mess out in the waters, trying to stay up while also trying to push the other down. Aoi dunked Akane under the whipping waters, driving a knee into her face. The water slowed the blow down enough that it didn't knock her out, so Akane pulled down on the ultimate swimmer's leg to bring her under with her. Akane pinched and pulled on her nipples, pulling up to stretch the tan girl's big tits out painfully. Her scream only escaped as a dulled ringing and a burst of bubbles. Akane poked her head back above water for a quick gasp of air, dragging Aoi by the boobs with her. The thrashing swimmer finally burst through the surface for air, Akane punching her in the nose as she did.

"Should have stayed down and saved yourself the trouble!" Akane barked at her.

"YOU should have kept your head under so we don't have to see your ugly face!" Aoi shouted back. She twisted her body to use her swimming expertise to her advantage, moving with the wild tide and repositioning herself for a spin kick to Akane's head. The gymnast stumbled and dipped into the water briefly, but she reached back up and grabbed Aoi by the foot. Akane popped back up to the surface, grabbing both of Aoi's legs in the process. Akane pulled up sharply, flipping the tanned and busty swimmer upside down into the water. Her feet kicked and pulled against Akane's grip, but she just shoved Aoi deeper into the water. With her finally low enough, Akane even started driving her heel into the curvy athlete's crotch. The bubbles of her screams popped up among the foam and froth of the rapids, but she couldn't manage to overturn Akane's drowning hold on her. When Akane was finally tossed back onto the shore (which was notably higher than it was a few minutes ago), it was next to the soggy corpse of Aoi.

The tide was bringing the water and sand into some of the closer pits by now, and Celestia and Sonia were inside one of those holes. Neither was able to make the short climb out with the other clawing and pulling on them, so they both shrieked at the first wave of sea water came down on their heads.

"You fucked us!" Celestia hissed at her. "You screwed this up by holding me back!"

"You're the one who chased me in here, you idiot!" Sonia snapped back, stomping her royal foot on the sand and creating a splash as it hit the slowly rising water. She slapped Celestia across the face and tried to hop up to climb again, the but muddy walls were even harder to grip now.

"If I can't get out, I'm sure as hell not letting you go," Celestia insisted, grabbing Sonia in a bearhug from behind. The princess shrieked and started to claw at her arms and kicked at her legs in a panic.

"You stupid... you'll drown us both!" she barked at the gambling girl. When she still didn't let go, the dainty blonde twisted and smashed her elbow into the braided girl's jaw. Celestia let out a thick grunting noise, holding her face as she let go to nurse her bitten tongue and split lip. Sonia wasted no time in turning around, the water up to their knees as she grabbed the brunette by the throat and pushed her by it into the walls of their trap. Celestia gagged and squirmed, clawing at Sonia's wrists. She tried to kick at her, but the growing water took away most of her momentum. All it did was scrape her toenails across Sonia's legs, and the princess with her death glare and grit teeth made her immune to any such puny attacks. Even Sonia's fists beating on her arms didn't do anything to deter the enraged princess from choking the life out of her foe in order to survive.

The pit finally filled up, allowing the tide to move beyond it. Sonia came floating out of it, paddling onto the shrinking main island as she let go of the makeshift raft that was Celestia's floating corpse.

Hiyoko was still struggling to get a good grip on Peko, the silver-haired girl turning and thrashing to keep the dancer barely hanging onto her back. When she slowed for a moment, Chiaki suddenly jumped on Hiyoko's back. While it distracted Peko's attacker, it also doubled the weight she had on her back. Peko could only stagger a few more steps before she collapsed beneath her two opponents, becoming an unwilling human battlefield for the two clawing and fighting girls.

Hiyoko scratched across Koyoko's Chiaki's breast, leaving several bright red claw marks and tearing her top off with it. The fresh wounds stung from all the sand and salt water around them. Chiaki punched her in the stomach, but the dancer still pounced at her to try to tackle her to the ground. Chiaki held her ground by digging her knees into the sand (or rather, one into the sand and one into Peko's stomach). When Hiyoko looked back up at her, the gamer girl punched her in the face to send her stumbling flat onto her back. Unfortunately for the pinned Peko, this put the dancing girl's butt right into her face; not enough to smother her out, but enough to humiliate the swordswoman. Chiaki hopped onto her downed opponent, grabbing Hiyoko's wrists and pinning them to the sand.

Hiyoko growled and squirmed, but she was effectively sandwiched between the two other fighters. "So what?! You let go of me for a second and I will end you, geek!" Hiyoko threatened, spraying spittle from her mouth. "How are you planning to finish me without your hands?!"

Chiaki glared back at her for a moment before she lunged forward, opening her mouth wide and biting into Hiyoko's throat. She clamped down but didn't pull, not confident that she'd have the jaw strength to rip her throat right out. She was, however, sure that she could bite down on Hiyoko's windpipe long and hard enough to strangle her with her mouth. The dancer tried to scream and pull free, but she was stuck in place by Chiaki's hands and body, and the scream was blocked by her grinding teeth. She gasped and wheezed pathetically, clawing at the sand for any way to drag herself to freedom and safety, staring wide-eyed at the savagely attacking Chiaki. The gamer just dug her nails into Hiyoko's tits for a better grip, keeping her pinned like a she-wolf in place until the life left her eyes and she couldn't feel a heartbeat any longer.

Chiaki lifted her head back up, drooling from her extended bite as she breathed heavily, looking with a twisted pride at her kill... just before Peko shove Hiyoko's body off of her and punched the gamer in the face.

With Sayaka dead on the other side of the tree, Mahiru turned to look with concern at the water. There were fewer girls, which was taking up less space, but the rising tide was moving it closer to them as it ate up the sand.

"Watch where you're looking!" Kyoko barked, right as she tackled into Mahiru's side. The redhead went down with a pain jolting through her ribs, the detective pounding her fists wildly onto her downed opponent. Mahiru tried to roll one way, then the other, with the second attempt thumping Kyoko's head against the tree. Mahiru tried to rise up to her feet and stomp her, but the pain in her ribs made her wince just by getting to her knees. She needed a minute to regain her breath and focus on ignoring the pain, but there wasn't any way she'd get past Kyoko long enough without just attracting the other girls. She saw the only way away from them... was up. She reached up and caught a branch, deciding the ache of climbing was going to be better than continuing to fight the other survivors.

"Hey! You're not getting away that easy," growled the dizzied Kyoko, grabbing another branch just below Mahiru and giving chase.

Sonia came rushing across the sand, looking to ambush Chiaki and Peko when she suddenly jerked to a stop and fell on her butt. Toko had managed to poke her upper half out of her pit trap, grabbing Sonia by the edge of her bikini bottoms.

"Ahh! Let go, you perv!" she cried, wriggling and trying to break free without properly losing her bottoms, even if her ass was already sticking well out of it. She looked up to realize that Akane had noticed their struggle and charged right for them. Sonia squeaked and make a split-second decision to bail on the situation, diving for cover and avoiding Akane's kick. It did end up with Sonia stepping around out of her hanging bottoms, the princess' bare ass sticking up in the air while Akane was left to kick Toko in the head by mistake (not that Akane objected at all).

Toko landed back at the bottom of her pit, the sea water rushing in more rapidly as the tide rose even higher. "Hey! Get me out of here!" she barked, but the girls naturally ignored her angry demands.

Akane smirked down at her before looking over to the waves, noticing that they were eating up more and more of the island now. She looked up to see Kyoko and Mahiru climbing the tree and took a page from their book. "Later, bitch," she laughed, stomping on the edge of the pit trap. A large clump of the wet sand fell down onto Toko, making her sputter as she was half-buried in the soggy substance. She clawed to try to drag herself out, hoping she could still make it out in time to get her payback. She saw Sonia peek over the edge of the pit, waving her hand and about to shout at her to help her... just to realize she was still waving around the princess' bikini bottoms. Sonia gave another few stomps at the edge of the pit, dumping even more sand over Toko until it covered her face. Her hands grabbed and clawed above the surface for a few seconds until some dry, sputtering coughs came muffled from inside and her hands fell limp, smothered out by the sand.

Peko bashed Chiaki in the face again, knocking her clean off of her own body. The swordswoman tried to charge her, but the downed Chiaki grabbed a handful of sand (even though she would have preferred a rock) and threw it into Peko's face. The pigtailed fighter cried out, her eyes watering from the faceful of salty sand, but Chiaki decided to leave the water to deal with her while she started up the tree.

Peko lost track of Chiaki as she vanished up the tree, but she caught the moving blur of Sonia as she tried to reach it as well. Peko grabbed for her, just to catch her by the back of her swimsuit. "Not agaiiin!" the princess moaned, managing to kick Peko in the stomach and break free. This too cost her the bikini top, allowing her to scramble naked up the tree behind the rest of the girls. Peko was left stumbling back, holding half a swimsuit as she fell back into the water. The whirling waters tossed her around, with Peko barely able to stay above the water at times. The water's edge soon reached the tree itself, with Peko diving to try to catch a branch... just for the tide to whip her to one side and smash her skull against the base of the hard trunk. Peko gave a soft gasp before falling limp, unable to keep herself afloat as the water swallowed her up.

Mahiru kept a slight head start on the rest of them, kicking at branches and Kyoko's fingers to slow them down. "Quite the view up here!" boasted an obnoxious voice above her. She glared up at Monokuma, who sat with his legs crossed at the highest branch of the tree. He'd hurried up there some time ago when the tide started coming in, acting as if he'd been waiting patiently for them.

"Shut up, you stupid... thing!" Mahiru snapped at him, stomping a branch off the tree to pelt Kyoko with bark and twigs. Some got into Kyoko's eyes as she shrieked and lost her grip, falling down into the next-highest girl. Her weight slammed right into Chiaki, the two of them smashing through some of the thinner branches and bouncing painfully off the thicker ones before they splashed into the water. The two struggled briefly, clawing at each other to try to boost their way back up the tree. They were too busy fighting each other to make any real headway, and the whirlpool growing around the tree tossed them in opposite directions. The screaming, cursing fighters made a few forced laps around the island's last landmark before they smashed into each other, bare breasts crushed together before they both grabbed onto the other, trying to float but too weak to keep from sinking into the depths.

Akane found herself in a tight spot, or one slightly worse than she one she'd been in for the last half hour or so. She was caught with Mahiru above her, kicking and stomping at her face and tits as she tried to climb and escape the rising tide. Sonia was right below her, catching up to her slow ascent and grabbing at her legs and hips for balance. With fewer branches the higher up they got, Akane found herself with Sonia digging her nails into her butt as a handhold.

Akane finally got high enough to grab for Mahiru. The redhead pulled her leg back, avoiding being snatched herself, but Akane's real target was the branch she was standing on. She pulled down hard on it, and Mahiru heard a heart-stopping crunch as her only foothold vanished. She screamed as she fell from the peak of the tree, grabbing for branches but going too fast to stop. She caught Sonia by her foot to stop herself, almost tugging the princess right off with her. Mahiru pulled herself up beside her, biting into Sonia's foot like it was just another handhold. Sonia shrieked and stomped on her head, all while trying to avoid Akane's own kicking foot. Mahiru managed to drag herself up, diving with a murderous look in her eye. Sonia managed to grab another branch and swing herself over there instead, leaving Mahiru's own lunge to send her tumbling off the tree. The branches scratched and hammered her on the way down, bruising her up before she crashed into a thick enough branch to catch herself, winded and far below the others, but still in the fight.

Akane reached a point in the tree where she had some space to move, but Sonia became level with her a few feet off. Akane kicked Sonia in the breasts, getting a grunt from  the pretty blonde. Sonia hooked her arm on another branch to steady herself and swung a kick up into Akane's naked crotch, her own bottoms torn away by various clawing, branches and strong tides.

"Get off! Just die!" Sonia screamed at her as Akane tried to protect herself. When Sonia just leaned in and clawed at her, the tanned gymnast saw no reason left to defend and punched the princess in the belly.

"Go to hell with the rest of those dirty skanks!" Akane snarled. She scratched Sonia across the face, leaving bloody streaks with her nails. Sonia just grabbed the trunk of the tree and kicked into Akane's legs, sending her off balance and tumbling off of her branch. Sonia grinned with pride at her clever strike, but Akane finally had a place to use her gymnastics. She caught a branch right below her, using it to spin back up. Rather than sitting back on her branch, she used the momentum to do a spinning kick right into Sonia's pussy.

The blonde gasped and clutched her crotch, crossing her legs in a way that happened to hang on tight to her branch. Akane climbed onto the same limb as her, punching Sonia in the face while the princess slapped back at her. The jiggling gymnast went blow for blow with her a while the two aching, angry, and terrified girls throwing everything they had at each other. Sonia eventually dove in to sink her teeth into Akane's tit, grinding the soft flesh in her jaws. The tanned girl screeched in pain, trying to pull back while beating her fists on the teary-eyed Sonia's head.

"Let go, you royal cunt!" Akane demanded, but the princess was locked on like a pit bull. Akane reached down to dig her nails into her open pussy lips, scratching at her twat as Sonia moved her hand between her legs to match her. It was becoming clear they were at a bitter stalemate, and it would be whoever got lucky first. Akane was in better shape in terms of her fitness, but she had been fighting and swimming much more than Sonia was, the princess secluded in a smaller brawl inside her pit trap for most of the fight.

"Spoiled little shit!" Akane growled as she dug her thumbnail into Sonia's clit.

"Cow-titted cunt!" Sonia howled back, even the petite girl's face twisted in pain and fury. Akane tried to shove her off of her breast, almost surprised when it worked. Sonia slid back, the branch leaving some splinters in her thighs that she had to ignore for now. Her back hit the trunk of the tree, stinging her spine but she used it to brace herself for her next attack. Akane tried to pounce on her to throw her off once again, but Sonia kicked out with both feet at once.

Akane grunted, falling back but lunging over to grab Sonia in a bearhug. Sonia freed a hand to shove and claw at the gymnast's face, but their combined weight proved to be too much for the branch they were using as balance. It cracked loudly and dumped them down, crashing through what few branches remained on the tree. They were too busy trying to end the other before they landed to grab onto anything, and even when one snagged a branch, they were just pulled down by the other fighter's weight.

They only stopped when something caught Akane by the hair, only to realize it was Mahiru. She clearly struggled to hold up the two girls by a fistful of hair, but she wanted to see them suffer before they got their bitter end. "I told you I'd be the only one left," she hissed at them, the two girls desperately grabbing for the branch that the freckled girl hugged onto. The awkward angle made it too hard to reach, but Sonia was able to reach Mahiru's arm. She grabbed on and dug her nails into her forearm, getting a scream from her. Mahiru tried to recoil, but Akane caught her other arm and pulled. The two were determined to bring her down with them, more concerned with killing her than genuinely winning the fight.

The three remaining girls fell screaming the rest of the way into the water. Their hands grabbed and left a few desperate scratches over the tree's bark, but the violently whipping seawater saw that they gagged and drowned, sinking under its fierce tide.

Monokuma peeked curiously from his perch at the top of the tree. "Hmm. I didn't see that coming. So eager to kill that they forgot to save themselves, I suppose. Ah well. More leg room for me on the helicopter."