Henero Media and Le Fetiche Present: Birtha the Strongwoman

So I got hired on by a group called Henero Media a few months back. Basics as I understand it, they're trying to make big hentai/ecchi/smutty comics, games and stories to give us commission writers and artists a cozy spot to work out of and give folks bigger projects rather than whatever we can throw together. They're not producing too much yet, but I was hired on to write scripts for a circus-themed dating sim and a comic about a shortstack Frankenstein's monstergirl. I got their permission to post the scripts for the few scenes I wrote before they slowed down to regroup on their budget, so I thought I'd share what I did for them and get them a bit of a boost. And hey, if they get enough money, they can afford these sweet wordomancy skills again!
  
This one's a variously erotic show by their musclebound Russian weightlifter, who happens to be fucking the shortstack clown that announces her shows. They were a real cute couple I really approved of in the cast...  and again, commissioned and permitted to use by https://www.patreon.com/heneromedia

Show starting at 01PM (Birtha: The World's Strongest Woman)
Featured Acts [Birtha, Rosey]
Summary of the act: Birtha uses her massive muscles for feats of incredible sexual strength. Performed alongside her wife, Rosey the clown.
- Event sequence start -
(action): Rosey the clown is the first to step into view. She's a short redhead clad in a skimpy outfit, showing off a lot of chalk-white makeup all over her body and a pair of tits that looked like they belonged to a woman twice her height. The crowd claps and whistles for her as she waves and smiles sweetly before address her microphone.
(Rosey) dialogue: "Thank you all for coming! So good to see you all today! Always love a big audience. El Fetiche just loooves those who like to watch!"
(action): Rosey winks to the audience to emphasize her innuendo."
(Rosey) dialogue: "So I won't keep you from our show any longer. Let me introduce you to the strongest, and in my opinion sexiest woman in El Fetiche AND the world! Hailing from Humpanov, Russia, I present to you: BIRTHA!"
(action): The next woman to step out is a towering brunette, seven feet tall at least. Every part of her is visibly filled with muscles, even her round and perky breasts. She certainly LOOKS the part of the strongest woman in the world in her revealing one piece swimsuit that shows off her iron-like abs.
The brawny Russian starts flexing and posing through the applause, letting the audience get plenty of good looks at her impressive mountain of a body. Every time she brings her arm close to her chest, her big biceps and breasts inevitably collide in a meeting of soft but firmly flexing flesh.
Rosey has wheeled out a pushcart while Birtha was posing, loaded with various weights and heavy sextoys with a large scale mounted in the middle. Rosey pushed it with some visible effort until Birtha turns and yanks it the rest of the way over with a quick tug. Rosey gives her an appreciative (and jiggly) little nod before stepping back.
Birtha steps up to the cart, considers the barbells a bit, and then sets a large iron one on the scale. The digital scale shows it as 100 pounds before she grabs one in each arm, pumping them rapidly. The crowd whistles, at the very least since her breasts bulge up and down as she works the small but dense weights up and down. Birtha tips her head at Rosey, who steps up to hold a microphone high into the air for her to use.
(Birtha) dialogue: "You all impress too easy."
(action): The crowd laughs as she returns to the scale, setting down one of the larger barbells. It shows 200 pounds, but then she piles on more and more weights. Soon it's loaded with metal rings and showing it as 800 pounds. Birtha just takes a quick breath, sending a small ripple through her breasts and muscles, then grabs it in both hands and lifts it up to her chin. The crowd enters a few more outbursts as she hefts it, the bulge of her various muscles making it clear that it takes some effort, but Birtha smirks and hardly seems to sweat from the feat of strength. At one point she lifts it high over her head, holding it there as her breasts and muscles bulge from the stretching of her intensely built body. Rosey even steps in under the raised barbell to lovingly caress Birtha's impossibly hard abs and taut thighs. It gets a smile from the weightlifter, but her strength doesn't falter.
(Rosey) dialogue: "You look like you could use a snack, hon."
Rosey goes behind the cart of props, coming back with a few large pieces of fruit. She tosses a grapefruit to Birtha, which she catches in one hand. She promptly crushes it until the juice bleeds out between her fingers and the pulp hits the floor. Rosey tosses her another, and then another. This time, Birtha catches them both, skillfully balancing them between her biceps and forearms. Showing exceptional control, she bounces her biceps to roll the grapefruits around showily. Finally, she finishes these like their predecessor, lifting and flexing her arms hard enough to pop them between her dense muscles.
Rosey grabs a watermelon that’s half as big as she is. She clearly struggles to heft it up, and Birtha has to reach out and take it from her with ease. You think you know where this is going, having seen women crush melons between their thighs online. Birtha instead holds it up between her huge breasts, flexing her chest and arms so that her breasts hold the melon up. She removed her hands to show that her pecs and tits alone are holding it up, getting some cheers and hoots from the crowd. You can see a bit of effort in her expression, but she still smiles showily. At last, she gives a loud, angry grunt and clenches her shoulders. The melon pops in between her jugs as if it had been hit by a hammer.
Rosey passes Birtha a towel, which she uses to both wipe up most of the juices that make her muscles glisten. The clown also brings over a long dildo with a weighted base. It makes it stand straight up when Rosey secures it to the ground, all while Birtha goes back to her overloaded barbell. The Russian takes a moment to pull aside the crotch of her costume, baring her snatch to the crowd and getting a bunch of quick whistles and cheers.
Birtha takes the barbell across her shoulders this time, returning to her position in the center of the stage by Rosey. Birtha stands over the dildo and starts doing squats that slide the dildo in and out of her. The crowd picks up its enthusiasm even further as she performs even more sexual feats of strength, fucking herself on the phallus to the rhythm of her clanking weights. Rosey watches her with an obsessive stare and a delighted smile, even rubbing her thighs together as she sees her burly wife at work. Birtha's last lift takes her all the way down as she takes the shaft all the way inside her, holding it there for a moment to turn and plant an assertive kiss to Rosey's mouth. Rosey finally parts from the kiss and carefully climbs onto Rosie’s back, adding even more weight on Birtha’s shoulders. She still lifts herself back up, leaving the mounted dildo slick with her juices. Rosey wraps an arm around Birtha's neck, posing for the crowd as she rides on the strongwoman's broad shoulders. Birtha does a couple more reps before she sets the barbell back on her cart.
Birtha flexes one arm, and Rosey is quick to lovingly squeeze and rub the hard bulge of her bicep. Birtha keeps the arm flexed as she leans to one side, making Rosey slide down her arm. The clown grabs her forearm to catch herself, but she gives a pleased little squeak as she ends up planting her crotch right on top of her wife's bicep. Her body bounces a few times, but then you realize that it's from Birtha flexing her muscles beneath her. Rosey seems to absolutely love it as she holds Birtha's arms tightly, kissing the Russian bride's fingertips with a lusty, wide-eyed stare. Rosey starts grinding her hips, riding the curve of Birtha's muscles with obvious arousal.
Birtha watches Rosey ride her arm until she reaches around with her other hand. The clown raises her ass to let Birtha's strong hand slide under her hips, pulling aside the bottom of Rosey's leotard and rub at her pussy. It's impressive enough that she's holding her up with one arm, but then she palms Rosey's crotch and lifts her up in her hand. Rosey keeps humping as she seems to get more and more aroused by the feat of strength until Birtha is literally holding up Rosey with one finger. The busty little clown sits like a busty popsicle skewered on the flexing index finger that supports her entire weight. Rosey starts to moan and grind faster, riding the finger as if she were getting fucked cowgirl position.
(Rosey) dialogue: "Ohh! Ohhhh! Ahhhhhhn!"
(action): The lady clown finally cums hard, screaming through a passionate orgasm over her wife's powerful hand. Birtha kisses her deeply, tongues rolling together just outside their lips before she set down her wife.
(Rosey) dialogue: "Let’s hope you’re not too wet for this next part.”
(action): Rosey giggles as she steps back helps Birtha slowly pull off her outfit. It's dark in spots from Birtha's sweat and pussy juice by the time that Rosey carries it off to the cart. Birtha reaches over to take one of the small but hefty weights (the scale shows it at 75 pounds) and placing it between her damp thighs. It looks as if she's going to hold them up by flexing her legs, but instead she lifts it even higher. The handle of the weight wedged between her pussy lips, and you can see her abs tense as the flexes her vaginal muscles to clamp around it. She slowly withdraws her hand, letting the crowd see her holding up the dense little dumbbell with nothing but her pussy. She even flexes her groin, making the weight dip in and out of her slightly from the small but powerful muscles at work.
Birtha steadies her breathing for a bit before she gestures for Rosey to come over. The curvy little clown comes over, lugging a heavy metal weight onto the scale (25 pounds, apparently). She drags it over to set in front of Birtha, then another just like it, all while Birtha keeps pumping the dumbbell with her snatch and giving off the occasional grunt. Whether they're from pleasure or effort isn't clear. Birtha squats down so that Rosey can reach her, the clown hoisting one up to Bertha's chest. The crowd mutters and gasps as they see what's happening; Rosey attaches a sturdy metal clamp onto each of her nipples, each linked by a chain to the weights. Birtha gives a soft inhale with each one being linked into place, but she stands back up with a triumphant, husky grunt. The weights clink together, but her tits remain proudly upright, the pectorals flexed tightly around her chest. STILL the weight remains in her pussy, showing her incredible stamina, durability, and muscle control all in one complex stunt.
Birtha finally lowers herself to let Rosey remove the clamps, the weights thudding heavily on the ground as the crowd applauds.
(Birtha) dialogue: "Hoo! So much praise for Birtha from pretty audience! Is getting Birtha very excited, my love!"
(Rosey) dialogue: "Teehee. Then let me get your favorite toy."
(action): Rosey fetches what appears to be a perfectly normal iron rod, as thick around as your fist. Rosey whacks it against one of the weights to give a convincingly dense clang before she runs it teasingly up Birtha's body. The mountain of a woman purrs as it traces up her pussy, abs, and breasts, finally brushing against her chin. Birtha takes it from there, taking the metal pole and with a visible (but seemingly effortless) bulge of her muscles, she slowly bends the bar into a near perfect semicircle. The crowd claps as if that was the entire trick, but then Birtha holds it out in front of her and pushes it forward.
The angle makes the opposite end dip right into her pussy, apparently bent to the exact angle she needed to pleasure herself. The dark metal pushes in and out of her folds, Birtha moaning and shutting her eyes as she fucks herself with the same prop she just used to show her incredible strength. The end of the metal pole is soon wet with her juices, and she squeezes her handhold on it until it starts to bend even further in her exhibitionist lust. With a hearty growl, she finally cums all over the stage, squirting hard as you see her thighs clench together around the pole. Between that and her strong hands, the rod bends into a crude knot as it yields to her strength.
(Rosey) dialogue: "Phew! Lucky you folks in the front row, this isn't the one of those 'you will get wet' shows."
(action): Rosey gets a few laughs from that.
(Rosey) dialogue: "So, my buff babe! Do we have anything else we can treat them to instead?"
(action): Birtha removed the pole from herself and sets it on the cart, cracking her knuckles as she shakes off the afterglow. She steps up to the front row and grabs a long steel bar that's embedded in the base of the low wall separating the seats from the show. She tenses her shoulders and braces her feet, and with a loud grunt of a growl, she lifts up the front and center seats all at once! Almost a dozen people, complete with the wood framework of their area, are lifted out of the stands like a giant barbell. The people in the seats gasp and laugh as even that gets Birtha a bit red-faced, but that appears to be more from the orgasm that is still dribbling down her legs. She sets them back down carefully, getting a praising smack on the ass from Rosey.
(Rosey) dialogue: "That's my girl! Now, for our final act! Ladies and gentlemen, brace your loins and hide your virgins! Our next act involves marital aids that are illegal in 9 countries! There were only 8 ever made, and there are 5 left in existance! They say it was based on an ancient fertility idol found deep in The Amazons! For her next trick, Birtha will be lifting the world's heaviest sex toy. Weighing in at ten tons, I give you the Angry X-Boyfriend!"
(action): Rosey takes a remote from among the weight set and hits a switch. There's the growl of an engine as a forklift brings out a huge, man-sized metallic dildo. It's set down beside Birtha with a dense thud that kicks up dust, and you can feel its weight rumble the seats to emphasize its weight. Birtha looks it up and down and then frowns as she folds her brawny arms across her full breasts.
(Birtha) dialogue: "Too easy."
(action): The crowd gives a mix of awkward chuckles and murmurs. Rosey looks surprised, and a bit of blush shows through her pale makeup. You can almost see her nipples stiffening at the boast.
(Rosey) dialogue: "Oh really!? Did you have something special in mind for this big boy?"
(Birtha) dialogue: "Birtha will be lifting with no hands."
(action): The audience laughs or applauds, depending on how much they believe the claim. Regardless, Birtha holds her hands in front of her. Rosey reaches into her chalk-white cleavage and pulls out a pair of handcuffs, shrugs, and clips them around Birtha's wrists. Birtha rolls her shoulders, bounces her breasts a few times by flexing her pecs, and steps up in front of the beast of a dildo with focus on her face. Rosey addresses the audience quietly for a moment through her microphone.
(Rosey) dialogue: "My dearest perverts, this has never been done before! Birtha will be lifting the heaviest sex toy known to woman. She needs the utmost quiet and focus to achieve this... AH, HELL WITH THAT! Let's cheer her on, folks!"
(action): Rosey starts to pump the crowd into a chant as Birtha leans into the X-Boyfriend.
(Rosey and the Crowd): "Birth! Birtha! Birtha!"
(action): Birtha tenses her whole body to focus on her powerful tits. They press around the sex toy (which looks more like a sex weapon) and then leans back. The ten-ton dildo is lifted several feet off the ground, getting a giant outburst of cheers and applause from the audience. Birtha jiggles her breasts, making them wobble around and bounce the giant cock around between them. She hooks one of her arms as Rosey approaches, Birtha giving her a strained but amused grin. The clown steps on her forearm and climbs up the woman nearly twice her height until Rosey is sitting on the tip of the colossal dildo. She crosses her legs daintily and poses for the crowd, breaking it to giggle when Birtha flexes again to make it vibrate beneath her. Rosey turns around, laying across the broad tip of the X-Boyfriend as she passionately kisses her muscular wife.
Her point made, Birtha pulls her arms apart and pulls her hands apart and snaps the handcuffs in half. She catches Rosey before she relaxes her chest and drops the 10-ton dildo to the ground. Birtha cradles her bride while wearing nothing but a pair of metal bracelets, kissing all over her painted cheeks. Rosey giggles as she grabs the microphone again.
(Rosey) dialogue: "Well, my super strong slut here won't leave me alone until I reward her for all that. Wasn't it a great show, everyone!?"
(action): The crowd whistles and cheers as Birtha treats them to a wave and another flex of her arm before she carries the cradled Rosey backstage.

Patreon Leak: Rubber Maiden

Sort of in my vein of monster-like girls and strange love, and the sort of limits and lengths that can go through in the form of a wife who's also a superheroine. I feel like RM's underlying insecurities were  a cute quirk and fun to write, and finding ways to describe her impossible stretching and shapeshifting creatively was neat. And for you who prefer fighting over straight sex and cuddles, you might want to check back in a few minutes for more of the popular Lily Max.

Tom Towers was a wonderful husband these last two years. He’s not the biggest guy around, but I always had bad luck with the strong types. He was the kind to go to work on time, respond to his emails and texts right away, and have dinner ready and waiting when it was his turn to cook. I was a bit more of a flake; I get guilted and chewed out for being late pretty regularly, sometimes with my hair in a mess or clothes on crooked. Tom actually had to sit me down and address it, and I had to swear I was just forgetful and clumsy, and would never dream of cheating on such a decent guy like him. It was all true, so he believed me, even if I had to hide the biggest part of my secret from him.
Julia Towers as he knew was really the Rubber Maiden, elastic shape-shifter and member of the Justice Force. I’m not exactly a leader of the bunch, but I’m a respected part of the team. They don’t have any other stretchy types on the team, though their telepaths and super strong ones can usually cover what I can between them. I’m a quick response unit, though, so I’m in the chain for text alerts when crimes pop up. So that’s usually why I’m late, but The Force pulls some strings for me if I ever get in too much trouble.
I keep things a secret from him for the usual reasons that The Force encourages; the whole hostage thing, mostly, and to keep ourselves more willing to leap into action psychologically. If Julie is Julie and Rubber Maiden is Rubber Maiden, that crossover won’t keep me wondering if I put the dishes away when I’m dodging fireballs and catching falling civilians. I have to admit, the whole thing is sort of exciting. I get to feel like a spy when I make my excuses, and having my harmless secret adds a little spice in the bedroom. I don’t really use my powers for anything normally anyway. There’s no telling when he might walk in on me, so I can’t exactly grab the frying pan across the kitchen with my rubber arm. But I’ll admit, I might have expanded or shrunk a little now and then if a dress didn’t quite fit like I expected...
I end up busting some bank robbers before I’m home for dinner one night. It helps to have a body that wiggles in every direction and bounces bullets off my skin, so I wrapped them up in my arm before slingshotting them into a squad car. I ran to hurry home and drop a little catchphrase: “Glad to help, but I gotta bounce!” I was so proud of that one! I hope it’s in the papers.
When I get to the house, I realize I forgot to leave myself a change of clothes in the secret spot under the bushes (I told you I wasn't lying about being forgetful). I give a little curse (even if Tom tells me that "shucks" isn't a curse), but I've screwed this up before. Easy fix! I just go in the bedroom window, change into civilian clothes, then stretch back down to the front door like nothing happened.
As I pick out some clothes and fix my hair, I get distracted by myself in the mirror. The Rubber Maiden outfit was built for practicality, so it's tight and utilitarian red and white spandex. Some of the other heroes have armor or gadgets, but this suits me perfectly for clinging to my body and not snagging on something when I'm stretching across a city block. It also hugs around the hips and other curves in a way that I think looks pretty good on me. It's embarrassing to find posts with collections of photos from my appearances that show off my ass, but it's also kind of flattering. I give my booty a wiggle for the mirror, smiling proudly under my eye-concealing mask and slightly curled red hair.
"Still got it," I chime quietly, but pull too hard getting my blouse out of the closet. I jump as a few of the metal hangers hit the floor and clang off of each other. I freeze when I hear Tom call up to me.
"Jule? You upstairs?"
I grab the clothes quickly and consider not saying anything, but I end up calling back. "Yea, it's me, hon!" I try to hurry out of my boots and gloves, struggling with the buckles.
"I didn't hear you come in. Are you alright?"
Tom, you are a sweety, but not freaking now... "Yea, I just really... really needed to change," I grunt. My foot gets stuck in a boot before I get fed up and shrink it by a few shoe sizes, sliding it right out and poofing it up to full size again.
"You need any help? Dinner's ready." I can hear him coming up the stairs! Curse his sweetness and caring nature!
"Oh, no! Just... haha! Just taking my time with it. Stubborn bra, y'know? I'm just changing, so don't-" The door opens quicker than I thought. Oh right. Married. He's seen me naked dozens of times. He catches me with a foot braced on the bed, thighs spread and with a shoulder strap of my spandex pulled down. I freeze there, halfway out of my super suit, blushing all over my entire face. "Hey... sweetie..." I mutter.
My sweet and kind and oh-so cute husband steps into our bedroom. "This isn't a kinky thing. Is it, Jules?"
I sigh and reach across the twenty feet across the room to shut the door behind him. "No... not really. Just... don't be mad."
He rolls his eyes and sits on the bed, patting the spot next to him. I trot over and try to fight off the blush as I sit next to him, but he puts his arm around my waist. "Why would I be mad?" he asks softly.
"Because I'm a superhero and didn't tell you," I squeak tinily. Guns and evil geniuses, sure. Guilt I'm not so good with.
"Was it the secret identity thing? Keeping me safe and everything?" I nod and he goes on. "Yea, that sounds like something you'd do. I just don't get it. You're really Rubber Maiden?"
“Yea," I admit, leaning my head on his shoulder. There's no reason to really hide it anymore, so I stretch out to toss the clothes back on a chair by the corner.
"But Maiden has long hair.” Tom sighed at the realization. “Oh. It’s just a wig, isn’t it?”“Well, no…” I grab the edges of my hair and pull down, stretching it down to my waist. It gives a slight springing noise, but stays stretched down to the overly long hair.
"And here I always thought you were just flexible," he muttered as he looks me over.
I lift off the eye mask, at least, smiling meekly. "So... you're not mad."
"No. It just explains a lot. You should've told me." He gives me a slight squeeze at the waist, and he looks surprised when my stomach pulls a little closer to him as I don't resist it like I normally have to. To be honest, being fully elastic is much more natural feeling to me. Staying in human shape makes it feel... constricting. Like really tight pants you wear all day and then get to be free at the end of the day.
"I know," I sigh. "But the secret identity! If they found out who I was, they could come get you!"
"If they took off your mask and found out who you are, they could Google your friends and family anyway. Telling me isn't going to change that."
Dang. He has a point. "Well, it's a secret, okay? You can't tell anyone else."
"Tell them what?" he smiled, kissing me on the lips. "I still don't know what you do at your actual job enough to talk about it."
"I keep the spreadsheets filed and in order for... nevermind." I smile and kiss him back a little longer. "It feels good to let someone in on it anyway."
"So what's it all like?" he asks. "The super life, the... powers. Where'd they come from?"
"Oh, just genetics. Mutation. Like that lady working at the grocery store with ice powers. I've been at this stuff since I was ten." I stretch my leg out off the bed, extending it about ten feet off before curling it around in a loop, tapping him on the nose with my toe. "I'm kinda getting good at it these last few years."
"I see," he says, tickling the extended foot as I giggle next to him. I stretch my neck out in front of him and kiss him on the lips as he takes my chin gently. "Well dinner's getting cold. How about we eat and talk?"
"Sure thing, handsome," I giggle. I snap back into place and start to undress, but he stays to watch me the whole while. I turn it into more of a little striptease, even if I have absolutely no experience in doing them. At least I have plenty of wiggle and jiggle to it.
We talk it out over dinner, and I tell him everything. My recruitment to The Force, my hero training under She-Beast, that time I saved everyone from the ultrasonic fiend The Vibrator, that time I helped knock out a god of destruction... wow, when I put it like that, it sounds like I'm a big deal. He's such a great listener to hear me ramble through it all, and I keep feeling like I'm the luckiest woman in the world to have someone so understanding.
Tom and Julia powers
That night, we cuddle on the couch, relaxing with a few drinks while I tell the last of my big stories. He wants to hear more, but it's getting late. We get to bed as I wrap my waist around him like a python, walking ahead of him to lead him upstairs. He laughs as I grin mischeviously and take him into the bedroom before I unwind and let him drop into bed. I think he gets that I'm in a playful mood and lets me take the lead. I get on top of him and we start kissing intensely. I can feel his erection through his pants, pressing against my hips. I start breathing heavy, and he touches one of my breasts.
"You okay?" he asks quietly. I look down to see what he means, my tits growing several inches in diameter and gone up a few cup sizes. I'm practically spilling out of my bra and my shirt is ready to tear. I forgot just how easily I can stretch when I'm not thinking about it.
"Yea... yea, it's fine," I smile widely. "Why? You like it?" I sit up, still straddling his hips while I put my hands behind my head and jiggle the puffed up tits for him. He grins back, cupping my oversized and extra sensitive breasts in his hands.
"I like it... but do you think you'd be more comfortable in something else?"
"Like what? Oh... ohhhhhh. You think so?" I flatten out my legs and wrap them around his waist, pulling my hips more tightly against his crotch and feeling his member up against me. "You want a visit from the Maiden?" I coo to him. "Because I think I could arrange a visit."
He smiles and kisses me back firmly. "I could see it... if you don't think she'd mind. And if you won't get jealous."
"Ohh, I'll get jealous alright," I giggle, the wine talking for me a bit as I slip down to my knees. I tug his pants down and start to kiss over his shaft. He just grunts and leans back on the bed as I wrap my lips around his head and suck noisily on the sensitive tip. "You're my man after all. No naughty, dirty super slut is going to take my cock away."
He's a moaning mess, barely able to meet my eyes. "You think she is one of those types?" he asks breathlessly.
"Ohhh, I know she is." I grin and pop my lips off of his shaft, softly stroking his wet cock in my slick hand. "She's a reaaaal kinky girl. She likes it extra freaky. Now don't go anywhere..." I speak in a singsong voice as I stride back to my closet. I usually have it in a hidden compartment in the back, but we left it hanging up off to one side since he already knows. The whole time I'm dressing, I have my arm stretched across the room between me and the closet, still slowly pumping his cock just how he likes it, but not enough to push him over the edge.
While I slip on the costume (it takes an extra minute to stuff my blown-up boobs into the top, but luckily it's as stretchy as I am), I keep peeking over to make sure it's not too weird for him. He's just watching me in return, this glassy look in his eye that he gets when he's real turned on. I decide to test the waters with some of the weirder uses of my powers; I make a kissy face at him, then stretch my lips out towards him to kiss his cheek.
I've always had these big pouty lips that I got made fun of when I was little, but he always just called them "extra kissable." Now they're stretched some twenty feet to reach him, my batting bedroom eyes looking down them at him. He smiles and kisses them back, my extended mouth smiling before I bend it over to start sucking him off from across the room. I reel the arm back in to finish getting dressed while I keep teasing him with my elongated lips and tongue that could deepthroat him without even reaching my throat.
I walk back towards him, reeling in my lips as I get closer. It's hard to tell what it feels like in there, but he squirms and grips the sheets. Either it feels especially good to have some kind of shapeshifting suction down there, or I'm hitting on some kind of secret fetish of his. Granted, I do tend to move some weight around whenever I put on the Rubber Maiden outfit. It's nothing too much, but I started so I could throw off anyone who might recognize my figure. I thin my waist a couple inches, puff out my chest (though normally not to this ridiculous level) and fill out my hips and thighs a bit. If I'm going to be wearing a skintight outfit where nobody knows who I am, I might as well make it look good. It just sort of turns on instinctively when I put on the suit now, and I can see his eyes go over my figure.
I'm all mask and spandex when I come back to the bed, sitting on his lap and wiggling my rubbery butt against him. I bite my lip as I turn around to face him, rotating 180 degrees at the waist with the faint stretching noise of my costume. "Is this too weird for you?" I ask sheepishly. "You can tell me if it's too weird."
Tommy looks at me like it wasn't weird until I asked that. He takes me by the chin and pulls me into a soft kiss, my neck stretching out to follow his guiding hand away from my shoulders. "You're perfect. You always were," he tells me, and I would just melt if that was one of my powers. He hugs me around the waist, pulling me tighter against him. His firm hands squish my thin, twisted waist even thinner and push my ass against his erectionDon't get me wrong: Tom is a sweet guy, and this is the first time he's seen me stretch like this, but we've gotten kinky in the bedroom before. There's still a set of handcuffs and a riding crop in the closet from our 5 year anniversary of our meeting. I can only tease him so much before she grabs both of my oversized boobs, squeezing and squishing them out of shape like a pair of stress balls. My stretchy spandex-wrapped skin slips through his fingers as I relax my body against him, touching me in this freeing, intimate new way.
I pull aside the crotch of my crimefighting costume to mounttake him inside me, stretching my wound-up spine like a bridge as I push him onto his back. I end up in a twisted cowgirl position, bouncing my ass to drive his cock into my pussy while I'm bent around to let him kiss and fondle me.
"Always bending over backward for me, huh?" Tom mutters, and I let loose a snorting laugh that almost breaks my concentration. He pinches my nipples and rolls them between his fingers, making them start to stretch further away from my chest until they're a few inches long. I can handle punches and bullets, but the tender tips of my tits being pulled gets a desperate moan out of me.
"It looks like I've got Rubber Maiden right where I want her." He smiles at me devilishly as he watches me bite my lip. You can't really be a masochist and fight crime as a heroine (except for The Sexorcist, I guess), but he knows I like a little dominance in bed when I'm in the right kind of mood.
"That's what you think," I purr back, flexing my thighs experimentally. It tightens my pussy around him, but with a few tries, I can actually grab onto his cock with my inner walls. I contort my snatch to pump him like an internal handjob on top of my humping. It gets a nice big moan out of him with that one, and it's ridiculously easy to guide him towards my clit. She's been getting nice and hard, and while I'm aware of it, I'm surprised at how big it's gotten. It feels bigger than my thumb since I let go of controlling my powers.
We grind and hump like it's a race, sweating heavily as he pulls down on my costume. He exposes my tits and pushes one of the big girls upward until the nipples (which thankfully fell back to normal size without him stretching them) poke up at my face. I wrap my mouth around it and start to tongue and kiss it, and I hear him give one of those big grunts that means he's about to burst. I assume it's my sucking my own breast in front of him while I'm still bent around to face him. Then I lick over my areola to try to show off for him and he gives another, but I feel something rub against my clit... even though it's vice versa. I realize that in all my arousal, I was controlling my clit like my second tongue, rubbing it over his dick and feeling his precum rub against it.
"Fuck, babe... Im' about to..." he mutters. He squeezes my tit out of shape and I lash out my arms, both of them wrapping around his to hold him down like I'm a piece of living bondage gear.
"And don't you dare stop," I groan, stretching and shortening my clit against his shaft to mix our wet juices against each other. It makes his cum shoot right over my clit, and that sticky warmth drives me right over the edge. We share this big, primal scream of pleasure together before I collapse on top of him... big time. All my muscles relax, but without that part of my mind restraining my elasticity, I find my orgasm is even bigger when I focus on it, and I fall onto him like I'm made of spaghetti. My limbs are too long and one breast falls to one side. I'm practically a small blanket on top of him, and I can just stretch my neck out to kiss him on the cheek a few times.
"That was... wow, baby," he mutters, turning to kiss me back.
"So... too weird?" I mutter quietly, still surprised at myself and the crazy stuff we just went through. Growing up being teased didn't give me the most confidence in the world, and even when you've saved the world, you can feel the most vulnerable around those who are important to you.
"Just weird enough," he smiles, giving my hair a gentle tug as he kisses me again. I giggle and kiss him back, sliding my tongue out to stay inside him while our lips part before I reel it back in a few seconds later.
Things are great between me and Tom lately. I don't have to make up excuses for why I'm late because I can just tell him about the crazy fight I just had. I can use it around the house to grab stuff off the high cabinet, and to talk to him or use the computer while I'm in the bath. I feel better than ever, about our relationship and myself, because I can really let loose and be what I feel like I'm supposed to be more often.
And of course the sex... I'm more adventurous, and Rubber Maiden has made a few surprise appearances for our roleplayed "affairs" and "adventures" together.
When I come back home for Valentine's Day and we've had our dinner and presents, we go back into the bedroom.
"What are you feeling tonight?" he offers as he takes off his tie. "Should I play a villain agan, or you just want to get loose and see what happens?"
"Well, there's this one trick I've been thinking of... I mean, more for crime fighting, but I think it'll work here." He nods for me to go on, and I take a big breath. It takes a lot of focus to start it, but once it's going, I'm surprised at how easy it is to maintain focus. I stretch myself out sideways, then sculpt and bend the extra flesh while I bring mine back into shape. It's all kind of like working clay, just with your mind and entire body. There's a thin thread of me between my main body and the other piece I made. It's shape just like me, if a little lighter because of how my weird mass works. I grab the costume and a few seconds later, it looks just like he has both Julia Towers and Rubber Maiden in the room together with him.
"Wow... best of both worlds," he smiles, maybe more impressed than he is horny from it. That is, until I step up and we both start to climb on top of him for our two-person threesome.
"So what's all this I hear about your affair with Rubber Maiden?" I tease.

Sexfight High pt 1: The New Girl

Another leak from the Patreon as new content moves in. This sort of went out of control in a good way. SI threw it into the polls without much idea on where to go with it beyond a bunch of punny names. It became a TON of punny names, world-building a culture that revolves around sexual competition, and setting up a tale of a girl living in her mother's shadow. Also there's tits, ass and vaginas everywhere! Fun stuff, so hope y'all enjoy.

It was a different world than we know in a few major changes. Firstly, the world was nothing but women. This made childbearing challenging, but not impossible, especially in modern times. Somewhere in society's prehistory, sexual dominance became the primary means of resolving conflict. Official records date back to ancient China, Mesopotamia, and Europe, showing both duels and organized mass combat using the art known as "sexfighting." The styles and techniques varied, whether one was researching Matilda the Hun, Susan Su, Nippleleon Bonaparte, Alexandria the Great, or Georgina Washincum, but in all cultures, there was little to no use for guns or swords. In this sex-filled world, sex was the weapon of choice.
Annie Snatch sighed as she looked out the window, earbuds blocking out the rest of the bus. They'd arrived at Southern Valley a few minutes ago, and the school was within line of sight. She'd done her mandatory few years of high school before she was old enough to elect for the sexfight focus in her classes. The fact was that as far as Annie was concerned, they were just easier and more fun than regular school. After the mess at St. Nookie's School For Sexfighting Youths, here she was transferring to Southern Valley Sexfight High. It was a... fine place, really. It did its job, but you didn't see them in any of the amateur championships, and nobody went after them as their first pick.
Annie finally got off the bus with a few other passengers, mostly girls her age or older. She had brown hair down to her shoulders, smooth and straight. Some pale freckles peppered the light-colored cheeks on her cute face, and she was a little below average with her height and weight. She finally took out her earbuds and stuffed them into her suitcase as she looked up at the front of the school.
"OH! Anna! There you are!" Annie looked up to see the jiggling figure coming towards her. She was a tall blonde woman with glasses clutching a clipboard to her huge chest, making it look even bigger under the pressure. She wore a suit and skirt with a tie that ran down her cleavage, and while Annie had seen bigger boobs than hers, the woman's ass was the real piece of work on her. It was big and round, but perky enough that her pantied butt lifted her skirt ride up higher than it should be just due to its efforts to encompass her entire rear. It was pretty formal for a sexfighting school, where the teens were roaming the halls in anything some skirts and blouses, lingerie and swimsuits.
"I'm Kelly Climex. I'm the headmistress here at the school. Sort of your... principal and dean put into one," she smiled brightly. "It's wonderful to have you at Southern Valley. How was your trip?"
Annie shrugged quietly. "It was fine," she dismissed. She had other things on her mind, and the most immediate was the woman's jiggling booty that poked out past her hips.
"Well, that's something," Miss Climex chimed, scratching something off on her clipboard. "I was going to show you around the grounds before letting you settle into your dorm. We'd like you to visit a few of your classes if possible before you get into regular schedule tomorrow." She passed Annie a few stapled pages together, which she flipped through casually. Schedules for the computer lab, rules for the sparring rooms, map of the dorms, and her class schedule; Intro To Fuckanomics, Advanced Sexual Anatomy, A Probing History of Sex, Aerobics and Weight Training... nothing too jarring, and likely not much she hadn't gone over before in some capacity.
Annie followed Miss Climex as she led her into the school. She got a few strange or curious looks from the students she passed by (even the couple of girls making out against their locker), but she ignored them. It was pretty easy to fixate her eyes on that bouncing ass in front of her while Kelly went on about the school's history and features. Her mom had gone over most of this stuff with her on the trip to the bus station, trying to assure her that the place wasn't going to be so bad.
Annie finally spoke up about the one question really on her mind. "Where do I know that ass from?"
"Excuse me?" Kelly stopped short, making Annie bounce off of her rear airbags with a brief squeak.
"That ass. I can't remember where I saw it, but it's definitely a fuckfighter's. I've seen champs talk about how they wish they had an ass like that. Perfect for smothers, grinding, extra weight for thrusting... you've got some experience."
Kelly cleared her throat and smiled, but blushed along with the proud grin. "Oh. Yes, that. I did have a career in professional sexfighting at one point a few years ago. I'm technically retired... in an official sense anyway."
"Really?" Annie pried, feeling like this was the most interesting thing she'd come across all day. "What made you decide to become a teacher instead?"
"Oh, the children are our future, after all," she said brightly, but she avoided Annie's eye. "I had a few bad matches and I got to thinking and decided I'd be better off preparing our next generation's athletes and soldiers."
Annie nodded as she went on with the tour, but discreetly pulled out her phone and typed in a few searches. Sure enough, there was a younger Miss Climex, out cold in the middle of a fighting ring. She was in a puddle of cum that covered half of the mats and soaking into her hair. Her legs were spread wide open as if they were stuck in that position. Kelly's eyes were rolled back in her head and it was enough that there were bruises around her pelvis and ass. A long-haired redhead stood over her with her triumphant fists in the air. "Crushing defeat" and "one-sided fuckfest" were coming up in a lot of the articles. She'd have to check out those videos later. If nothing else, the teacher looked hot when she was fucked silly with her tongue hanging out and ass in the air.It was a step down from St Nookie's, but SVS High wasn't a bad place. Definitely more relaxed, and it was very clean for a place that smelled of sex everywhere you went. Nookie's had gone so far as to synthesize the smell into a part aphrodisiac, part air freshener, but Annie could tell the difference. It was more genuine and felt more cozy here, and it put her a bit at ease about the whole situation. The classrooms had variously-sized windows over the doors, giving glimpses of the scenes inside. Cheerleaders doing their routines without any underwear, a girl riding a mechanical bull with a dildo on top, and a surprising amount of kids just sitting in classrooms writing or watching a teacher. One in particular had a tall and leggy woman patting a riding crop on a projector that showed an old photograph of a massive battlefield. Bodies were everywhere, passed out from sexual exhaustion while the occasional medic held ice packs to their groins and rehydrated them with canteens. A few dozen more women still clashed in the middle, ramming their breasts together or wearily locked up in tribbing scissors.
The teacher seemed to catch her staring and waved her and Kelly in. Miss Climex shrugged and opened the door for her. "You must be the new student," the tall brunette reasoned. She had a big and broad set of tits stuffed into a snug sweatshirt and long brown curls that fell out over her cleavage and shoulders.
"Why yes, Mrs. Domsley," Miss Climex replied brightly. "Annie here is-"
Kelly stopped short when the history teacher suddenly cracked her riding crop into the side of the headmistress' juicy ass. She squeaked and jumped hard enough that she had to catch her glasses before they fell off her face. A few of the students giggled, and Annie was among them for being so close to the jiggling booty."I was talking to the young lady. I respect your position, Miss Climex, but I vill not tolerate interruptions in my classroom. Even from you." Mrs. Domsleys' words seemed to gracefully stumble their way out of her mouth with an unclear European accent. Annie thought she heard some French in there, just for it to trail into a bit of British and then... Russian? Maybe she was just really shitty with accents.
The history teacher nodded towards the sexual war scene on the projector. "I noticed you watching from ze window. I see that you have a hunger for the tales of the past as as well. Did you have a favorite historical figure, miss....?"
"Snatch. I'm Annie Snatch." A few of the girls showed some minor surprise in their faces, but that was all. She shrugged at Mrs. Domsley. "But... yea, I guess."
"Oh? Do elaborate." The stern teacher centered her gaze on Annie as she turned with her arms crossed under her hefty breasts so that the center of her arms basically vanished from sight.
"Well... a lot of people would say Abriana Lickin for winning the Clittal War for the rights of sex slaves, but I dunno. She had a looser fighting style than I like, and then there's the whole incident where she was roofied and fucked in the middle of that theatre by Jane Wilkes Booth. I was more of a Joanne of Arc sort. All hands-on and righteous fury type. Do you think the stories are true that they called her the 'Warrior Virgin' because she never orgasmed during any of her battles?"
The rest of the class fell quiet, and Domsley's eyebrows slowly raised up her forehead. She lightly wagged her crop at Annie, but a good six inches away from hitting her. "Excellent, Miss Snatch! It is good to see you won't be stuck playing catch up with the rest of ze class. I look forward to reading your essays, that is for sure."
A few of the kids whispered behind her back, and Annie tried to ignore them. They were figuring out who she was. Still, she had to smile with the pride for her reputation bubbling up inside her.
"Thhhhat's good to hear," the blushing Kelly said carefully, waiting to see if Mrs. Domsley scolded her again. "But we have a few more stops to make. I'll leave you to your class, Mrs. Domsley, but thank you for your time."
"Of course, headmistress!" The history teacher grinned at her with a predatory flash of her teach. "Let me know if you need another... meeting." Domsley lightly tapped her crop in her palm before turning back to the rest of the class.
"I like her," Annie said with a smile when they were back in the halls.
"She certainly knows her material. Though I think she just looks for reasons to spank me sometimes," Kelly said with another wave of blush going over her cheeks. "That's most for the classes, and I'll show you the cafeteria and the dorms in a moment. I just wanted to take a little detour here..."
Climex took her down a turn towards the corner of the main building. It was quieter there, with fewer rooms that seemed to be for storage or more subdued classes. One appeared to just be a study hall, or maybe a detention of some sort, where a goth-looking girl lazily masturbated under her desk. A rhythmic clanking started to sound faintly through the walls as they reached the end of the corridor. The door's old and simple label read "club room."
Kelly didn't bother knocking, knowing she wouldn't be heard over the metallic noises. As soon as she opened, the unleashed, blasting metal music hit Anna like a stiff breeze. The clanking went on across the room, where there were a few large pieces of gym equipment. There was one other person in the room, and the black girl sitting on the leg press machine was completely nude (the constantly opening and closing thighs made very clear). Dense muscle wrapped around her thighs, abs and arms, leaving her breasts taut and slightly upturned by her supportive pecs. Even straight across the room from her, the girl stared ahead intensely, cranking the impressive weight up and down another dozen times. Her straight dark hair ended just above her strong jawline, with a streak of purple dyed down one if the sides.
Annie gave her headmistress a sideways glance, and Climex gave her an assuring wave of her hand. The weights finally crashed into their resting place and the sweaty girl stood up, jabbing the button on the nearby speaker to switch off the music as she stormed up to Annie. She wasn't more than an inch or two taller than Annie, but the muscles and sweat made her look bigger than she was.
"The fuck you doing here?" she snapped curtly. Annie blinked back at her quietly, before looking wordlessly at Miss Climex.
"Sammy," the headmistress said rather brightly. "This is Annie Snatch. Annie, this is Samantha Armstrong. She's the captain of our school's sexfighting team."
"What's left of it," Samanatha scoffed. She suddenly grabbed one of Anne's breasts and squeezed. Even Annie had to jolt a bit as the strong hand kneaded her jug, big for her otherwise plain-looking figure. "You're better than you look," Sam noted with a smirk. "Soft but solid core. Good fuckin' reaction time, and you didn't piss yourself like a pussy, so you've got guts for a newbie. You thinkin' about joining?"
"Maybe," Annie said, managing an amused smile. "I only just got here, but I like your..." Anne let her eyes roam up and down the ripped, naked body and the shamelessly parted thighs. "Attitude. Was that Cunt Destroyers you were playing?"
Samantha smiled, even with the intimidating scowl in her eyes. "Yea. Love their shit. Helps me think."
"That's sure one thing it does!" Annie insisted brightly.
Sam patted her firmly on the arm, what was probably meant to be sporting but a little more intense than most people would have done. "Like you, runt. Stop on by some time. I might show you a thing or two."
Annie nodded. "Oh, I saw plenty." Samantha's erect clit, nipples, and everything else that could be hard on the human body, for example. "But yea... I guess I'll see you around."
"Sounds like fun," Kelly piped up. "But the caf is just this way. Thanks for the visit, Sammy!" The headmistress led her back out to the halls, and Annie heard the weights going a few moments later. Sam seemed like an alright girl, apart from a foul mouth and a natural glare to her eyes. Friendly once you got past the swearing and the nudity and other mature content, but also one dedicated fuckfighter. Annie had, if nothing else, a sharp eye for talent by now.
"So... what's wrong with the sexfight team?" Annie waited to ask until they'd passed the cafeteria. Kelly Climex slowed her pace a bit, but Annie knew by now to hold out her hand and brace it against her butt before she walked into it. "You showed me that for a reason, didn't you?"
"Yes," Kelly sighed. "With your background, we were sort of hoping you'd be interested in joining. Membership has always been a bit strained, and this year we're down to just..." She gestured back at the main building where Sam had been working out alone. "If it stays like that, we won't be able to compete this season at all. They might even cut the funding for it if it goes on longer than that. It's a shame... we've got such talented girls on the grounds, but they're all hesitant to sign up."
"Why's that?" Annie pressed.
"Oh, it's just our reputation. The big name schools like Nookie's and Clitston and Bukakke International, they're the ones you see take the championship. We make a good show, but they say it's the campus curse to lose before we even properly place in the rankings."
"I guess if that's the worst your school's got, it's not as bad as people say," Annie decided, continuing to walk after the instructor. She sighed and scratched her hair. "I'll unpack and sleep on it, but I promise I'll think about it."
Climex grabbed her in a hug, squeezing Annie until her head vanished between her tits. "Oh, THANK YOU, sweetie! It means the world to us! I'm sure you'll do great here! You'll make your mother proud! I just know it!"
Annie gasped some air back into her lungs when Kelly let go of her, continuing to lead her into the dorms while Annie got her footing back. Retired or not, the woman could certainly still smother. Kelly finally handed her a keycard as they reached room B008. "We've already informed your roommate that you were coming. She should be expecting you by now. If you have any questions or need anything, my number's on the handout I gave you."
Anne looked back at the papers she'd wedged carelessly into her bag, but nodded. "Alright... thanks for showing me around." Kelly smiled brightly at the little praise before she strode off to do whatever else she had on her clipboard for the day. Annie opened the door to her room where a girl with skin the color of milky coffee and hair the color of oil was sitting on one of the two beds. She had her hair tied back in a short ponytail, and wore a sporty outfit of a tanktop and some tight-fitting shorts. A small TV was propped up on one of the dressers, and a closet door was left open to show the variety of bright-colored clothes the girl had at her disposal.
The girl was leaned against the wall behind her bed, reading intently before she looked up. Based on all the busty women wearing spandex and shooting lasers at each other on the cover of her book, it was certainly not for school.
"Ooh! Roomie!"The Spanish girl smiled brightly and did a little tumble/hop combination off her bed, trotting over and hugging Annie briefly and sweetly rather than the crushing hug of the headmistress. "So glad you're here! It was getting too quiet around here, and I'd hummed every song I know. This'll be great!" Anne's roommate helped out by picking up her bag as Anne went to look over the room a bit more. The new face babbled on. "Go ahead and take whatever bed you want. I finally have someone to stay up all night with. We can tell jokes, do ghost stories, practice kissing, trade outfits... speaking of! Oolala!"
Annie looked back over her corner to see the girl had pulled one of her thongs out of her luggage, stretching it between her thumbs before it slingshotted comically away. Annie rolled her eyes, but she smiled as she flopped onto one of the beds. "Well, since you've already started, you might as well unpack for me," she joked, laying back in the bed as if trying to go so sleep.
There was a rustling as her roommate started shuffling deeper into her bag as if looking for something good. "Hey! I was kidding!" Annie protested, tossing a pillow at her as she got back up.
The Spanish girl giggled and grinned as she slid Annie her luggage. "Here I am looking at your undies and I don't even know your name. Juanita Coño." Despite her clear South American heritage, she spoke with no clear accent until she used her last name.
Annie held out a hand to her as the other lugged her bag onto her bed. "Annie Snatch. Just transferred in." She kept an eye on Juanita's face, but she didn't seem to recognize the name like some of the others clearly had.
"Good to meet ya. Are you hungry?"
"Yea, I guess," Anne said with a noncommittal shrug.
"But I thought you said your name was Annie."
There was a deep silence in the room as Annie's brow furrowed and Juanita's smile widened. "Oh my god! We just met and you are already the worst person in the world!" Annie shouted, getting a huge outbreak of high-pitched laughter from Juanita. It spread to Annie after a second, and she regretted throwing her pillow already. She grabbed Juanita's instead and threw that at her, bouncing off her roommate's face. She fell over from the fluffy impact, but it only slowed her giggling.
"It was too good to pass up on!" Juanita insisted, hugging the pillow to her chest.
"It absolutely was anything but 'too good," Annie insisted as she started to cram her clothes into her closet and drawers.
Juanita rocked on her butt, Annie instinctively taking note of how tight it was while still so meaty. "You just don't have a sense of humor."
"Oh, I definitely do. Anyone else I've met at this school would have probably slapped you for that stupid joke."
"Yea, probably. But anyone else at that school would have been nicer to my lucky pillow." Juanita pet it consolingly before setting it back on the bed. "I had my first orgasm on that bad girl."
Annie unpacked fairly quickly while she talked with Juanita. The spunky girl was like everything else at this school; weird at first, but perfectly likeable after a little while. She used Annie as a testing ground for her puns and jokes, but she had some gems in there among the lame mom-jokes. It was four o'clock by the time Annie was done, so she took up Juanita's earlier (unfortunately phrased) invitation to go get dinner. She insisted that it was the best time because they had just changed out the meals in the caf and it beat the dinner rush at 5.
The halls between them and the caf were still lined with students coming back from classes or practice. More people than earlier were looking at Anne, and she knew that more of the girls had found out about her. She flashed some casual smiles, but eventually Juanita nudged her with her elbow.
"Jeez, who's cereal did you piss in?" she muttered. "I think they're giving you the stinkeye."
"Not really," Annie sighed. The ice she was so carefully trying to avoid finally broke when a golden-blonde beauty slid into their path. She had ridiculous tits, which was to say that Annie instantly picked up on the boob job. The science was pretty advanced for them these days, but they lacked the proper jiggle for their size. She had pouty lips and a flashy pink and gold skirt and blouse, a star stylishly cut into the chest to force the eye onto her cleavage. She bore a winning smile behind her pouty lips and batted big blue eyes with big dark lashes at Annie. Two more girls followed a few paces behind her; a chunky-looking girl with wide, brawny shoulders and a tall girl in a jersey and gym shorts. Annie vaguely suspected them of being football and basketball players, or at least built for the respective sports.
"Annie Snatch! It's so good to meet you!" the blonde almost sang in her charm-soaked sentence. "I'm Vanessa VonFawkes, and I'm also UTTERLY charmed to make your acquaintance."
"Yea..." Anne said plainly. Oh god, here it came. Her cheeks flushed a bit as Juanita looked quizzically back and forth between them. "Uh... you too."
"Mind if I walk with you? My girls can take care of that pest, if you want. Bonnie? Teresa?" Vanessa clapped briskly.
Juanita squeaked as the two variously big girls moved towards her, holding her messenger bag up in front of her. Annie spun around and waved a hand. "Whoa, whoa! No, she's okay. I'm rooming with her. Juanita, put the bag down."
The Spanish girl poked her head out from behind the bag and stuck out her tongue out at the brutes before relaxing again.
"Really? Oh, that's too bad. Isn't she just insufferable? A girl of your pedigree should really be with a higher sort of company."
"My pedigree doesn't mean anything," Annie muttered, biting her lip to keep back a frown. "I'm just me."
"Nonsense! It's clear you're from fighting stock just by looking at you! And who couldn't recognize someone born to a champion sexfighter, let alone a ten-YEAR one?"
Annie palmed her face. There it was. Juanita looked back and forth between them rapidly. "Wait, your mom is Cynthia Snatch? THE Cynthia 'Sinful' Snatch?!"
"How did you not put that together, clown cunt?" Vanessa sneered back at her. "See, this is what I mean, Anne. Come on. I can show you some of the hangouts where the popular girls go. There's even a nice little corner of the gym I keep on reserve. Maybe we could go have a little spar over there sometime..."
"No thanks." Annie started walking forward. "Come on, Juanita." She kept her face serious, but her cheeks were turning bright red. She absolutely hated the celebrity treatment. Her mom was a big shot, no doubt, and her sister Sara was already showing promise in college for years and about to go pro next season. She was proud, yes, and she was a natural sexfighter. It came easily to her, and that was almost part of the problem. But when people saw her and just looked through her and saw her mom, nothing annoyed her quite like it.
"Hey!" Vanessa objected, turning to glare after her with her baby blues. Juanita took the opening to dart between her and her goons to tail after Annie. “You can’t blow me off! I’m the hottest girl in school! There are people lining up to fuck me!”
“Don’t care!” Annie called back over her shoulder, barely turning around. Several of the kids laughed and a few clapped as Annie picked up her pace, leaving Vanessa fuming in the middle of the halls.
“Okay, now THAT was funny,” Juanita grinned.
"Yea, sorry about that. My working mom kind of casts a big shadow over my life."
"Oh, I get it," Juanita insisted. "My aunt's a professional titboxer." She took several mocking jabs at the air, as if that helped explain it better.
"Yea, I wasn't going to mention." Annie smiled. "Strained her nipple in the finals and sat out this season. She doing alright?"
"Oh, she'll be fine. Keeps talking about her comeback fight and stuff," Juanita assured.
"So this doesn't change anything?" Annie asked warily.
"Are you kidding? I barely change my underwear," Juanita said with a grin. "Besides, who else would put up with my jokes?"
The rest of Annie’s school day went by rather smoothly. Climex’s extended tour and all the distractions took her past any scheduled classes, so she just ate and goofed off with Juanita. She allowed a few kids to approach her and ask about her mom, and only the one girl asked for her autograph (the one with thick glasses who smelled funny). Then it was cartoons and the daily sexfight news back at the dorm. With all the different leagues and tournaments going on, there was always something going on (the lingerie bowl leagues, titboxing, foxy boxing, oil wrestling, sexfights, marathon sex, dilduels, and so on).
The next day was much more busy. Climex had expected her to start going to classes, and she might as well to see how they were. A lot of them were basic technique stuff that she could practically sleep through. Mrs. Clitston was teaching various forms and techniques, with the Sealing Lotus tribbing technique the main subject for the day. Even if she knew most of the style, it was interesting to hear some of the history that her mom had left out. Domsley’s history class was a highlight, with her passionate talk of various leaders and battles throughout the history of sexfighting. Mrs. Feshel’s gym class was right before lunch, where it was a general workout day and Annie got to show her stuff on the mechanical bull and the nipple weights. Samantha Armstrong was in gym with her, and while she wasn’t quite as intense as her on the weights, Annie’s strong thighs outdid her record on the bull’s strapon mount.
It was a short break before and after lunch when she went through the halls. Sam and Juanita went with her on the way to the caf. Anne had gone with a basic pair of shorts and tanktop for the day, something she could slip in and out of as the day demanded. Sammy was talking to Annie about how impressed she was by her work in gym. “It was nothing,” she insisted. “I still lost that butt bounce with Juanita.”
“Yea, but look at that ass.” Sam gave her a sharp smack to the Spanish roomie’s booty, getting a giggle out of her as the short shorts wobbles around with their contents. “Hard to top that.”
“Oh hello there, Annie!”
It was Vanessa’s voice. Anne’s good mood went away as she groaned. “Just keep walking,” she sighed, lowering her head to pretend to ignore the teenage bimbo. She knew her type. They either wanted an in with the rich girl who learned from the best and had all the connections, or they wanted to prove themselves against the girl they thought was the best. Beating the champ’s daughter would be a real feather in their cap, after all.
“What’s the matter? I just wanted to talk,” Vanessa insisted.
“You don’t have anything better to do, Van?” Annie called back as they passed her by. “I’m not looking to hang out. I thought they just put silicone in your jugs, not your ears.” Juanita tried to stifle her snicker while Sammy just flashed Vanessa and her goons a grin.
“But Annie,” Vanessa chimed sweetly, folding her arms together around her overstuffed breasts. “I just thought I’d ask you about why you flunked out St. Nookie!”
Anne froze in her tracks. Sam and Juanita stopped a few paces ahead, not realizing it had stunned her so badly. Anne’s face was bright red, and the people in the halls had stopped their own conversations when Vanessa shouted over the rest of them. Sam leered back at the grinning Vanessa, clenching a fist readily. Juanita bit her lip and tugged on Annie’s arm, encouraging her plan to keep walking.
Annie pulled her arm free and stomped up to the steadily smiling Vanessa. "What the hell is your problem!?" Annie blew up at her. Vanessa just smiled on as her thugs chuckled behind her.
"What? I thought you didn't care," the busty bitch gloated."Or was that all just part of your cool act?"
“I don’t care! It’s not important!” Annie yelled at her. She hadn’t applied herself, that was all. The place was too strict, to expecting. It wasn’t what she’d wanted in a sexfighting school, and they’d recommended her for somewhere less intense. Bonnie started to step in her way when Vanessa held up a hand, halting her goon guard. “So neither should fucking you!”
Vanessa smirked and put a hand on her hip at the edge of her skirt. “Really? You sure seem to care a lot by how you’re reacting. Then again, maybe your bigshot mom didn’t pass on her talents to you. Maybe your sister got all the special treatment and you got left behind when she went around the world banging strangers while you were stuck at-”
Annie acted in one swift motion. She grabbed Vanessa by the hair and shoved her back into a locker. The blonde’s eyes widened in surprise just before Ann pressed her chest fearlessly into the bigger pair of tits and mashed her mouth on Vanessa’s, forcing a tongue-filled kiss into her lips. Face to face with Vanessa, Annie glared into her eyes the entire time. It was the formal challenge for a showdown in the sexfighting community that even the amateurs knew about. It was the equivalent of the glove slap to the face, just with your tongue instead of a glove.
When Annie removed her lips at last, Vanessa gave her lips a thoughtful lick. “About time,” she purred. “Accepted.”
There was somewhere around twenty different arenas around the school, but Vanessa had led her to the field out behind the bleachers. The cheerleaders and the lingerie football practice was held on the actual field, so this would be out of sight from the teachers or most passerby. Of course, Vanessa and Annie had been loud and flashy about their challenge, so there was still a crowd of girls around to watch. Sam and Juanita were waiting nearby, especially with Bonnie and Teresa there as Vanessa’s well-known muscle. The rest of the kids piled around the edges of the bleachers or peeked over the top of them.
Annie ignored her audience as she pulled off her top, her nipples already hard and ready for battle in the warm air of the afternoon. Vanessa unbuttoned her skirt and wiggled it off her hips to show her stylishly trimmed blonde bush, eyes still locked on Annie and still with her obnoxiously confident smile. “You ready to get your ass kicked? Just like you got kicked out of your last school?”
“Keep talking, bitch,” Annie growled. “I didn’t get kicked out. They wanted me to stick to their hardass schedule and become a boring shit like everyone else there. Since it was that or change schools, I wanted to come here instead.” She stepped out of her shorts and panties in one go, casually baring herself and her plain, dark brown bush in front of her classmates.
“So you were too lazy to make it big,” Vanessa smirked. She undid a few buttons on the bottom of her blouse and thrust her chest out. The tight top and her silicone-layered chest collided until the last buttons were blasted off of her blouse by the pressure of her flexing shoulders. Her breasts bounced around in her bra like a pair of dogs yanking at their chains to be unleashed. “You think that kind of attitude’s going to let you stand up to the sexiest girl in school?”
“Let me know if you see her and then I’ll decide,” Annie replied with a scowl. “Your problem though? You got me to give a shit.”
Some of the random girls started to shout as Vanessa finally undid her bra, her broad nipples aimed straight out at Annie. “Fight! Fight! Fight!”
Vanessa complied and rushed for Annie, her tits thrusting out and smacking into the brunette’s smaller pair. The surgically buffed tits seemed to swallow Annie’s, but she braced her feet and hardly slid back an inch. The naked blonde glared at Annie angrily, clearly expecting her oversized breast shove to take her down in one shot.
"Just because you fight with your tits doesn't mean you have to think with them," Annie taunted, suddenly pulling back and twisting to one side. The change in footwork sent Vanessa stumbling past her instead of pushing through her, the shorter brunette smirking at her playfully. Her mom was on the busty side, but there were far bigger girls in the pro leagues. She'd learned to handle boobs bigger than hers a long time ago.
Vanessa growled and spun around sinking her pink-painted fingertips into Annie's breasts. Anne seemed to expect as much and gave another quick shift of her feet, pushing her arms into Vanessa's wrists and knocking them away. While the bitchy blonde was still off balance, Annie thrust her hips forward to mash her crotch into Vanessa's. The single thrust of her surprising hump sent Vanessa flat on her ass in the grass, getting a few of the surrounding girls to laugh.
Bonnie and Teresa eyed each other and started to move slightly closer to the sexual duel, but Samantha quickly stepped in front of them and glared. Just in case the buff, angry black girl wasn't enough, Juanita stepped up beside her and folded her arms defiantly. Vanessa seemed to catch this and held up a hand for them to hold off before she pushed herself back up. Annie was waiting for her with her hands on her knees, leaning over with her butt stuck back and breasts hanging down in her front.
"Need a breather, blondie?" Annie offered impishly.
"No, but you're going to need a stretcher when I'm done with your pathetic pussy!" Vanessa growled. She was turning red with embarassment for being schooled by the new kid. That wasn't how things worked! She rushed for Annie again, but when she sidestepped the charge, Vanessa turned sharply after her. It cost Vanessa any of her footing, but the whipping breasts connected with Annie's. There wasn't much she could do to endure that heavy of a swing, forcing Annie to hiss and try to recoil from the hit. Vanessa landed back in the grass, but she kicked into Annie's stumbling legs to bring her down with her. The blonde crawled over as soon as Annie hit the ground, mounting her and grabbing her by the wrists to keep her pinned.
"Got you now, twerp twat!" Vanessa gloated, grinning wickedly down at the startled Annie. Vanessa flexed her chest muscles and dropped her jugs like a landslide, Annie's face vanishing into the silicone valley of her cleavage. The blonde grinned triumphantly, and the crowd started to jabber excitedly at the sight of the move that had knocked out various upstarts and geeks in the past. The blonde started to grind her hips against Annie, with the weight in her chest enough to keep herself steady.
However, soon Vanessa frowned and kept trying to adjust her position. Anne wasn't even twitching or thrashing, as if she were comfortable in this position. The longer they stayed in the position, in fact, the more it looked like Vanessa was the one in distress, her face furrowing with concern and her breathing getting heavy. It wasn't flashy, but Annie's counter was a subtle one. She'd turned her head as soon as the breast slam came down, taking the hit on the cheek but keeping her nose and mouth relatively free. It also gave her an angle to latch her mouth onto Vanessa's nipple, sucking and tonguing on it with surprising expertise. Vanessa's grinding was meant to be a show of dominance and making Annie cum, but she had much more self control than that. At this rate, she was basically just forcing Vanessa to masturbate by riding on on her.
Vanessa finally pulled back sharply enough to break the smother, the onlookers bursting into surprised shouts and a few cheers when they saw Annie smirking confidently, even if her face looked a bit sweaty and dirty. Vanessa sat with their hips still joined together, but wiped off Annie's saliva from her tingling nipple.
"Sorry. That wasn't your specialty or anything, was it?" Annie teased, suddenly flexing her thighs and pushing upward. Vanessa flopped onto her back where Annie could easily thrust forward, locking their pussies together with a near expertise; her thighs in dominant positions, leg muscles flexing to gain the most control and least resistance, labia at a central position to force her opponent's open wider, and arms digging into the ground for balance. Vanessa was aware of all the parts of a tribbing duel in a textbook sort of way, but Annie had clearly had a lot of practice.
"Hey! Hey, wait a minute!" Vanessa objected, clearly nervous from the implications.
"You kidding me?" Annie smirked and slammed her hips forward, drawing a loud and startled "OAHHHH!" from Vanessa. "It looks like if I wait any longer, that clit's gonna burst. Let me take care of that for you..."
Annie started to grind rhythmically but quickly while Vanessa struggled to keep up. Annie leaned further into her hips, getting the higher position without fully mounting the blonde. It let Vanessa struggle to match her pace, exhausting and arousing herself even faster. Annie wiggled her hips to part Vanessa's lips, pumping her mound into the wet slit until the blonde started to whimper. Annie pressed her attack there, stroking her pussy lips over the spot until she felt the touch of the blonde bully's hard and moist clit. Anne pushed the very tip of her labia inward and with a bit of squirming on both of their parts, Annie was able to clench her inner thighs and pelvic muscles to trap Vanessa's clit in her pussy.
Vanessa screamed out as her pussy was seized and overtaken by the Snatch girl's privates. She grabbed Annie's arms, pulling herself closer to try to bash her tits into Annie's again. It was a struggle to get there, and the effort it took her to land one smack of her oversized breasts wasn't worth the minor shake of Annie's body. She just shoved Vanessa in the face to knock her on her back again, twisting her position into a full sideways scissoring, sliding back and forth over Vanessa's twat to work her clit like a tiny joystick. The rough treatment of her clitty soon had Vanessa squirting over Annie's crotch while she wailed like a child. Annie kept grinding into her, the slick yet sticky juices sputtering between their tightly locked lips.
Anne took one of Vanessa's legs and forced her to turn over on her hands and knees. The blonde clawed at the grass to try to crawl away, but Annie reached around her waist and grabbed her big fake jugs as they dangled like a pair of udders. The gathered girls laughed at the haughty bully being taken down a peg as Annie fucked her from behind, pulling on her tits like handles to slide her pussy beneath Vanessa's parted lips. "Do... do something, you idiots!" Vanessa blurted out, tears welling up in her eyes. She hadn't surrendered or passed out! she technically hadn't lost yet!
Bonnie and Teresa moved to bail their boss out of the hole she'd dug, trying to push their way past Annie's friends. Samantha braced her legs and bumped her shoulder right back into Bonnie, knocking the husky girl back several feet. Juanita hopped aside from Teresa, but she stuck a foot out and tripped her into the dirt as she fell over.
"Woops! Gotta watch out for those big clown shoes of mine," the Spanish girl chimed innocently. It all bought Annie enough time to keep slapping her pussy into Vanessa's, letting the weakly struggling blonde stare in disbelief at the mocking crowd of her classmates. Her pride tried to hold out and refuse to surrender, but it was hard to maintain when she was being fucked doggy-style in the dirt. Especially when her body was enjoying it so much that she had another squirting orgasm less than a minute after the first one.
Vanessa's juices gushed over the grass as she beat her fist on the ground. "Stop! Stop! I give!" she cried, eyes clenched shut as if trying to keep from overloading her brain on the second incredible orgasm. Annie pulled back her hips from her with a soft, wet sucking noise.
"Not good enough." Annie stood up and grabbed Vanessa by the hair. She turned her around, still on all fours as Annie spread her legs into a wide stance. She presenting her victorious pussy lips parted in front of the loser and patted them invitingly. They gave off a faint splashing noise from Vanessa's cum still smeared over her crotch. "Eat her til she says she's had enough," Annie ordered. Her mom had shown her that one of the real tricks to sexfighting was a poker face. She had kept her cool and controlled most of the fight, but DAMN if she wasn't horny from watching the bitch's tits jiggle and her humiliated expression.
Vanessa bit her pouty lower lip for a moment, but rose to just her knees. She looked up at Annie as if pleading for her to change her mind, but the new girl stared her down unshaken. The crowd egged her on until Vanessa buried her face into Annie's pussy, sucking and licking loudly. Annie had to let out a deep grunt at the sensation. Maybe it was because she'd been so wound up from holding it in for the whole fight, but that tongue and those thick lips felt amazing. If she had used them instead of relying on her tits, Annie wasn't sure that the fight would have gone half as well.
Annie started to roll her hips, smearing their mixed pussy juices over Vanessa's face and grinding her clit over her tongue and lips. To her credit, Vanessa wanted it over with quickly, so her oral intimacy was intense and complex as she hungrily wrapped her tongue around Annie's hardened clit. She couldn't last long before she came over Vanessa's face, flexing her pussy hard enough to let it briefly spray into her face. She gripped the blonde by the hair to hold her there until she finished, hearing a loud gulp from Vanessa to indicate she'd orgasmed right into her mouth. She pulled back at last, legs a little shaky but smiling dreamily as the girls all cheered and laughed. A few calls of "Nice work!" and "Join our club, Annie!" and "Are you seeing anyone!?" stood out from the rabble.
Vanessa spit out a mix of saliva and cum as she glared up at Annie. "This..." she started, just to swallow something again and rub at her naked crotch. "This isn't over. You got lucky," she insisted.
"The only time I got lucky was with your mom last night," Annie dismissed, getting some more laughs. "Any time you want your shit kicked again, dye job, let me know. Just don't be a cunt about it next time."
Annie picked up her clothes, pulling on her panties as she looked over to her friends. "Hey, Sammy? What do you think? Do we have some potential for the sexfight club here?"
The blushing and naked Vanessa looked at her outraged. "What?! No way I'd stoop to-"
"Bitch, I didn't mean you," Annie cut her off. "Bonnie over there." The chubby bully looked back at her surprised, as if she thought they had forgotten she was there at all. "She took that hit pretty good from you, Sam. It would have put me on my ass. And that extra weight down by your hips, that makes for a mean humping, am I right?"
Bonnie Humpston stared some more before rubbing her short red hair. "I mean... Coach McLit said I've got some moves..."
"Don't you dare!" Vanessa barked at her underling.
"Bitch, I am STILL not talking to you! I'm talking with Bonnie!" Annie snapped.The big girl shrugged. She didn't look like your standard sexfighter, but in the end it was about the moves as much as it was seduction. Anne knew a lot of pro fighters who were quite overweight. 2-Ton Tonya held the sexfight title when she was still active, and she was over 300 lbs. It got to the point where they almost wanted to make weight classes until she was finally dethroned.
Anne looked over at Samantha. "What do you think, Sam? You, me, Juanita... don't look at me like that, dufus. I know you don't have anything better to do, and an ass like a poledancer. Bonnie would make four. That's almost your whole team in one go."
Sam smirked back at Bonnie and shrugged. "We'd be glad to have ya. And none of us will call you a fuckin' dumbass like this cunt does."
"I can't believe this!" Vanessa snapped. "You were thinking her over me?!"
"Hey, if you want in, you can join," Annie said. "You're just all talk and posturing and don't know what the fuck you're doing. It was like you couldn't find a clit with both hands and a road map. Bonnie, she's got good posture and a build we can build off of. Weight's in all the right places for a heavyweight pro."
"Uh... yea, sure," Bonnie offered with a flimsy smile.
Sam gave her another too firm pat on the arm. "Fuckin' great to have ya," she declared, and Bonnie's smile widened more genuinely.
"Why not? It sounds like fun," Juanita chimed, bouncing on the tips of her toes excitedly.
"Well how about we talk it out at lunch?" Annie offered as she pulled the last of her clothes back on. "It looks like blondie's going to be a while anyway."
The girls agreed while Bonnie looked back towards Teresa and Vanessa. "You guys gonna be okay?" she offered helpfully.
"You ungrateful, fatass, two-timing...!" Vanessa ranted angrily as Teresa tried to help her up, just for her to shudder and her legs give out again.
"Yea, they'll be fine," Bonnie smiled as she headed off with the rest of them towards the caf.
Samantha nudged Annie in the ribs. "You do know this makes you alpha bitch, right? People are gonna be gunnin' for you."
"Why me? You're still team captain," Annie insisted.
"It's not a club thing. Vanessa may not have been the toughest girl in school, but she was the loudest about it. When you're top dog, everyone's gonna want a piece of you to show they're the baddest, and you just went and schooled the last one in front of about fifty girls. How you think that's gonna go?"
Annie thought for a moment. It WAS a school for sexfighting, meaning everyone had their competitive streak. When she lost her temper, she'd made a big enough scene that anyone who hadn't known who she was would figure it out soon enough.
"I think it'll be interesting," Annie grinned knowingly. "I'll handle it as it comes up."
"Speaking of handling," Juanita piped up, making two large grabbing gestures in front of her. "Did you SEE how you handled the jugs on Vanessa?"
"Oh my god, that was SO much fun!" Annie laughed, the four friends and future teammates starting into their recounting of the day's adventure and planned for ones to come.

Game of Thrones: Missandei vs Daenerys

Daenerys had lost much since her marriage to Khal Drogo. Her new husband was a vegetable after an infected wound grew out of control. She had lost an unborn child. She had been betrayed by who was perhaps her dearest friend. But she had also gained much! She had hatched three dragons that were at her command, and had conquered just as many cities. She had traded with one of the world's most powerful slavers to gain a deadly army of Unsullied soldiers, only to use them to double-cross him and conquer his entire city of Astapor with their own sold troops. Her cunning and power made her one of the most feared and powerful women in the land.

And yet, something was wrong. She was ruthless with her enemies, but kind and sympathetic with her citizens. She had seen how the slaves were treated and was disgusted by it, outlawing slavery as one of her first major decrees. Somehow, she ended up hated by the people. Even the slaves! No matter how clever she was, the delicate dance of politics and economics seemed to slip through her grasp. With the slave market gone, it created a vacuum. The traders were suddenly out of work, and the slaves had nowhere to go. The gladiators had lost the glory of the fighting pits, and the teachers and scholar slaves were now homeless without a master sheltering them. Daenerys was sure there was some way to fix it while remaining at least remotely moral. She had slaughtered an army with dragons and brutal soldiers, but she could at least end slavery with it.

Even those efforts were not going to be easy. Daenerys, her troops, and her supporters were being assaulted within her own city by a group called the Sons of the Harpies. It was some reference to their ancient avian goddess, but also some order of masked rebels that undermined Daenerys wherever they could. Her Unsullied were strong and orderly, but that worked against them as much as for them when they were fighting within their own city against foes hiding in the shadows of any given alley. She didn't understand why the people she was trying to save were attacking her. She was doing what was right! What was fair for everyone! Why did it lead to failure and fighting and death?

Daenerys was frustrated to a point where she saw this as an organized resistance. This was no backlash from random people, but an orderly group of terrorists that was raising all this chaos. If she took out their leader, this singular Harpy who was riling up the ungrateful uprising, she would stop the attacks. Daenerys had been in Slavers' Bay to improve relations with the locals, but she was simultaneously starting to root out who this Harpy could be.

She was still searching for any leads on the location of her foes the streets when the Sons attacked Daenerys. She had an escort of her Unsullied with her, and they were quick to get in the way of her would-be assassins. While they fended off the rebels, one of her eunuch soldiers hurried Daenerys to shelter, ushering his queen and her advisor/friend into an empty house nearby. The dark-skinned Missandei was a  slave gifted to Daenerys when she had traded for the Unsullied, but she had freed her and kept the girl around for company and advise. She was highly educated and cultured, and had helped guide Daenerys through some of her more perilous decisions in ruling her kingdoms.

The house was really more of a single large room, essentially a large kitchen with some chairs on the other side. It had a low ceiling, and while not enough to require the ladies to duck, the soldier couldn't hold his spear upright if he'd wanted to. Old and dull silverware was set out as well as other dirty cooking implements. The three were quiet as they scoured the dusty old place, the clatter of swords and shouts of battle continuing outside the single wooden door. Daenerys sighed, trying to vent her fresh frustrations when Missandei acted swiftly. She drew the sword out of the Unsullied's sheathe, driving it through the side of the soldier's neck before he knew what was happening. The Unsullied were well-known for their legendary indifference to pain, but a sword going all the way through the throat killed him the same as anyone.

Daenerys whirled to face Missandei in surprise. The Unsullied was already on the ground, and the freed slave was tugging at the sword. It was buried deep in the big man's flesh, but it wasn't being uprooted so easily. Daenerys stared in her surprise, Missandei finally releasing the sword and taking the guard's long spear. She tried to turn and aim its business end at Daenerys, just for the rear of the lengthy weapon to hit the wall behind her. The tight spaces were clearly no place for such a sizeable tool.

"What do you think you're doing!?" Daenerys demanded. She was surprised and hurt by the act of her supposed friend, but her fists clenched in anger.

Missandei frowned at her friend. "Those fighting pits you closed? They were a part of our heritage."

"A culture of slavery!" Daenerys objected.

"Not just the slaves! It was a part of our religion!" Missandei corrected sharply. "You execute and desecrate the bodies of our former masters without trial, leaving them out as warnings until our streets reek of death. And when we fought back against you wiping out the people, you kidnapped children of the masters and threatened to kill them. You don't know what you're doing, Daenerys."

"I did it to set people free! To stop the rebels from killing more innocents! And I never harmed those children!" Daenerys pointed out, even though it had crossed her mind. "All these people understand is violence! And it looks like you're no exception."

"You are destroying yourself," Missandei said plainly as she tossed the spear aside. "You took over our cities and felt like you knew what was best. It's hard to blame you, but you only make things worse for yourself and for the people. And you won't stop." Missandei gave a sympathetic frown at Daenerys. "You know you won't until everyone is dead..." The scribe stepped forward, her dress shifting across her dark skin as she steadily met Daenerys' eyes. "Or you are. I'm sure you understand."

"I understand that I've had a traitor standing by my side all this time," Daenerys seethed, glaring back at her as her rage boiled over. "But at least now I have my hands on my Harpy."

"It won't do you any good," Missandei corrected, lashing out and grabbing Daenerys by her white hair. "I will finish you here, take the escape tunnel, and return to the Sons of the Harpy to tell them our ruinous tyrant is dead."

"You lying cunt!" Daenerys growled, swinging her fist into her advisor's stomach. Missandei grunted and stumbled back, arms wrapped protectively around her midsection. Daenerys' eyes scoured the room for any sort of weapon, but when none made itself known, she grabbed the handle of a cooking pot and swung it across her scribe's face. Missandei fell to the ground, groaning and rubbing her face as a sore lump was starting to grow where she was struck. Daenerys ignored any possible sympathy for her and raised her improvised weapon to bring it down on top of her head. The dark-skinned servant saw the shield that had dropped from the Unsullied's hand, snatching it up and blocking Daenerys' attack with a resounding clang. The pot bounced off the sturdier metal's surface, and while Daenerys staggered from the recoil, Missandei turned the shield to its side and rammed the flat edge of it into her lady's stomach.

Daenerys staggered back until her hips hit the creaky old dinner table, her hands braced against the splintery wood. Missandei charged in while winding up with the shield, but the conquering royal leaned into the table and brought her foot slamming into Missandei's dark chest. The scribe staggered back, but regained her footing to rush her former friend with the shield raised in front of her. It might have crashed into Daenerys’ chest, but she grabbed one of the light wooden chairs from beside the table and swung it in an arc towards the traitor.

The old chair shattered to bits, but the impact sent Missandei stumbling sideways. The shield fell from her grip and slid under a table, Daenerys stepping sharply towards her to cut her off from pursuing the questionable weapon. "You dirty little backstabber," Daenerys seethed. "I freed you! I freed your PEOPLE! This is how you return the favor? Scheming against my forces and murdering me?"

"You kill far more than I by starving them in the streets," Missandei shouted back. "Your rule is worse than the choking grip of a tyrant. You are like a child playing king without realizing what you do. You've doomed plenty with the blind and ignorant dreaming of a barbarian’s mad widow!"

Fuming with rage, Daenerys grabbed the nearest weapon she could and swung it at the hated translator.

"OW!" Missandei winced from the sharp but shallow pain of being whacked across her hand by a soup ladle. Both women paused as the former slave rubbed the sore spot, taking an awkward moment to share the feeling that perhaps their deadly confrontation should have taken place somewhere more... dramatically appropriate. Not necessarily fencing on a balcony dramatic, but with one of them saying something poetic about slavery or politics before sinking a dagger into her heart.

Instead, Missandei grabbed a nearby broom and swung its handle into the conquering royal's side. Daenerys winced and grabbed the stick, holding it in place against her stinging side and pulling hard. It yanked Missandei close enough for Daenerys to drive her knee up into the dark-skinned scribe's stomach and knock the wind out of her. She caught Missandei by the hair and dragged her the short distance to the fireplace, swinging her former aide so that her head slammed against the stone of the hearth. Missandei let out a short grunt, knocked senseless when Daenerys drove her head into it a second time and falling limply against before it. She was only dazed rather than unconscious, holding her aching head as the royal kicked her in the belly, knocking her into the old ash and cobwebs left inside the fireplace.

Missandei gave a cry of mixed pain and outrage as her dark skin and clothes were stained by the hearth's contents, spiders scampering for safety off of her hair. Daenerys checked the fireplace for a poker, but while she found none there, Missandei grabbed an abandoned piece of firewood and swung it into Daenerys' knee. The royal's leg gave out and she fell to her knees, though she only sported a notable bruise as a result of the clumsy weapon. Missandei ignored the splinters that scratched against her palms and swung her improvised club again, this time connecting with the side of Daenerys' skull. The white-haired woman reeled from the blow, landing on all fours. She was dizzy, but her body showed little more than some minor scrapes and bruises.

Missandei seemed to leave her be for a moment, since she didn't feel her continue with her beating. She was half right, as the former slave grab the short whip from off one of the shelves. Whoever had owned the house had kept slaves of their own, likely driven out of their home by Daenerys' half-assed politics. Missandei clenched an angry fist around the whip before turning it against her lady, cracking it across her back. Daenerys screamed at having the slaver's tool brought down on her, but she was still wearing her dress to provide some basic protection. The lash still stung like fire and tore some of the fabric from her garment. Daenerys cringed and recoiled instinctively from the cracking whip, scowling back at Missandei.

"Still so desperate for someone to own you, weakling?" Daenerys hissed at her bitterly. She had been caught up in the fight, but a getting another good look at her hated former friend made her blood boil.

"I only want peace and prosperity once again. It cannot happen with you still here," Missandei said. She swung the whip again, but Daenerys saw the windup coming and ducked out of the way. Daenerys rushed her as Missandei got one more quick swing off, leaving a stinging lash across the dragon-wielding tyrant's leg. Daenerys stumbled at the last moment, but still plowed into the former slave and drove her back into the stone wall. The royal grabbed an old clay cup that caught her eye, swinging and shattering it against Missandei's cheek. The treacherous slave gave a pained grunt as the clay and stale water scattered over her, leaving a shallow bruise and multiple minor cuts from the hardened shards, but she clenched her fist around the handle of her whip and punched Daenerys in the jaw.

The reinforced blow sent the white-haired ruler to the floor once again in a daze. She shook her head to clear her vision, just to cry out as Missandei struck her with another painful but relatively harmless snap of her whip. The pain brought her back to her senses, though unfortunately for her, Daenerys' senses were all directed at the dead Unsullied in front of her. The smell of blood reminded her body of the lethality of this moment, and she scoured the floor for anything of use.

The sword was deeply buried in the corpse, leaving it useless. The guards usually carried javelins, but they had little use within the confines of a crowded city full of narrow alleys. The shield had been thrown away, but one thing remained. As Missandei raised her whip again, Daenerys grabbed the spear and swung it upward. The blade couldn't possibly reach either of them at this angle, but she was able to angle it so that the staff end of the weapon slipped between Missandei's legs and slammed into her pussy.

The scribe let out a sharp cry and fell to her knees, hands clutching her womanhood as her legs curled up in pain. Daenerys grabbed her by the hair and pulled her over to the cupboard, slamming Missandei's head into the wooden countertops several times over while she was still dealing with the pain in her nethers. "I would think that the mastermind behind a bunch of ungrateful terrorists would at least know how to fight!" Daenerys snapped at her as she delivered one bigger, harder slam of Missandei's head into the wood. The darker woman groaned and held her head, but she focused long enough to drive her elbow back into her former lady's stomach.

Daenerys grunted and let go of her foe, clutching her stomach instead of Missandei's hair. The scribe threw open one of the drawers beside her, scavenging for another weapon but finding nothing but rusty old silverware. Anything of actual worth had likely been taken with the former owners or picked by any number of desperate masterless slaves. With nothing better to rely on, Missandei grabbed one of the dulled dinner forks and jabbed it into the hand of Daenerys that rested on the counter.

The royal screamed and recoiled, quickly noting that the fork had barely left a mark on her fair skin. It did distract her long enough for Missandei to tackle the paler woman to the floor, knocking several chairs out of their way as they fell. Missandei grabbed and pinned one of Daenerys' wrists as she raised the fork and stabbed it down at her face. The dull implement couldn't do much, but perhaps it could still take out an eye. Daenerys caught her attacker's wrist, holding off the clumsy weapon with ease.

The two struggled briefly before Daenerys gave a furious shout and kicked hard with one of her legs, sending Missandei flying back until her shoulder hit the countertop of the cooking area. The scribe dragged herself back up while Daenerys did the same, but as she charged the traitor, Missandei swiftly stepped aside and swung open one of the low overhead cabinets. The small door whacked Daenerys in the face and had her reeling backward in surprise. Missandei gave a sharp, single laugh at her expense, only to hear the movement behind her. She looked up too late, as the batch of mice that had been hiding in the long-emptied cabinets poured out in a panic.

While Missandei wasn't afraid of mice or vermin, she still screamed in surprise as the creatures poured over her, little claws and teeth pricking at whatever flesh they found along the way. The scribe thrashed to throw them off, shaking one out of her hair before pulling at her dress. Several more had fallen down into her cleavage, and she had to flap her garment a few times to let them tumble the rest of the way down. The rodents hit the ground around her feet and scurried out through one hole or another in the walls.

"I always knew you were a host to vermin, you whore," Daenerys growled bitterly. "But mice falling from your dirty cunt must be a new one." Missandei turned to her to retort, but Daenerys didn't wait long enough to listen to her. She cut her off by swinging a pan hard enough to clang off of Missandei's face, knocking her silly and falling chest-first onto the counter. The scribe groaned and rubbed at her aching head, her cheek swelling from the blow. She could hear the clang of Daenerys dropping the pan in favor of a fishing net. It had a few extra holes in it between rot and especially hungry mice, but it would do the job she needed it for. Daenerys slung the net onto the counter and then pulled back, looping it around Missandei's neck and proceeding to strangle her with it.

Missandei gagged and grabbed at the net, trying to keep it from crushing her windpipe. The rough rope still scraped painfully across her throat, reddening the flesh around her neck where it scraped across her beautiful skin. She staggered around as she tried to pull away, but Daenerys kept her fists clenched around both sides of the net. Her breasts pressed into Missandei's back to limit her mobility. Missandei bounced off one of the walls, her face turning red as she coughed wetly in an effort to stay breathing. She stomped a heel down on Daenerys' foot, and when that failed to stop her, she slammed an elbow back into the royal's ribs. Missandei heard her target grunt near her ear, affected enough by the strike that she stepped back and swung the net to jerk the scribe to one side. The net remained stuck around her neck, but Missandei was able to steal a quick breath of air before she crashed into the table and chairs, sending them toppling over.

Missandei landed painfully amongst the heavy wood, feeling aches where several more bruises were starting to swell. Daenerys secured her grip on the net again, and even another elbow from Missandei into her bruising side didn't cause her to relent.

"It's fitting. As a filthy traitor, I would have hung you anyway," Daenerys panted in her ear, pulling up on the net once more and getting another sputtering noise from Missandei. Her vision blurred as tears built up in her eyes, but she made out a broad shape on the ground. Missandei dove forward, jerking her white-haired assailant with her as she grabbed the discarded shield from earlier in both hands. Daenerys had locked herself in place by her grip on the net, so Missandei had no trouble finding her with a blind swing back over her head. A quick but clear clang told her she had hit her target and Daenerys released her to grab the top of her head and ease the pain.

Missandei forced herself to press her attack, sucking in a deep and painful breath before she spun around, backhanding Daenerys with the shield. A bright red welt appeared on her cheek as the paler woman was knocked into the nearest wall, leaning on it for balance. She tried to push herself back upright, stumbling towards the cabinets before Missandei collided with her again. The treacherous scribe rammed her body into Daenerys while raising the shield, using it to pin the royal's head against the cabinet and lean into it. It wasn't long until Daenerys started to scream as the pressure started making her head throb.

Missandei held her back while breathing heavily, heart pounding as she regained her breath through her rope burned throat. "Your mad reign ends today, you pathetic barbarian whore," she hissed, leaning into the shield to apply more pressure to her former employer's skull.

Daenerys thrashed for a moment, finding her grasping hands unable to do anything worse than scratch and tear at Missandei's dress. With that going nowhere, she grabbed at the counter top for anything available. Missandei saw her probing for a weapon and suddenly removed the shield from its crushing position. Daenerys gave a gasp at the sudden relief, just for Missandei to shove the shield sharply forward again and bash it off of Daenerys' face. The conqueror crumbled to the floor, blood running quickly from her nose. Missandei lifted her shield for another swing, but Daenerys was both dazed and furious. She lashed out wildly with the butter knife she had taken before she fell, leaving a shallow but painful slash across Missandei's thigh.

The scribe gave a sharp cry as the shallow cut shed some of her blood, lowering a hand to grab at the injury instinctively. "You dragon-fucking witch!" Missandei hissed. "You should know the kinds of things an infected wound can do."

"How dare you!" Daenerys snarled and lunged at her, and while the shield kept her body at bay, Missandei couldn't do much good against the small knife. It snuck around her guard and raked along her shoulder, not enough to draw blood this time but leaving a raking scratch running along her dark skin. With its advantage no longer what it was, she used it to shove Daenerys back.

While Daenerys tried to rush in again with her dulled knife, Missandei dropped the shield and grabbed the rolling pin from the nearby shelf. The scribe awkwardly dodged around the thrust of the tiny blade just to bring her newest makeshift club swinging at Daenerys. The white-haired woman recoiled, but it still hit with a loud, dense thump against her upper arm. The momentum behind the blow left a broad red spot that rapidly started to discolor into a bruise. Daenerys gave a short cry of pain, squeezing the sort spot and giving Missandei a chance to come at her again.

The darker woman shoved the royal backward, ramming her back  into the table and bending her over it. She was staring up at Missandei as she raised her rolling pin, catching her by the wrist just before it came crashing down on her head. With a strained gritting of her teeth, Daenerys tried to swing her butter knife into her former aide's chest, only to have the favor returned as Missandei caught her former friend and unwanted ruler's arm as well. Both women were bruised, dirty, dusty and sweaty from all the rolling around the old house.

While it was far from a break to be holding off the other woman's weapon, it was one of the few times they had been left staring face to face with each other. Even filled with her hatred and sense of betrayal, Daenerys had trouble ignoring just how physically attractive her enemy was. Her beauty stood out through the bruises and scrapes, creating a stark contrast on her face of the beautiful and intelligent woman that she knew against the vicious and unrelenting fighter she was up against. In any other situation, it might have been appealing to her.

Instead, Missandei used her higher position to knee Daenerys in the crotch. The royal grunted as the strength left her momentarily, barely able to dodge around the incoming rolling pin. She clumsily tried to aim her dull blade at the treacherous scribe, but Missandei caught her wrist and slammed it against the table. The wood cracked and Daenerys felt splinters scrape against her skin, still pinned by the would-be assassin. When she saw Daenerys still held her crude weapon, Missandei lifted and slammed the white-haired woman's hand against the table again. Daenerys winced as her hand hit the brittle wood once again, her other hand reaching up and clawing at Missandei's chest. It was a testament to the quality of her weapon when her nails were proving to cause deeper, more painful scratches.

Missandei wasn't going to take this lying down, bringing her roller pin around to slam down on Daenerys' trapped hand. The dense thump and the struggling royal's cry of pain indicated she'd hit her target, but the cracking noise that followed seemed out of place. Even in its better days, the table was not built to support two struggling human bodies. The crackling peaked as the table snapped right in half, catching both women by surprise as they hit the floor among the shards of wood. Their weapons fell from their hands, and while Missandei tried to lunge after her rolling pin, it was... well, rolling away.

Daenerys didn't bother reclaiming her weapon, taking one of the table legs and using it to hit Missandei square in the back. The scribe shouted in pain and fell onto her chest, landing among the shards of woods and only missing any nails by good fortune. Daenerys raised her makeshift club and rammed one end into the back of Missandei's head, driving her face to the floor with the rest of her.

"Your goddess Harpy is long dead," Daenerys hissed down at the groaning traitor. "I think it's about time you joined her."

Missandei was clutching at her aching head, feeling a fresh lump forming where she had been struck. With any of her weapons from earlier missing either ruined or out of reach, she was forced to beat Daenerys at her own game. After all, the table had more than one leg. The scribe snatched up one of the other crude clubs and rolled onto her back so that when Daenerys' weapon came down, it met its twin with a dull thud.

"Slaying gods?" Missandei grinned despite her heavy breathing. "And I had thought you were mad with power before." She kicked Daenerys in her stomach; not a particularly powerful blow given her position but enough to drive her back. Missandei stood back upright, her weapon at the ready. She spared herself a half-second to shake her head, shedding some scraps of wood from her hair and tattered clothes, but nothing more. There were far more important matters at hand than her cleanliness.

Daenerys recognized that they were left on roughly equal footing, a fact that neither woman was especially fond of. Daenerys knew that this was a part of Missandei's ambush, and she could have any number of tricks up her sleeve. However, it was clear that her sleeves were fairly empty, given her torn clothing and the fact that if she'd had a real weapon beyond what had been buried into the Unsullied, she would have already used it. Missandei, on the other hand, had originally planned on a quick kill. The longer their fight went on, the greater the chances of them being discovered. Whatever the result, both women were still staring steadily at the other. They were committed to their fight, no matter how chaotic it had become. They were going to see it through to its finish.

Missandei struck first, giving a broad swing with her table leg that Daenerys swept her weapon to parry away. She countered with an upward swing that Missandei stepped back from, landing a quick jab of her club into Daenerys' ribs. She grunted from the light strike and doubled over, but gave another short swing of her hunk of wood to catch Missandei in the knee. She gave a short howl of pain and retreated, giving a warding strike of her own club that cracked into the royal's again. Their weapons were heavy and clumsy, hitting each other hard but with little room for technique. Apart from some uneven breaks around the edges, there was no sharpness to their weapons to stab or slice with. The old wood dented when they swung hard enough, but they pressed on with their limited experience in live combat. As they traded more probing feints and vicious swings, the old wood showed its age as it sprayed both combatants with chunks and splinters.

Before long, the table legs were barely comparable to their original form. They were dented and chipped, showing damage they had taken from the other like two unintentional sculptures commemorating their every clash. Both women sported their share of lumps and bruises, but their largest marks seemed to come from the hefty clubs.

Daenerys gave a furious cry as she took a wide swing for Missandei's head. The scribe ducked under the strike, Daenerys too weary from their heavy-handed duel to stop her out of control weapon. The club smashed into a wall, blasting them both with a spray of splinters as its head nearly exploded on impact. Daenerys flinched and recoiled while Missandei capitalized on the opening. She raised and swung down hard with her table leg, aiming for Daenerys' skull but her surprised retreat making it come up short. It came down just short of her nose, but Missandei felt a surge of satisfaction as it reached Daenerys' chest and caught on something. The royal gasped and froze in shock from the blow, but when the scribe pulled back on her weapon she found it hadn't crushed her opponent's ribs as she had hoped: it had only caught on the top of her dress, the jagged wood tearing off a chunk of her garment and exposing one of her breasts. She was still recalling her club when a furious Daenerys smashed the scribe's other arm and leave a broad, thin bruise in its wake.

Missandei fell to her knees with a cry of pain, clutching her freshly injured arm before she lashed out with her foot, tripping Daenerys to the floor beside her. The light-haired royal landed on her back, the scribe throwing herself at her with her club raised and a scream of fury escaping her throat. Daenerys rolled aside just before it could connect, letting the club snap a quarter of its length off against the floor instead of her skull.

Daenerys scrambled back to her feet, leaning against the wall of the simple home. She breathed rapidly through her nose, her chest heaving as she glared back at Missandei and brandishing the broken remains of her table leg. The scribe hurried into a similar position, adjusting her grip on her weapon with sweaty palms as she eyed up the room for any more viable options for destroying her enemy. As the women sized each other up, Daenerys felt something she hadn't in a very long time: she felt aroused. It seemed out of place, but there was a definite heat building between her legs that made her pause and look over the lovely traitor.

The fight and any such wandering thoughts were interrupted when the door burst in on them. Several of the Unsullied, having dealt with the rebels, broke the door off its hinges and stormed the simple house. Daenerys was quickly brought back to reality as she waved at her culprit. "Arrest this traitor," she ordered. The Unsullied were quick to obey as always.

Missandei knew better than to resist, glaring at Daenerys as she dropped the ruined club. Daenerys had expected as much, but this confirmed her suspicions that her aide had planned on no retreat from their face off. If her plan had gone off as intended, this meeting should have ended in one of their deaths. She had mentioned the trap door earlier, so she certainly had the means to leave at any time during the fight, but had shown her dedication to her cause by committing to ending it here, win or lose. One of the Unsullied bound her wrists and dragged her off, leaving Daenerys to thoughtfully rub her groin before adjusting her dress and head back to the safety of her quarters to think things over.