Boarding School Queen – Part 18 by Ragnar0k

Lying entangled on the mat, their sweaty bodies smeared with sticky milk and breast cum, Susan Walkerburn and Amita Kaur seemed only vaguely aware that Janice was now speaking to them: instructing both girls to sit up and continue the fight from the same position, conveniently obviating the need to separate their quivering, sex-slimed pussies.

As both girls started to stir and move slowly into the new position, their brains were working feverishly to plot the next critical moves that ultimately would lead to victory for one triumphant fighter and ignominious defeat for her rival.

Although Amita’s fierce heart still burned strongly with the desire to fuck this brutal blonde bitch into final submission, she knew that she had just had the narrowest of escapes: after losing her first ever tit-fight with Susan, the Sikh girl had suffered the humiliation of being pinned flat on her back as the blonde wore her down in a powerful cunt lock. Amita could at least thank the stars that she had fought back strongly enough, targeting her rival’s over-stimulated breasts to force a first-round draw.

Amita was still mightily pissed that her own proud breasts had gone down fighting to her rival’s so early in the match; it shouldn’t have been like that she told herself and she began to wonder angrily if Susan had actually been training her tits to win – what a horrible cheating bitch that would make her! Amita’s pendulous breasts still felt so turgid and over-stimulated that she worried that they might easily come again if they went up against Susan’s for any length of time. But that was fine: because she would force Susan to come as well: for as many times as it took to force the hateful bitch onto her back and finish her off with the obliterating pussy orgasm that the Sikh girl craved to fuck out of her detested rival.


As she flexed her crotch and felt her pussy tighten against Amita’s again in preparation for round two, Susan was still cursing her failure to finish the other girl off while she had her best chance.

Mhairi had been bang on the money about Amita not being ready to match Susan’s breasts in the surprise tit-fight she had skillfully engineered, but the blonde couldn’t help suspecting that their next titfight would be a lot tougher, now that the element of surprise had been lost. But the blonde had to admit that she had rarely felt such a wonderful sensation as when her big, beautiful breasts had slammed and squeezed her rival’s fat udders into submission and she was looking forward to renewing that feeling as the girls struggled into a sitting position.

She had also enjoyed the delicious sensation of riding the other girl’s weakening pussy as she held it splatted down on the mat. If only she hadn’t dropped her guard and let the bitch counter-attack her vulnerable tits, her superior cunt would have won the day and she would be embracing her adoring lover by now as they shared the prize of first and second place in the sexfight league.

Susan could feel the cum already starting to crust around her big, hard nipples, as well as the milky ejaculate that had spattered her cleavage and run down her wet belly soaking into her tawny bush. The blonde was sanguine enough to realise that her turgid teats were likely to cum again in the heat of battle against Amita’s big, engorged udders; but Susan knew what she had to do to defeat her rival, and she was getting ready to issue the direct challenge that would start the final round.


It was Susan who broke the silence first as the girls squared up to each other one last time: “Our tits still have unfinished business, don’t you think bitch?”

Leaning in, and lining her hungry nipples up against the Sikh’s, the blonde locked her arms behind her rival’s back as she began forcing her big, long nips into Amita’s equally thick shafts, managing to bend them back slightly within seconds of contact. The Sikh girl gasped angrily and grabbed her opponent in a reciprocal hold, pushing back equally hard until Susan’s long shafts started to bend backwards in turn.

“It won’t do any good you cheating cow – I’m ready for you this time!”

“Well, no more excuses when my tits beat yours this time!”

“You won’t beat me again – you’ll see!”

Starting slowly at first, the girls began rubbing the ends of their thick, sensitive teats together roughly, gasping as painfully erotic sensations were unleashed deep inside their engorged and turgid breasts.

For now, the girls held their heavy, quivering tit flesh back in reserve as they fought, concentrating on keeping their throbbing, equally-matched shafts locked together for as long as possible, as each hard but flexible nub strained to bend its opposite number back and pin it inside its own prodigious areola.

Even though both girls’ nipples were remarkably similar in length and girth, the audience had noted the marked tonal contrast between Susan’s reddish pink shafts and Amita’s dark brown ones, watching in fascination to discover which ones would prove to be stronger this time round.

Staring defiantly into each other’s eyes, their breath coming in short, intent gasps, the two bitter rivals fought on, nipple to nipple, pushing so hard that their thick battling shafts disappeared from view at times as their big areolae closed up around them and started to suck lasciviously against each other.

Still crusted from their earlier encounter, Amita and Susan felt their nipples quickly re-lubricating with pre-cum; and if both girls felt as if their nipples were burning at this point, their raging clits sealed inside their grinding pussies were positively on fire.

Finally, both girls’ heads went slowly back and they began to groan ever more sensuously, their straining tits growing hotter and harder with tension all the time.

Amita was starting to feel the tell-tale signs of pressure building up under her nipples as they prepared to cum, but she kept her aching, overburdened shafts attacking while clenching her leaking pussy to Susan’s ever more tightly, still hoping to delay the moment of orgasm and force her rival to come first.

“Ahhhh… ahhhhhh… ohhhhhhhhh!”

“Unnnnnnnnn… oooooooohhhh! Fuck!”

The contestant’s shrill, simultaneous cries of shock and pain had the girls in the audience frantically craning their necks to try and find out what had just happened.

What was hard for the audience to see clearly was most intimately apparent to the struggling girls on the mat however: the nipple of Amita’s right tit had finally won its battle with the nipple of Susan’s left tit and was holding it pinned back and inverted entirely inside the target area marked by its big pink areola; but Susan’s right nipple had triumphed simultaneously over Amita’s left nipple and now held the Sikh girl’s defeated, inverted nip pinioned in a supine position inside its dark brown areola.

At this point both girls were so close to coming that their gasps and cries grew more deep-throated and breathless as they began to mash their heavy tits together urgently, applying an intolerable amount of pressure on their trapped and straining nips.

As her hypersensitive tits crushed against Amita’s, Susan could feel from the tension building that she was on the verge of a massive climax, but the blonde was determined to take her opponent down first and started ruthlessly pulling Amita’s long black hair.

Taken initially by surprise, the Sikh girl almost fell over backwards before managing to anchor her own fingers in her rival’s blonde locks and retaliating. Suddenly the girls were in a real catfight, hands locked in each other’s hair, tearing at the roots, their eyes burning with tears, until they threw their heads back, shrieking ecstatically, as their heaving breasts erupted and began ejaculating all over each other simultaneously.

Most of the watching girls were on their feet by now, each one chanting the name of the girl they supported in encouragement.

Amita! Amita! Amita!

Susan! Susan! Susan!

Mhairi cursed in frustration as she saw Susan’s head going back as her hair was cruelly pulled by the roots, while her big tits continued to pump out hot, milky cum: what was her lover thinking of, taking on Amita Kaur of all people in a hair-pulling contest when she should be fucking her into submission?

Although her own roots felt as if they were on fire, Amita realised she was gradually winning the hair-pulling contest as Susan’s back started to arch more and the Sikh girl felt an exquisite mixture of pleasure and pain as her trapped nipple sprang free and released another gout of warm milk. Scenting victory, with blood pounding in her temples and pulsing in her loins, Amita Kaur braced herself against Susan Walkerburn and pulled her shrieking rival viciously down to the mat by her long blonde hair.

With cruel deliberation, Amita landed heavily on top of Susan, slamming her aching, swollen tits down on the other girl’s so that the blonde’s big, pale orbs pancaked out to the sides, crushed brutally beneath the weight of brown tit flesh pressing down on them; simultaneously the girl’s massively aroused cunts battered against each other, spreading wider as they released a sudden flood of pent-up pungent pussy juice that rose in a fine mist arousing both grappling fighters still further, its potency soon reaching the rest of the girls around the room.

There was still a fleeting moment when the battle could perhaps have gone either way but Amita was starting to resemble a vengeful South Asian war goddess more and more as she bore down on her rival without mercy, allowing the blonde no opportunity to counter or regroup, keeping her long, struggling pink slit under relentless pressure.

Feeling her rival’s thick, engorged labia weakening as her own reinvigorated fuck lips began to take control Amita managed to raise her head briefly and bare her teeth at Mhairi MacGregor in a crooked victory smile as she pressed down again, and let her own cunt smother Susan’s completely as Mhairi’s lover started to buck against her, screaming in abject surrender as she ejaculated forcefully into the other girl’s victorious vagina.

As Amita Kaur descended on her defeated opponent and prepared to savour her own victory orgasm, her glazed eyes briefly met Mhairi’s across the room again; and this time, the loaded challenge to the reigning sexfight queen was abundantly clear in the Sikh girl’s aggressive facial expression:

I just made your lover into my bitch and, next time, I’m coming for you!

The End

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