Rent Wars 2 by Mr. Cage

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I opened the e-mail from William. It simply gave me a web address, a user name and a password. When I used them it instructed me to send a message using that web page’s on-line message service. I waited and got back a cryptic message that read:

“If you download this don’t leave it on your hard drive. And for god sake, don’t open it at work or in public. You will need to use user name and passwords that will be sent to you automatically, but separately over the next five minutes. This is was my highest paying special customers pay me for. I’m actually ashamed how little I have to pay these women to fight like this and how much I can charge for the punters. I won’t spoil the ending, but next time you’re over I’ll have to show you my garden at the estate, the soil is becoming more and more fertile, if you know what I mean. Riya’s grandmother Aarti wears the white mask and her enemy, a Pakistani neighbor named Farzana, wears the green mask. The old girls wanted this.”

I called up my girlfriend and begged off because I had an upset stomach. She offered to come over and nurse me back to health, but I told her it was really bad and might be the flu. That put her off. Besides the only thing I figured I might have to nurse was a raging hard-on. After watching Riya and Melody destroy each other, I had been fantasizing as to what William, the pervert that he was, might be up to next.

I followed the instructions. My DSL line managed to keep the flow coming and I saved the mother before opening. It seemed almost as slow as my old dial-up service was with pictures of the newsgroups. Then I looked at the size of the file and reached for a dvd to record after the viewing. Popcorn and a good white sock were at hand.

William’s special effects were indeed impressive. It looked just as he described it. I remembered the dank basement, but it looked like a darkened arena hall. Only the fighting arena showed up. The crowd noise made it seem like there was a live audience. So there was the bright white wood pen with a white plastic mat covering the eight by eight foot enclosure. The pen was composed of two wooden planks screwed into the four metal poles that seemed to disappear from the camera but in fact I knew supported for the floor above. The bottom plank was flush against the floor and the top plank was about three feet high leaving what looked to be a two foot gap between the planks. The poles were also painted white. I remembered that just out of sight, each of the four poles had a bright spot light and a video camera angled down into the pen. I looked for the changing views and remembered that two standing tripod cams looked over the top of two sides of the pin and two lower cams looked between the bottom and top planks on the other sides. William’s post production had the choice of eight cameras to choose from.

I ignored all his pro-wrestling hype, good as it was, but I preferred to think of them as Aarti and Farzana, not The Queen of Indian and the Beast of the Mountains. To each his own, and I didn’t need this little wrinkle. However I did appreciate a nice stats chart complete with full body pictures. Even more impressively, he had the pictures rotated 360 degrees besides the stats. Then their detail records scrawled up the page. Well done William!

Riya’s grandmother, Aarti, wore a white cloth mask and absolutely nothing else. Her stats said she was 48 years old, 5’5’’ and 152 pounds, 38DD 30 42, with a 9-5-1 record. She had thick grey streaked shiny black hair, obviously normally braided down to the middle of her ass, but now it was free. Her big fat brown boobs drooped on a lushly rounded, but not grossly fat, belly. Big dark brown nipples stuck out at wide angles from the tips of cupola aureoles. Her bush was thick, black and untrimmed. Her thighs were thick and hips wide. The haunches on her ass jiggled but they were still worth a squeeze. Tuffs of black hair curled out between the fine brown humps. Okay, she was old and probably nasty as hell, but well she wasn’t ugly and that was a fine brown ass. Besides, I think I was ready to favor her because of Riya’s earlier performance.

Aarti’s enemy was a slightly darker brown Pakistani neighbor. Farzana was also the grandmother of one of Riya’s enemies, so there was an extra element to it that I knew and the punters who paid for it didn’t. She wore a cloth green mask. Her stats said she was 50 years old, 5’4’’ and 142 pounds, 36B 28 40, with a 10-5-2 record. Her hair was thinner, but still relatively thick, and grayer. It hung free to the middle of her back. Her tits were oblong and without a bra hung down on her belly. Her nipples were much longer and darker than Aarti’s. Whether they could take more damage was to be decided. Other than her soft boobs, Farzana looked to be slightly fitter than her Indian rival. Her legs and ass were firmer. She two was equipped with a thick unruly black bush that stuffed her crotch from front to back and filled her triangle. The Pakistani had won 4 of their 7 fights, so the size differential was not decisive. Farzana had that really tough look that some older women get. She looked like a nasty bitch.

I slid pass some lengthy explanations. I figured I would figure it out eventually, and if not I’d go back and watch it from the front.

So William in his mask is standing in the middle of his little arena with a nude Aarti on the right in her white eye mask and a nude Farzana on the left in her green eye mask. William flips one of those thick British coins, feels like a block in your pocket, and points to Aarti.

Farzana steps back and puts her arms on the rail. Aarti walks forward and slams down an open handed slap on the Pak’s right tit. Smack! The brown globe deforms, jiggles, and snaps back into place, visibly darker even under the rich brown skin. Farzana groans and curses. Slap. The other hand comes down on the left tit, sending waves of pain through it.

Aarti steps back to the other side, hooks her arms and hands over the top rail. Farzana walks forward cursing up a storm in a mixture of English and whatever. I heard, “slut,” “whore,” “slag,” and “hairy cow” among several others. Then there came the crack of a big overhand slap right down on Aarti’s big 38DD’s. Her big lighter brown tit went into flopping convulsions. Before it stopped the other hand came down on the other tit. Aarti squealed, but it wasn’t over. Man did that globe of brown tit flesh fly. Aarti cried out and slumped for a second.

Then it was Farzana on the rails and she took four savage slaps, all down swings on her tits. Aarti took four. Farzana took six. Aarti took six. By now both women’s tits were speckled with broken blood vessels, darkened bruises in the shape of palms and fingers and actually visibly swelling. After Farzana took eight she slumped against the rails crying. William started a count with an exaggerated pro referee’s hand motion. Farzana came off the rail and Aarti’s big fat globes took eight savage strikes that sent the flesh and sweat flying in every which direction. Farzana’s side strikes were really getting the heavy globes moving and smacking into one another. They moved up in increments of two.

After taking eighteen slaps, Aarti slumped and wept on the rail. She rose up at the count of fifteen, I had no idea how long they had because I had skipped over the instructions. Farzana whimpered and closed her eyes to receive twenty slaps. The Indian snarled and slammed down an open handed strike that hit so hard her spread fingers disappeared into the dark brown tit flesh and her palm obviously crushed Farzana’s downward pointed nipples. Farzana squealed, but she had seventeen more tit slaps coming. With each slap the Pak’s knees got weaker and weaker until her ass was resting on the bottom rail and her head was back over the top rail as she wailed.

Aarti finished and stepped back. Farzana’s nipples were weeping fluid now, white with a pinkish tinge. The Pak’s 36B tits were swollen hard now, still long and downward pointing, but you could see fluid gathering behind the nipple bloating the woman’s tits. Aarti’s treatments had enhanced the Pak’s soft drooping 36B tits into hard outward jutting 38DDs and I had no idea how much longer this would last.

Farzana stood up and staggered forward at the count of nineteen. Aarti’s eyes closed and she cursed. I saw in her face a moment of hope followed by despair. Obviously the KO count was very close, maybe twenty. One second and she would have escaped the twenty shots the Pak was about to send down on her big swollen globes. Aarti seemed to be mumbling a prayer for strength or mercy.

Farzana’ revenge started slow with looping side slaps that lacked their previous sting. Her weeping tits were hindering her arms. Then she switched back to savage overhead strikes. She gasped as she lifted her arms and caused her swollen tits to move, but she got her big brown hand up high and came down with a nasty sounding smack.

Aarti cried out and sit down on the low rail. Farzana’s tear stained face twisted into a brutal smile and she slapped down again and again. Aarti’s head finally rolled back over the rail and she called out for some goddess or another. Farzana snarled some curse and hammered the big brown targets again and again. When the Pak was done, she had the Indian’s 38DDs ballooned to at least 42Js. The swelling was more uniform and the nipples were upward pointing now with all the fluid pumping up the volume from below. Of course that exposed the nipples to more direct shot and they had darkened to deep red brown. When the Pak finished, the Indian’s nipples were wet with pink lymph.

There was no count. William took center stage as both grandmothers leaned against the rails. What now?

He announced, “Round One is a tie. Round two is mutual bear hugs and tit to tit attacks. Come to the center, and watch your heads. No head butting yet.”

The two women walked to the center, encircled each other with their arms and cautiously pushed their swollen tits together. Both women groaned, but they got closer and closer until their sweat soaked bodies were pressed together and their bloated tits were crushed hard against each other and ballooning out under their arms. Then they started trying to crush the life out of one another.

Grunting and groaning they first tried to crush the other’s resistance. Sweat poured off them and their long hair was now matted to their shoulders and backs. They’re arms trembled and they slowly wrestled in a brutal dance, but neither had the power to crush the other one out. Then Aarti started shifting her sweaty tits back and forth, rolling her battered globes over the Pak’s. Farzana moaned louded and fought back the same way. Soon be balloons of brown tit fat oozed up and double, back and forth, up under the chin and down on the belly. Both women were crying and cursing with each crushing roll and slide.

Farzana then changed tactics. She put her hands on Aarti’s ribs and pushed her back a step, then she jerked her back to tit slam her. Aarti groaned and immediately returned the favor. Now the two brown grandmothers were slamming their grossly swollen orbs together in rhythm. They closed their eyes and turned their heads to keep the other from seeing how much agony they were in. The tears and sweat ran down their faces, dripped onto their hot swollen tits and covered their bodies. Each wet slap of tit on tit and belly on belly sent sweat and lymph flying.

It went on an on until a bell rang and William stepped in between them. I figured the bell was another of his after effects, clever boy that he was.

The women staggered apart and slumped against opposing rails. Their pain globes had grown even larger and heavier. Farzana’s tits were swollen unevenly, adding pressure to her downward pointing nipples. You could see red drops forming and dripping down to splash on the white mat below. I wondered how much more the Pak’s tits could take before they opened up and discharged.

Both women were in terrible agony and groggy from exhaustion. There appeared to be no attendants or water breaks. Apparently this was an endurance test as well.

William called them both to the center. This time he hooked them up. Right hands grabbed the back of each other’s wet black hair. Left hands doubled into fists. They leaned forward resting their heads on one another’s shoulders. William then put his hands on the back of each head to keep them in place then he said fight.

Left hand started firing up into the each other’s bellies and higher into the bottom of the hanging balloons. At first they fired punch after punch and the damage was hard to tell, but the two old bitches wore down quickly and now it was punch for punch. Farzana worked on the Indian’s belly most of the time. Aarti struggled and hurt her own tits just to drive left uppercuts into the grossly swollen heavy mass swinging from Farzana’s chest wall. Oh man, the Indian was using those tits like a speed bag.

Then suddenly William stopped them. The women backed up and slumped against he rails for a minute or two. He called them forward and they continued with their right fists in the reverse of the first sit up. Aarti again fired high up into the Pak’s pain bags. Farzana suffered terrible, but seemed more interested in gutting the Indian woman. She had some success because Aarti bent deeper and actually tried to cover herself with her right arm after one particularly nasty gut penetration. The battle slowed again and they sobbed and gasped just to deliver one more punch to their hated enemy. I couldn’t believe you could get to people to behave so methodically. At this level of brutality and exhaustion, I would have expected them to just lose control and fight to the finish.

The body punching finally came to an end. Farzana slumped back against the rail, both her nipples dribbling. She tenderly touched her raw nipples and then cried out in agony letting them swing untreated. Aarti dropped to her knees holding her lower belly. She gagged and then puked on the mat. I still had no idea who was ahead.

William tossed a towel down and sopped up the puke and then through it over the rail to the sound of raucous applause, obviously added after the fact. I had to give it to him; my mind’s eye imagined a dark room filled with exclusive secretive clientele cheering on these two old battlewagons.

He called them to the center of his tiny arena. Both women were slick with pain sweat and heaving. I wondered how long it would take before somebody’s heart popped. Then at his instruction they raised their left hands and put them behind their own head, grabbing a handful of their own hair like it was a cowboy hat and they were about to ride the bull. Then they stood with their legs apart. William produced a padded platform that filled the space between them and hit them in the ankles, effectively fixing their legs open. The platform had a camera pointing upward at their hairy crotches. What had my perverted friend come up with now?

At his signal both women dropped their right hands to the other woman’s crotch and they started clawing at pussy and pulling at pussy hair. The view from below was amazing. Brown fingers ripped out black hair, grabbed swollen pussy lips, pulled them out, pinched them, twisted them, jerked them and then clawed at them. The women screamed and kept their positions. From below I couldn’t tell for sure who was winning this crotch maul. Brown fingers penetrated hairy pussies and eventually only brown knuckles, hair and spread cunt lips could be seen.

William then went to a trisected screen. The right side showed Farzana with her head back, mouth open screaming curses and crying out. The left side showed Aarti with her eyes closed and her head leaning forward with a look of grim concentration on her face. The middle section showed the mauling hands, although the view was slightly obscured by falling hair, splattering sweat, dripping cunt juice and now dark red blood.

William called out and the women stopped. They fell back to the opposite sides of the arena and sat on the lower rails with their legs opened. They both examined themselves, spreading their cunt lips and moaning in agony as they saw rich red blood mixing with their juices. He called them back.

To my amazement, these women hated each other so much that they repeated the performance with their now bloody right hands holding the back of their matted hair and their fresh left hands digging away at each other’s sex. Farzana seemed to have the weaker cunt, or Aarti’s fingers were stronger. The Pak’s screams grew and grew. You could see her thighs shaking, slick with sweat, cunt juice and dribbling blood. Then she cried out even louder and stepped backwards. Aarti’s bloody left hand popped out of Farzana’s ruined cunt and the Pak fell to her knees crying.

William grabbed her elbows lifted her up and pushed her against the rail. He held her there with her arms above the top rail. He hooked his leg around her legs and spread her thighs. Aarti approached with a nasty smile on her face. She stiffened her fingers and jammed four stiff brown fingers inside the Pak. William counted with each jab. After two jabs, Aarti made a fist and hammered a hard punch into Farzana’s bloody wet gash. Then William pushed Aarti back and let Farzana hang on the rails.

He called them out again without any real rest. Aarti stood ready; Farzana staggered forward leaving bloody drops with each step. The Pak had been cunt busted for sure.

William announced, “Now that the preliminaries are over the real fight begins. There are no rules. Any woman can call for a break at any time. The cost of each break is three strikes per break, two to the breasts and the other to the crotch. The total number of strikes is cumulative. Farzana has one break called, Aarti has none. The strikes are made with the hand, the fist or with the fingers. No defense is allowed. After that the fight will start again. It will go on and on until this grudge is settled once and for always.

Farzana looked finished. As soon as William gave the signal, the Pak proved me to be wrong. She sprang forward without warning and slammed body to body into the Indian woman. They hit the ground hard with Farzana straddling Aarti, punching down wildly into the Indian’s face and chest all the while screaming a mad war cry. Aarti twisted and bucked, but she couldn’t unseat the vengeful Pak.

Aarti’s nose and mouth started bleeding and she was taking a terrible fisting. In desperation she reached up and fastened her hooks into Farzana’s swollen tits. Farzana cried out and punched into the unguarded face like a demon possessed, but Aarti had her swollen tits in vice-like grips. Aarti took the facial pounding and squeezed Farzana’s tube like tits behind the swollen head, forcing the hot swollen fluid to compress behind the nipples. Farzana moaned as she spurted under the assault.

Farzana grabbed the Indian’s wrists and tried to free her tits, but that allowed Aarti to roll and twist. Farzana cried out as she hit on her side with the Indian still mauling her tortured tits. Aarti rolled on top and started to mount the Pak, but Farzana clamped her legs tight and crushed the Indian’s waist. Aarti gasped and tried to wring out the Pak’s tits before the crushing scissors did the same thing to her waist.

Aarti screamed and moaned as the brown legs of her enemy sank into her flesh, but she continued to maul the hot balloons on Farzana’s chest. Farzana was howling none stop as her nipples squirted pink lymph with each tug. She finally responded by removing her nails from Aarti’s bloody wrists and reaching up to the Indian’s face.

Aarti had leaned over the Pak in agony trying to lever her way out of the waist crush. Instead she had exposed her fine face to her hated enemy’s desperate claws. Farzana left ten nasty, deep furrows in Aarti’s face. Then she used her fingers to dig into the Indian’s cheeks while trying to plunge her thumbs into the Indian’s eyes.
Aarti turned her head and left her cheeks to be gouged bloody. Aarti released Farzana’s bloated, ruined tits and slammed down a double fist in the Pak’s lower belly. The blow hurt and allowed Aarti to rise up on her knees and pull Farzana’s ass off the mat, bridging the Pak from her thighs around Aarti’s waist down to her brown shoulders on the mat. The Pak’s bloody tits rolled upward to her shoulders and continued to leak. Pak reached up and fastened her claws into Aarti’s even bigger balloons and tried to pull her enemy back down.

Aarti screamed as the Pak’s nails ripped her tits, but she responded by plunging both hands into the Pak’s crotch. She pushed her hand ruthlessly between her own heaving belly and the Pak’s hairy mound to reach the bloody pussy that had been leaving its trail on her own belly. Farzana screamed as she was violated once again. Her legs popped open and her ass hit the mat.

Aarti straightened up and gasped as her body rebounded to its normal shape. She took in three deep gasps and prepared to finish her enemy off. Farzana had drawn her knees up to her chest with her hands between her legs. I thought she was in so much agony she had gone to the fetal position on her back. Instead, Farzana drove both her feet straight out, flattening Aarti’s swollen brown globes and then driving them up her chest into the Indian’s face.

Aarti flew backwards and landed hard on her back. She cried out and grabbed her foot stomped boobs and rolled onto her side trying to get up. Farzana took aim and drove her right foot into Aarti’s big brown ass. Aarti’s head was driven into the lower rail. The Indian fell on her side stunned. Farzana rolled onto her hands and knees.

She cried out as the fluid in her tits rushed forward to the nipples under the pressure of gravity. The agony stopped her dead. She carefully cupped each breast and then straightened up slowly. Aarti rolled over and climbed up using the rails. She turned and staggered away ready to fight just as the Pak got to her feet.

I had never seen such savagery in slow motion. These old broads might have lacked speed and technique, but damn could they grudge fight. They were intent on destroying their enemy in the most humiliatingly painful way they could. William had a winner. I hoped he made a fortune, but more than anything I thanked my evil angel for letting me watch it for free.

Pak leaned against the rail sobbing. Aarti pushed her matted hair out of her face and moved forward slowly. Both women were wet with sweat and blood. Their luxurious black hair was tangled and matted. Their bellies and chests heaved as they sucked in badly needed air.

Farzana moaned as Aarti approached and came off the wall. Farzana raised her fists and staggered to the left. Aarti cut her off and they pounded at each other with long slow looping punches. Farzana was forced back to the rails, her nose and mouth bleeding badly from lucky straight on roundhouses. Aarti raised her right foot and stomp kicked to the Pak’s heaving belly. Her foot went in and Farzana groaned and hung on the rails. Aarti grabbed the woman’s hair and tried to drag her off, but Farzana kicked out and took the Indian’s right leg out from under her.

Aarti fell to her knee and then rolled onto her side trying to recover quickly. Farzana had her right foot up and she stomped down. The foot smashed the side of the Indian’s big swollen left breast, stretched it out, slid across the rolling orb and stomped flush on the side of the right boob. The brown orb deformed. Farzana’s foot sank in and squished the fat bag at about a third of its length, blowing up the head of the tit and trapping it firmly under her foot.

Farzana held onto the rail with one hand and balanced all her weight on her tit crushing foot. Aarti screamed and clawed at the leg. The Indian looked up and shot her left arm upward toward Farzana’s gaping pussy, but the Pak was already stomping down with her other foot. She got Aarti on the bicep and forced her arm down. Aarti screamed and kicked up trying to get a foot into Farzana’s crotch, but all she did was cause the dominate woman’s ass to shake.

Aarti screamed out her surrender and William pulled Farzana off the screaming Indian woman. God damn you could watch her right tit swell as she rolled on her back and held it in both hands screaming out curses. William grabbed her hands and pulled up and pushed her to the rail. Then he grabbed her arms and spread her legs for Farzana.

Farzana smiled through her swollen lips and drove both her tit shots into Aarti’s ballooning right tit sending the Indian woman into agony. Then the Pak stiffened her fingers and drove them up into Aarti’s spread pussy.
Aarti’s head snapped back and forth as she writhed in agony on the rail. William pushed the grinning Pak back. Both women were ruined, but they seemed to take sustenance from the other’s agony. Now Farzana was triumphant. Aarti had no more than a minute to stop her crying.

Aarti’s right tit was at least a cup size larger than its already swollen twin. Farzana’s tits were still in worse shape; do to their shape and Aarti’s previous treatments. William stepped out and signaled for the battle to continue.

Farzana moved forward and Aarti walked sideways with her back to the rail. The Pak taunted her and promised to make her left bag look like the right. Aarti continued to move sideways and kept quiet. Finally Farzana moved forward and snatched at Aarti’s hair. Aarti leaned back and kicked out. Farzana dodged backwards.

Aarti came off the rail and delivered a wild right haymaker that hooked into the outside of Farzana’s swollen left tit sending a wave of sweat, lymph and blood flying. Farzana moaned and connected with a downward slam on the top of Aarti’s swollen right balloon. The Indian woman gasped but remained standing and grabbed hold of both of the Pak’s bloated tits, just behind the bloated part.

Aarti jerked outward and Farzana screamed and staggered forward into the Indian. Once there the Pak retaliated with a double handed grip on the Indian’s right breast. Both women were howling and tearing at the enemy’s tit flesh. They had each other squirted hot lymph out of their raw, engorged nipples. Farzana suffered more and was twisting her head back and forth screaming in agony.

Finally, Farzana released Aarti’s injured orb and went for the Indian’s eyes. Aarti twisted away and swung Farzana by her squirting tits in a half circle hard into the rails. Farzana hit the rail hard. Aarti charged forward lifting up on Farzana’s lymph filled tits pulling them up from the chest wall and up at her shoulders. Farzana screamed and leaned backwards trying to climb the rail to free her tits from the agony. Pink dribbles squirted out of both nipples arcing into the air.

The Pak kicked out trying to get to Aarti’s crotch, but the Indian was already pressing against Farzana’s failing legs pinning them to the rail. It looked like Aarti was doing a military press using Farzana’s bulbous tits as weights. Farzana screamed and screamed before finally surrendering.

Now William spread them apart, trapped Farzana against the rail and announced, “Second submission to Aarti. She will have six strikes, four to the tits and two to the crotch.”

Aarti crushed Farzana’s tits with two savage downward chops to the bloated areas a piece. The Pak slumped on the rail sobbing, looking down on her ruined chest. Then Aarti went for two straight fingered cunt stabs. She ripped open whatever earlier wounds the Pak had because the inside of both legs were coated in fresh blood.

The next round found Aarti pursuing a staggering Pak. Farzana was too slow and she got caught in the corner. Aarti grabbed the woman’s hair and jerked her head back and rammed a knee up into Farzana’s bloody crotch. Farzana went for the Indian’s clawed face again, but Aarti was already dipping her head.

I gasped as I saw the Indian’s mouth open and teeth target the engorged right nipple of the Pak. I almost looked away as she bit into the nipple. Farzana screamed and writhed. She ripped out four handfuls of matted black hair before she managed to pull back Aarti’s face, but the Indian wouldn’t let go of the bloody tit. Farzana tried to claw Aarti’s eyes, but Aarti used her free hand and forearm to interfere. Farzana screamed out her surrender.

William pulled Aarti back and Farzana slumped in the corner. Her right nipple was ripped open, hanging by some tissue onto the bloody aureole. A steady stream of lymph and blood dribbled out coating the Pak’s belly. She begged for mercy, but Aarti grumbled and promised to take both the woman’s nipples home.

Aarti delivered six brutal chops to Farzana’s right boob sending obscene spurts of gore squirting out of the torn nipple with each strike. Then three finger stabs to Farzana’s cunt completed the punishment. Now Aarti, despite her enormous right breast, was clearly rampant.

William started the next round and the Indian woman brushed aside Farzana’s defenses and ripped at the right breast. Farzana screamed out her surrender, but William ignored her. A legend scrolled across the screen: “According to the rules you have to last three minutes before you can ask for a break. Farzana cannot surrender yet.”

Farzana went wild and again grabbed the Indian’s face. Aarti pulled her face away and used her left hand to maul the ruined tit and her left hand to choke Farzana. Farzana screamed wildly and put her arms on the rails. Suddenly she had her feet up between them and she pushed Aarti off by feet on the Indian’s hips.

Aarti staggered back, righted her balance, and rushed straight into a savage crotch kick. The Indian grandmother groaned and fell to her knees. Farzana raised her feet again going for a two footed breast kick, but Aarti grabbed one leg and jerked. Farzana came off the rail and landed hard on her ass. Her head hit the lower rail.

Aarti was on top of her in a flash. Straddling the Pak’s legs, Aarti went to work on Farzana’s face with her already bloody hands. She paid the Pak back for all the claw marks around her eyes. Farzana hit back and tried to kick the Indian off, but Aarti was not giving up her seat. She finally got her thumbs in the Pak’s eyes.

Farzana screamed and grabbed the offending hands, forcing them back by bending Aarti’s thumbs. I thought for a moment that breaking the Indian’s thumbs my reverse the tide, but Aarti merely leaned down and bit into Farzana’s right tit again. The Pak went stiff. One of William’s split screen tricks showed the Pak pissing and the pool spreading out between her legs.

Aarti suddenly sit up with a yell of triumph. She had Farzana’s nipple and half her aureole in her mouth. She spit them out in Farzana’s unconscious face. At that time William called the three minutes and pronounced Farzana helpless.

I thought for a moment it was over. William dragged the woman up, shook her until her eyes opened, and then spread her out for Aarti’s treatment. This time Aarti got eight strikes to the tits and four cunt shots. When she was done with that Farzana was hanging on the rails, unconscious.

At this point, a legend scrolled across the screen: “Aarti was satisfied and Farzana was retired from the arena.”
I thought it was over and then William was on the screen and he said, “That was the end of the fight that most members saw. I think you’ll agree it was savage, but in fact Aarti was not satisfied. The remainder of this tape is for you Platinum Cup members.

Aarti wasn’t satisfied. Farzana suffered three more three minute rounds, helpless. During the first she lost her left nipple. The second cost her clit and what looked to be major portions of her labia. Aarti was red with Farzana’s blood after that. The Indian started the third round by digging her thumbs into the Pak’s eyes until the woman was sightless. Then Aarti finished it by stomping on Farzana’s throat. William pronounced Farzana dead and I had no doubt. Aarti desecrated the corpse, shaved the woman’s hair and collected additional trophies leaving a mutilated body for William to dispose of.

Well when that atrocity was over I got to watch William’s promo for the next month’s matches. Well I think I finally found a limit, even if William hadn’t. I’ll be hiding the DVD in my burn box.

The End

Thank you for reading! For more of Mr. Cage’s Stories: Click Here!

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