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The Silent Treatment
By Wolfboy
Sara and Tameka rematch in a two part catfight with a twisting
Sara didn’t have to wait all that long for her next meeting with Tameka to be set up at least. Within a few days, the strawberry blonde had received a call from the black lawyer to outline her plans for their rematch. At the centre of it all would be a fight in the style of their previous fight, but it would have an interesting prelude, and be held in a location that created some interesting possibilities.
“We’ll fight at the law partnership where I work” Tameka suggested to Sara, “but we’re going to have us a little pre-fight action as well” she said.
“I’m listening” Sara allowed. “Go on”
“I’ve always liked the idea of a silent tit fight. During a conference call here at the office. We’ll sit opposite each other. Hands on inside our office attire. First one to make a noise that gets noticed on the call loses that part of things” Tameka said.
“And that’s it?” Sara asked. “Just a tit fight, nothing more?”
“Hell no!” Tameka replied quickly. “That’s just our warm up to get us ready for a proper catfight. A meeting room locked from the inside, soundproofed. Some rules as on my lawn; we strip topless and fight for one submission. Winner of that is the real winner of the day” Tameka told Sara. She was already sure that the strawberry blonde would accept. Despite winning their first fight, she sensed herself that Sara hadn’t been totally satisfied with the nature of her win. It had been a close enough fight, perhaps closer than the Hong Kong champion might even like to admit to herself.
“Sounds great” Sara agreed, “So just to be clear, I get to maul you, then I get to maul you some more? Where do I sign up for that?” she laughed.
“Just tell me when you can do this, and then we’ll fix the date. I need to tie it in with a proper meeting so we can do that first part. The second part is easy enough; we’ve just rented a second floor in the building we’re in, and I asked if I could keep some stuff in one of the meeting rooms there just for now. That stuff is sound proofing for the doors and some wrestling mats for the floor. There’s not too much chance of us getting caught up there. I think there’s blinds on the windows anyway, and I’ll ask Lara to keep an eye out for anyone coming up there” Tameka explained.
“You’d better hope there’s blinds on the windows otherwise someone is going to see your ass getting beaten again” Sara taunted. It was a friendly enough taunt, but one delivered with an edge. She didn’t dislike Tameka at all, but she knew that the black lawyer was a woman that could and would hurt her, given the chance. She respected that, but she also relished the challenge that the black woman presented to her. “Anyway, who the fuck is Lara?” she asked now.
“She’s my paralegal” Tameka explained. “And she’s also about the only person I know that knows what I do. She thinks she might like to fight some time. You know how that usually ends up” Tameka said knowingly.
“When they start to think that, it’ll usually happen” Sara confirmed. “It’s just about making sure that they know what it’s all about then really isn’t it?” she said.
“I’m talking to her about it. I show her stuff” Tameka confirmed. “At some point she can watch me fight and learn close up what it’s like if she likes. Show her that it’s not slap and giggle stuff. Then we’ll have a chat about me finding her an opponent” the lawyer suggested.
“Sounds about right” Sara agreed. “Let me know if I can help. She can watch me fight you if she wants to see it?” she suggested.
“Appreciate it” Tameka told Sara. “But this one is woman to woman, and she needs to watch the office for us” she pointed out.
“Fair enough. Bitch to bitch it is then. I’ll have your fat tits leaking again in no time” she taunted Tameka.
“Bitch please...I’ll milk you fucking dry this time” Tameka shot back before the call finished. Only the exact details and date needed to be set up. None of that would be a barrier to two women that wanted to fight each other.
* * *
It was only a week later that Sara found herself in the slightly unfamiliar setting of a Washington law firm office having been booked in as a prospective client before Lara has delivered her to an office where Tameka was sat behind an impressive desk. The two women shook hands formally, keeping things looking like a business meeting. “Lara” Tameka said, “this is Sara who I told you about. She’s a very important but challenging client” Tameka told her paralegal as the door to the office was still open. Sara shook hands with Lara who looked like a light had been switched on in her mind now, and she realised who this really was.
“Ahhh….well you’ll be needing a spot of privacy for your first meeting of the day” Lara smiled. “It was nice to meet you Sara. I hope you both have a good meeting” Lara said, excusing herself from the room. Tameka followed her to the door so that she could lock it from the inside now to ensure their privacy. Then she turned her attention to Sara again. “So the call will start in about five minutes. We just listen in as it’s a kind of state of the company monthly meeting, but I won’t mute our phone. We go hands on inside our clothes, and you can use any style or tactic that you want. First to make a noise after initial contact loses this section. Then we’ll go upstairs and finish this off. OK?” she asked Sara.
“Just fine” Sara agreed. “I can’t wait to get stuck into you again” she told Tameka.
“Same here. Your blouse will be stained with your milk bitch” Tameka taunted in return.
“Well that’s all good” Sara smiled evenly. “but you won’t be quite so happy when you’re crying in defeat slut!”
“Cunt”
“Bitch”
“Slag”
“Whore”
The time for words was over, quite literally as Tameka unbuttoned the top three buttons of her blouse to allow Sara access. Sara did the same to her blouse now; both still left their jackets on as well, and neither woman wore a bra. The rules were predetermined. Hands on inside the clothing, no breaking of the grip other than to quickly establish a better grip, mauling only. Nails were legal; both ladies had them to use if they so wished. Defending was not allowed in this part of the fight, only attacking while resisting the pain brought by the other. The fight would end if one uttered a word. If they fought in silence then it would last the duration of the meeting. Tameka pressed the button on the phone to join the call a moment or two early, then she nodded at Sara, and each took their respective grips with one hand on each breast of the other woman. With the call open on the phone, neither would speak. They simply looked at each other, each nodded and in silence their battle began. Immediately pain registered on the faces of both women. Tameka troubled Sara a little, simply with the power of her grip, strong fingers kneading each breasts painfully. At the same time, Sara squeezed Tameka’s left breast in the same style while she twisted and pulled at her right nipple, working each differently and trying to gauge the lawyers response to each style of attack. Both faces were impassive though as the call began with an unseen voice saying “welcome to the monthly review presentation”.
From that point on, neither really heard a word of the presentation, such was the way their focus fell slowly to be more and more on the other. Tameka squeezed and mauled, her style not changing as she continued to work methodically, softening up both of Sara’s breasts. At the same time, Sara continued to twist and pull, monitoring the effects, but the black woman was stony faced as they sat, knees touching, facing each other on the two office visitor chairs. Tameka noticed the slightest flush coming to Sara’s cheeks, the first even remotely evident sign that either woman was in any trouble, or even feeling the attacks at all. Each could discipline themselves to show no clear sign of being troubled, but there was no way to hide the physical signs such as that. At the same time, Sara grabbed Tameka’s nipple, pulling sharply with the stiff nipple already twisted, and she thought that she saw the tell tale signs of a bead of sweat on the black woman’s forehead. Each was impassive though, the mauling passing the five minute mark with neither securing any clear edge, and neither about to stop looking for one either.
Sara was the first to switch her grip, going to the double nipple attack and being rewarded by the sudden flash of recognition in the eyes of Tameka as she felt both nipples cruelly tortured. The black woman continued her slow methodical style of attack though, her fingers digging deep into Sara’s big soft breasts, to work her over. Was the black woman playing the long game perhaps, foregoing a win in the tit fight to have Sara in more trouble of being milked in the catfight that was to follow? Both women knew that breast attacks would form the crux of the main catfight, should this round go on long enough. Any suggestion that Tameka was looking further ahead was quickly disproved though. She switched her grip up now, suddenly, surprising Sara as she went to two hands on her right breast, bringing a flare of pain to Sara’s eyes as she almost forgot herself, starting to break her grip to remove Tameka’s hands before she recalled the rules and strengthened her grip once more.
In the background, the call continued, a voice droning into the void as far as both women were concerned, straining their ears only to hear if their rival uttered a sound. Sara’s face showed the effort that was involved in resisting the pain. A look that was reflected in Tameka’s, although maybe her eyes betrayed that little bit more confidence as ten minutes went past in the tit fight. Her double handed grip had surprised Sara and now her choice of attack slowly revealed her plan behind it. Her left hand worked from the very root of the breast out towards the nipple, smooth, firm movements, massaging the soft breast tissue with force while her right hand continued to maul, nails dug in to the flesh with increased intensity. If it hadn’t been clear to Sara before, she could feel it now, this bitch was trying to milk her again, and this time she couldn’t defend against it!
Her only option was to attack, her efforts redoubled as she too switched to a double handed attack on Tameka’s right breasts, working the nipple with one hand, squeezing with nails dug in on the other hand. The pain was there in the black woman’s face, and so was that confidence still, sure that she could take this longer than Sara who she worked with a little more urgency now. Sara had to stifle a groan in her throat now, though she was still trying to attack with abandon, but she knew the fight was nearing that point where one or both would make an involuntary noise soon enough, there was no two ways about it.
Tameka’s eyes stared piercingly at Sara’s for a moment, then as Sara worked her fingers again, did they just close for a moment? Just a split second longer than a blink, almost disguised as such, but Sara spotted it and thought that just maybe she had her woman. Then Tameka smiled at her. She’d worked this woman’s tits fiercely for over ten minutes and now she was smiling? Sara realised too late she’d been playing Tameka’s game all along and the black woman had her closer than she’d have liked to admit to expressing milk. The game was almost up, Sara bringing her nails into play more as it was she who was now playing the long game, causing some pain that she could use in the catfight. As the voice on the phone said “we took on an additional eight new cases last month, and we’re going to start expanding to the 12th floor from next week”, one last squeeze of Sara’s breast came and Tameka felt her hand warm and sticky. She had her, sinking her nails in even as Sara finally whispered “stop”.
First blood, or should that be milk, to the black lawyer who wiped her fingers on the front of Sara’s white blouse as she stopped mauling her, and pressed the button to mute their end of the call. “I told you that I’d fucking milk you bitch!” she told Sara, a look of glee on her face as she said it.
“You’ve won fuck all yet slut” Sara shot back, though it was undeniable the boost that winning the tit fight was going to provide for Tameka. She also knew that her breasts, and her right in particular, made targets for Tameka now in the catfight. The black woman was a very capable fighter, so she would need to have her wits about her. Despite that caution, she wanted to fight now, keen to lock horns further with Tameka. “Let’s fight now” she told her.
“You don’t want your tits to stop leaking first bitch? Tameka sniped.
“What? So you can start them up again?” Sara asked. “Why bother. I’m here as a client, so ditch your stupid call and lets go, cunt” she demanded.
“Fair enough” Tameka shrugged, killing the call before quickly picking up the phone and dialling 7. “We’re going up now Lara” she said into the phone. “So far so good” she confirmed then to an apparent question posed by Lara. “Please give us a call in the conference room if you need me for anything” Tameka finished, meaning of course if someone had elected to go to the 12th floor. It was unlikely, but Tameka had considered every possibility, and frankly it did add a little to the excitement. Then she put the phone down, stood up, buttoned her blouse and adjusted her jacket as Sara did the same, and then she walked to the door to lead Sara out into the main office so that they could walk through to the stairwell. As they did, Tameka looked to be pointing things out in the office to her visitor, but her voice was low so that only Sara could really hear what she was saying. With a smile on her face, she quietly told the strawberry blonde “I’m going to rip your tits up so bad, your next title match is going to be all over as soon as she touches them, bitch”.
Sara laughed lightly, the smile staying on her face as she played along and quietly replied “I can’t wait to show you off like those cheap whores that you defend. I’m going to post a picture of your naked, beaten ass on social media for the whole world to see!”
“I’d fucking take you apart if you did bitch” Tameka smiled in return as they got near to the door to the stairwell.
“Whatever cunt” Sara spoke softly, but the words were laden with her harsh thoughts. “Ashamed of showing the world your body, or that you can’t fight? Which is it?” she probed.
“Bitch please….” Tameka smirked as they hit the stairwell. “I’m going to make you my own personal dairy cow this morning!”
“Whore” Sara replied, the need for the smile gone again now that they were back in private to an extent.
“Cunt” Tameka sniped back, her smile gone as well now. Two flights of stairs would pass quickly and then in a few short moments, it would be time to really fight.
“Going to smother you out while you fucking cry” Sara told Tameka now.
“You put those udders anywhere near me and I’ll fucking drain you slut” Tameka threatened. That was a threat that Sara knew very well Tameka could bring to fruition with her style of fighting. Now the short trip across the deserted 12th floor passed in a stony silence, both with their eyes set on the door of the small conference room where they would fight. Both understood the assignment that was to come; this would be the main course, a hard fight for one submission between two powerful, tough women, neither of who would give an inch when it started. Tameka opened the door, Sara followed her inside and took in the interior of the room. It was bare, stark white plaster, on three walls, only broken up on the fourth by two small windows and the door they’d entered through.
Tameka already had the blinds drawn at those windows, with the room illuminated by two harsh strip-lights than shone brightly from their moorings on the ceiling. Neither woman said a word still, instead just starting to quickly strip out of their business suits, having placed their high heeled shoes neatly just off the edge of the mats. Skirts and jackets were folded neatly, blouses then placed neatly on top of those, before each rolled their stockings down their legs to add to the pile. Both liked the aesthetic of the stockings, but neither was prepared to forego the better grip of bare feet for that aesthetic. Finally, hair was released from the two functional, businesslike ponytails each had fashioned their hair styles in to.
Finally, each stepped out to the centre of the bright blue wrestling mats, confident although their breasts already showed the effects of the tit fight, clearer on Sara’s lightly tanned skin than on Tameka’s “You understand the rules?” Tameka asked, reiterating them to be “anything goes below the neckline, no time limit until someone submits”.
“Got it” Sara confirmed with a nod. “Well. I’m Sara. I’m 5 feet 8 inches tall, 175lbs, 38E-29-40 and I’m 38 years old with a record of 47 wins and 17 defeats the strawberry blonde stated for the record.
“You got bigger, bitch….soon you’ll be a real woman’ Tameka sniped, before saying “I’m 5 feet 10 inches, 186lbs, 40DD-28-42, I’m 39 years old and my record is 20 wins and 2 losses” she said.
“Oh, that’s right isn’t it” Sara taunted, “you lost last time didn’t you?”
“Fuck you” Tameka shot back. “Shut your bitch mouth and fight!” she told Sara.
“Sure...let’s go slut” Sara agreed readily, no signal needed to start the fight and she started to circle with Tameka, taking care to move so that her right breast was furthest away from the black woman. For the time being, Tameka would play that game as well, prepared to circle, knowing that sooner or later, she’d trap Sara and get to work that breast over again.
“Can’t believe you aren’t wearing red bitch” Tameka noted as she landed the first slap of the fight to Sara’s face. Delivered by an 186lb woman, even a range finder carried some force and Sara was rocked slightly before refocussing herself.
“Thought I’d surprise you” Sara replied, delivering a slap of her own to crash off Tameka’s cheek as she referred to the electric blue G-string she’d elected to wear for the fight today. Her slap lacked nothing for power either, causing Tameka to touch her face for a moment. “You’re predictable though bitch” Sara shot back, referring to the gold G-string worn by her opponent.
The two circled a moment longer, the back’s of those G-strings already threatening to be devoured by their curvy asses, exchanging a couple more slaps, and then the fight was on, suddenly and violently as each closed in fast on the other, bodies slamming together as they both secured a left hand full of hair, pulling hard on that. Tameka pressed her breasts into Sara’s feeling the sharp stabs of pain that Sara’s fingers had caused in the tit fight, but knowing the blonde felt them too, hopefully even more so. “Bitch” Sara moaned, but she was on the attack, whipping a right hand into the ribs of the black woman to test her. “Cunt” Tameka fired back, a punch of her own landing into Sara’s body as well as the two continued to grind their bodies into each other. The black woman’s extra height coupled with a better grasp saw her just able to force Sara’s head back a little, nails in close to the scalp with her hair hold to make sure it was tough for the strawberry blonde to not comply. It just opened up enough space for her to send a slap down on to the top of Sara’s right breast, even as it was pressed together with her left. Tameka felt the shock-wave of the blow through her own breast as well, so she knew that it had registered well on Sara, but to her credit the southern belle maintained her silence as yet as the opening of the fight rumbles on in this clinch at the centre of the room.
Tameka punched to the body now, left hand sinking in to the ribs of the strawberry blonde who fired back in a similar style, knuckles meeting the body of the fighting lawyer. Each strengthened their grip of the hair and had a moment where they looked like they might just start to walk each other around the room before they met resistance. Sara tried for a knee now, aiming for the body, but thwarted just as it landed on the outside of a defensively raised thigh, absorbed for now by the thickness there as it just threatened her balance slightly. “Cunt” the lawyer spat at Sara, the strawberry blonde laughing in reply despite the pain in her scalp as she told Tameka “yeah, that’s what I’m aiming for!”
Punches were exchanged now, short sharp blows, dug into the curves of the other woman, but soaked up in the early going without too much trouble. As Tameka slapped Sara’s face hard, it was clear that these were two tough women, prepared to fight, and not prepared to give ground to the other. The stand up fighting continued for now as Sara slapped back to the face and then got her nails into the side of Tameka’s left breast where it was still pressed tightly into hers. There was a grimace on the face of the brawling lawyer now; just for a split second as Sara’s grip made it tough for her to retaliate against her right breast. Instead, she slapped to the face again, starting to redden Sara’s cheek nicely just now, and then she kicked her to the inside of the leg, just widening Sara’s stance for a moment. “Bitch” Sara complained as that landed, though she simply grabbed the hair harder, and dug her fingers into Tameka’s breast deeper to help her retain her balance for a moment.
The struggle between the two continued in this way a little while longer yet, punches exchanged, the grip of the other’s hair strengthened and adjusted as they looked to try and work the other’s head around by it. Still there was no clear sign of an advantage for either as Sara broke off her breasts mail and tried to send a stomach punch into the tight confines between the bodies of the two fighters. It was largely ineffective and with her fingers out of Tameka’s left breast for a moment, she found Tameka taking that chance to sink straight into her right breast. Sara’s eyes flared with pain, and she retaliated quickly with two right hands to the body of the black woman, but then Tameka kicked her calf again, and she stumbled down to a knee in front of her. This was not the place to be, and Tameka’s knee, driven straight between her breasts showed her that as it knocked her to the mats. Tameka was on her in a flash now, moving with a speed that only went to increase her impact as she landed across Sara with what wasn’t really a splash, more just a heavy landing as she took the quickest route down and went to work. Showing Sara that she knew how to wrestle, she secured a good cross pin first of all, Sara’s left arm trapped particularly securely between her thick ebony thighs. Their fingers duelled for control of Sara’s right hand, Tameka’s fingers interlocked with Sara’s as she fought hard to avoid it being pinned to the mat. And the she realised that control barely mattered anyway, because Tameka had her own left hand free, and she punched Sara in the belly with a force the strawberry blonde knew she’d rarely been hit with.
Her groan of pain told Tameka that it had been a good one as well, and despite her experience, Sara was left open to attack for a moment as she reacted to the heavy punch, legs spread a little too wide and sucking in breath; Tameka’s hand was straight between those legs. Sara’s electric blue G-string was shifted aside with ease as Tameka’s strong fingers probed her womanhood, looking to cause pain. Belatedly, Sara tried to cross her legs only to find it was really too late for that kind of defence to work. “Nice try” Tameka taunted, fingers inside Sara’s pussy now, her clawing attack just about to really find the mark. “Slut like you always lying around with your fucking legs open!” she sniped gleefully, working the pussy claw and drawing the response she wanted from Sara.
“Aaaaaggghhh….oooowwwww…..fucking whore! AAAGGHHH!” Sara cried out loudly, in pain as Tameka showed her that while she loved to maul breasts, she was very adept in working a crotch over too.
“Weak fucking slut” Tameka challenged Sara now. “Might as well submit before I cunt you and make you bawl like a baby!” she told the strawberry blonde, working her crotch maul again. Sara writhed and squirmed, but she was pinned pretty securely here, and both of her hands were controlled by Tameka as she tried to free her arm from being held firmly between her rivals thick thighs. She go to the position where she could smack at Tameka’s ass, but the move had no real force, the black woman telling her “that’s nice” before she worked her crotch maul again and made Sara scream out in pain. “Give up you fucking pussy!” Tameka demanded now.
“FUCK...NOOOO!” Sara cried out as the lawyers fingers continued to work away inside her, an agonising punishment, perhaps driving her towards a quick submission and defeat. She groaned and writhed, her body wracked with pain even as Tameka broke off the crotch maul and delivered another heavy punch to the body. “JESUS….FUCK” Sara groaned, teeth gritted as Tameka went straight back to the crotch maul on her again. “Give up you bitch!” Tameka demanded as Sara’s eyes screwed shut in pain, and her hand swatted at Tameka’s ass ineffectively. This was a desperate looking situation for Sara, but in her dominance, Tameka had failed to notice that the arm between her thighs had worked its way a little more free. Instead of trying to release her arm from the grasp though, Sara had in fact worked it deeper between Tameka’s thunder thighs, giving herself the flexibility to surprise the black woman. She did this, even as she cried out in pain herself, shifting Tameka’s gold G-string to one side and simply oil checked her with two fingers in her ass. The lawyer howled “Oh shit….you dirty cunt!” as she felt herself violated by the strawberry blonde, but it had the desired effect as Tameka’s body got rigid for a second and Sara timed her move right, able to bridge and buck the powerful woman off her.
That saw both women apart for the first time since the action had really got underway now, and they circled while both arranging their G-strings to sit more comfortably. There were no words for now, just the stern expressions of two women who both felt pain, yet were only focussed on how they would dish more of it out to the other woman. Slaps started to fly again between the two women, landing around the shoulder, the face, and the breasts. The breasts...of course both targeted the other woman’s, trying to take advantage of the groundwork laid there during the tit fight. Sara’s palm crashed down on to Tameka’s right breast, just as Tameka’s crashed into hers, both feeling the sudden pan as each called the other a bitch and tried to continue as if nothing had happened, while hair was grabbed again now, bringing the two in closer contact now. This time, Sara struck tellingly, not with a blow, but with a degree of cunning about her, bringing her second hand in as if to slap Tameka, but instead she sent it behind the black woman’s head and gripped there to jump up and trap her in a body scissors. Tameka was a strong woman, but Sara’s powerful thighs cut in her body straight away as she made her carry her 175lb frame around the mats for now.
“Nnnngghhhh…...fucking whore!” Tameka protested, but with both of Sara’s hands clasped through her hair behind her head now, there was an evil glint in the eyes of the lawyer who saw Sara’s right breast, marked up, undefended there in front of her. With thinly veiled glee, she sunk into it, a slap with the left hand converted to a grab with the nails around the nipple. Then her right hand gripped near the root of the breast again. “Get ready to get fucking milked you bitch...unggggghhh!” she told Sara, who tensed her thighs to hurt her even as her hands started to work Sara’s breast again. The blonde bit her own lip to stifle a cry, a mixture of surprise and pain at Tameka’s bold breast attack, and she squeezed hard again as for now, the black lawyer continued to carry her, legs around her waist, as she walked around the mats. As each worked their respective holds, Tameka was eyeing up a suitable section of wall to walk Sara into, so that she could effectively pin her there with her back to it, supporting a bit of her weight while she worked the breast of the strawberry blonde some more.
Sara gasped a little as she was pushed up against the wall, the plaster cold against her warm bare back, but she was able to take one hand out of Tameka’s dark hair to slap her face. Now she preferred the effect of landing a number of fast slaps, lighter but still not lacking too much force. She reminded Tameka through gritted teeth “think how your face will look in the office later on...all swollen and sore….someone might ask questions, slut!” as she kept up the tempo of fast slaps.
“Unlikely….you hit like a bitch anyway” Tameka shot back smartly, even as Sara kept up her attacks. She was focussed on her own attack still, a mixture of massaging and mauling, recreating the effective attack that she’d used on Sara in the tit fight. Both women knew that it would bring a result even quicker now in this fight, but Sara continued to slap Tameka’s face rather than defend herself. “You’ll be the one answering the questions bitch….about why your tit milk is soaking through your blouse!” the fighting lawyer pointed out as her fingers worked that little bit harder at Sara’s breast.
“Ooohhh….fucking cunt!” Sara moaned, feeling that the inevitable wasn’t all that far away, and this powerful woman was about to milk her expertly. It was her style it was clear, but Sara was clear as well that getting milked on it’s own wasn’t a submission; she would still have the chance to strike back. She weakly pawed at Tameka’s breasts herself now for a moment or two, ineffective enough it seemed; it was the sawing power of her thighs that brought the grimace to Tameka’s face again here. It didn’t look enough to hold the black woman off though, and even as Sara punched to her ribs, she shook it off, just telling the strawberry blonde “You’re getting weak bitch, I’m going to fuck you up!”
“Nnnngghhhh…..Ooohhh fuck” Sara moaned loudly now, her hands going behind Tameka’s neck almost in an embrace to support herself rather than a hold as she found herself worked over with clear intent and purpose by the strong fingers of Tameka. “Oh fuck….that’s right bitch. It’s coming!” Tameka replied, taunting Sara with confidence. She wasn’t wrong either. It was coming, Sara knew; she was resigned to that fact as the first of her breast milk moistened Tameka’s fingers. It was what came next that she was counting on. Her grip was weak around Tameka’s neck, making sure that she saw no real issues with that at all. She had Sara right where she wanted her, despite that tight scissor hold still crimping her around the short rib, just making it enough of a challenge for her to fully catch her breath. The strength of that scissor hold ought to have told Tameka to be cautious; instead she dipped her head forward, content to have drawn milk, so that she could start to suck on Sara’s nipple to really get the milk flowing. It was only then as the warm moistness touched her lips that she realised her mistake as Sara tightened her grasp behind her head. Lacing her fingers through Tameka’s hair, and held her face very firmly in her breast for a smother.
Now there was a panic in the muffled voice of the lawyer as she muttered “fuck no” and tried to push her way free of the hold. Sara’s arms and legs held her firm just about for now, riding out that first bid for freedom, and knowing that more determined attempts would have to follow from Tameka. Sara kept squeezing with her scissor hold, thick thighs working to squeeze Tameka hard, pulsing the power on and off as she did so to increase the impact. Tameka slapped at Sara’s thighs now, heavy and hurtful shots that left red palm prints on Sara’s tanned skin. The strawberry blonde was unmoved, tightening her grip of the hair as she braced herself fro the next attack which came in the form of a series of punches to the body. Sara felt her grip weaken just slightly with each blow, but as the steam went out of Tameka’s assault, and then the attack stopped altogether, she was able to tighten her scissor hold once more, drawing a muffled groan of some desperation from Tameka. “You’re fucked bitch!” Sara taunted, even as Tameka continued her work, trying to suck her breasts. The blonde knew the black woman simply couldn’t do anything about getting free though for now, and there was a slight tremor in her legs. Was Tameka just starting to fade a little in her hold.
The desperate whine of “can’t fucking breathe” came now from Tameka, something Sara with her penchant for smothering a woman had heard many times before in her career as a fighter. It brought a slight smile to her face as it so often did.
“Well submit then” she told Tameka, helpfully suggesting “or shut the fuck up and save your breath you dumb slut!”
The response from Tameka wasn’t quite predictable. She was a tough woman who didn’t simply fold at the first sign of any trouble. She would fight to try and get out of the hold. She reached to paw for Sara’s face for a moment, only to think better of it when she felt Sara’s teeth nipping for her fingers. She groaned in despair again, then in one seamless move she spun Sara off the wall and dropped to her own knees on the mat, driving Sara down with all the force of a body slam as she did it. Sara moaned, her grip of Tameka’s hair lost at the cost of a few strands of hair for the black woman, and her legs remained around Tameka’s body, but without her ankles crossed as she recovered from the heavy impact. Fortunately for her, Tameka was more concerned with hungrily sucking in air herself just now, such had been the effect of the smother on her, instead of going on the attack when she had Sara compromised for a moment. The foot of the strawberry blonde slamming into her chest, signalled the end of that brief opportunity to re-establish control, and Sara grabbed the chance again as Tameka was knocked to the mat, having had some of her breath snatched away.
“Get up bitch” Sara admonished her, not waiting for a moment for Tameka to comply as she went straight to her hair to peel her up off the mats. She wanted to put her back there quickly though, sliding a hand between her thighs to lift her for a draining body slam. There was a brief moment, a look in Sara’s eyes, that said have I misjudged this as Tameka briefly resisted, before adrenaline took over and with a loud grunt that belied the effory it had taken to lift 185lbs of Tameka into the air, she got her off her feet. She planted her with an authority now, drawing a loud moan of pain from the fighting lawyer as she did so, and immediately she sized her up for a heavy leg drop straight across the breasts. Tameka’s lower body jerked up for a moment from that impact, and then her legs crashed back heavily to the mats, and Sara could see it in her eyes that this was still a tired woman from the smother. She moves hastily into position to make that worse straight away, but for once she didn’t use the breast smother to stop an opponent from really catching their breath. She realised that however in control she seemed to be, she couldn’t risk putting her breasts back in Tameka’s face, knowing that instinct would see the black woman take advantage f her still leaking breast for sure. Instead, she took up a position squarely on Tameka’s face in a reverse face sit with Tameka’s arms trapped by Sara’s legs for now. She sat their lightly enough for now too, not full weight, wanting to let Tameka feel what she was doing rather than winning by a quick smother.
She grabbed the gold G-string that the black woman wore, taking a cruel delight in wrenching it into a wedgie before smiling some more as she came to realise the gold coloured garment to be much more sturdy that she had perhaps expected. Predictably, that made Tameka cry out and curse Sara again, the strawberry blonde didn’t care though, content that she now had the fight, and Tameka right where she wanted them.
She released her grip of Tameka’s G-string now, seeing the black woman relax a little, perhaps steeling herself to try and strike back if she could. Sara let that play out for a moment, just feeling the powerful lawyer starting to coil er body to buck and bridge. Then she stomach punched her, hoping it was as hard as how Tameka had hit her earlier, and as that released some of the air from Tameka’s lungs, she delivered a salvo of tit punches, each aimed at the right breast. She was softening Tameka up to exact her revenge for getting milked twice by her today, and as the pain from the punches still resonated, she began to copy Tameka’s technique, mauling around the nipple with one hand while massaging the breast firmly with the other hand. “Awwww...fuck no!” she heard the muffled voice of Tameka beneath her ass as the lawyer realised Sara’s game now.
“Shut it bitch!” Sara shot back, spreading her own legs a little wider to sit heavier on Tameka’s face, adding to the smothering power of her face sit as her hands worked away on the black woman. She knew that just as had been the case with her, Tameka wouldn’t be far away thanks to the earlier tit fight as her fingers kneaded and worked the sensitive flesh. Tameka’s body shuddered a little, the way her breasts were getting worked clearly starting to get to her now, even as Sara’s smothering heavy face sit took it’s toll on her, slowly but surely. “You might want to think about submitting about now bitch!” Sara suggested to defiant sounds from the black woman trapped in her face sit. Tameka was a proud tough fighter, but Sara knew she had her to rights here, even as she started to scratch at the legs that pinned her arms effectively still. Sara simply ignored it, rebuked her with another heavy tit punch, and then continued to work her breast firmly towards her final aim that came soon enough with Tameka’s milk soaking her fingers and the breast of the black fighter. Now she sat heavier still, knowing that Tameka felt the humiliation of having been forcibly milked, and she was determined that the smother should get the job done. Sara stopped her miling now, instead sinking the nails of both hands in around the nipple, pressing into the nipple itself with the thumbnail of her right hand. Tameka screamed in pain, silently almost into the void of the smother created by Sara’s butt now.
“Now you know the only good reason to milk a slut in a fight, bitch” Sara remarked. “So you can hurt her!” she finished, twisting and digging those nails in even further to make |Tameka howl. Only when that pain had washed through Tameka’s body did Sara realise that she could feel tears of frustration from the black woman just before she submitted to her, frantically tapping at the bright blue mats of the conference room in abject surrender.
Sra took a few extra seconds to enjoy the winners thrown on the face of the loser now, before she got off Tameka, telling her “don’t cry bitch….you’re not that bad. You’re just not at my level. Now or ever. You can keep trying though, it’s fun beating you up!”
“I fucking had you!” Tameka told Sara. “It was that close”
“Was it fuck” Sara laughed. “You never had me in trouble” she declared. She wouldn’t have admitted it if she had been anyway. Tameka was lying on the mats still, hands on her head, milk on her right breast running slowly across her chest. She heard, rather than saw, Sara pick up the phone in the room now, dialling 7 as she did do. “Is this Lara?” she asked as the call was evidently answered. “Good, this is Sara, we met earlier” she said now, as only half of the conversation was audible to Tameka in the room. “Yes, that’s right. Well Miss Tameka would like you to pop up to take a record of our meeting. Bring your phone honey’ Sara told her. She waited a moment, Lara evidently just confirming that she was on her way, then set the phone down, before she moved back towards Tameka who was moving to get back up.
“Where do you think you’re going?” Sara asked Tameka, pushing a bare foot between her breasts to push her to her back on the bright blue mats before she retook her position in a reverse face sit, more lightly this time than before.
“Get off me you bitch!” Tameka protested a little weakly.
“Shut up and take your medicine slut” Sara laughed, just grinding herself lightly on Tameka’s face to the sound of approaching footsteps on the floor outside. A knock on the door then, followed by the slightly urgent low voice of the young paralegal “it’s me….Lara!”
“Well come in honey, the door’s open” Sara called out, feeling Tameka shift uneasily beneath her as Lara entered the room and her jaw dropped at the sight that confronted her of two almost naked women on the mats. More surprising to her, was that Miss Tameka was the one very clearly on the worst end of things. Was that milk on her breast? Lara wondered to herself as she quickly composed herself and closed the door behind her. She was a young professional after all.
“Now Lara, I thought it would be nice for Miss Tameka to have a nice little record of what happened when she met a professional fighter again” Sara smiled encouragingly. “But first of all you have to agree that this falls under the lawyer / client privilege laws… so nobody else gets to know about it, OK?” she asked the young brunette.
Lara nodded diligently as she agreed “I understand, nobody else needs to know about this”.
“Get off of me bitch!” Tameka moaned from beneath Sara who just told her to “shut it” sitting that little heavier to make Tameka tap at her thighs to ease off. “Now behave...this won’t take long. Lara honey, could you take a couple of pictures of us?” Sara asked the paralegal, who qucikly complied to take some snapshots while Sara posed sat on the face of her beaten rival.
“You delete those right now Lara!” Tameka demanded. Sara slapped her breasts in rebuke with a force tat made the young brunette wince.
“They’re safe with Lara. She’s very trustworthy, I can tell” Sara told Tameka. “But no deleting them until you’ve beaten me. Which will obviously be never!” she told the black woman with confidence.
Then Sara got off her, and walked over to the corner of the room where she’d left her clothes and started to dress calmly and slowly, pleased that she’d chosen black stockings to cover the scratch marks on her legs. She dressed, wincing a little as the fabric of her blouse touched her heavily mauled right breast as she reached to tidy her hair into a tight ponytail now. Then she asked Lara “Would you be so kind as to show me out honey? I think that Miss Tameka might just need a little while to gather herself yet!”
“I’ll fucking get you next time you bitch!” Tameka told Sara.
“Sure. I’m counting on it” Sara told her, calling back over her shoulder as she followed Lara out of the room, “you just tell me when you’re feeling brave enough again; I’ll always be ready for you!”