Another Match

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Okay, so to set up a prelude to this next match. This was one of those themed fights, they generally come up around major holidays. Thanksgiving there’s normally a gravy fight, Christmas, Santa’s little helpers, the like. You know. This one happened to be a Fourth of July celebrated one, which is rather rare. The theme was red, white and bikinis. It was set up to be just a bikini contest, strut your stuff, look good and maybe a little bit of rivalry between myself and this other lady. I’d known about her for some time, she’d made quite a name for herself in the little underground circuit we had going on.

I’d chosen this cute little two piece. Bright red and white top, it tied in the back and fit my size chest perfectly. I matched it with a pair of dark blue bottoms. They were a little snug around my hips and ass, riding up just a smidge, but that was the point of the whole thing wasn’t it? To flaunt a little, so I didn’t mind as much.

The match was set to take place in the usual arena, only since the first few matches (and my continual loses) the crowd seemed to have grown, not by much, but it was enough to get a slightly bigger basement. People could now fit more comfortably along the sides of the ring and watch.

Coming into the ring, the entire venue had been decorated with ribbons and flags. Even the apron of the ring was patriotic in color and design. A table with pitchers filled with water, lemonade and tea was sat along the wall, close to the ring. It looked like an old time barbeque, kinda homey.

I crawled into the ring, wearing a robe to at least keep myself decent before the competition began. My opponent came in a little later. She was a little taller than me, blonde hair and a much bigger chest and she instantly sized me up upon entering the ring.

I remember I smiled and said it was nice to share the ring with her, that I’d heard so much about it. Her response put a sour taste in my mouth. She scoffed at me and said something to the effect of, look at this slut or bitch. Regardless, it wasn’t very nice. Before I could respond though, the crowd started filing in.

I did a few stretches, just to loosen up my back. My opponent just laughed again, whispering something someone that accompanied her to the ring. The both looked to me and snickered. It gave me an uneasy feeling. Normally I don’t move trash talk, but something about it. I shrugged the feeling off and got ready.

The bell rang and the crowd gave a cheer of excitement and encouragement. I would be the first to derobe and present myself for judging. Seemed fair, I was the new one afterall. I strode to the middle of the ring, keeping a shy seductive smile as I began to push the robe from my shoulders exposing them.

The bahis firmaları cloth dropped down a little, showing off my collar bone. The cheers grew a little more expectant and eagerness. I pushed down the robe, pressing my breasts together with my arms and letting the cover rest around my waist. More catcalls and a few whistles, I was feeling pretty good about myself, so I added a wink and kiss before turning my back to them and bending over.

I arched my back, pushing my butt out and ever so slowly pulled the robe down to show off my ass. It worked just as perfectly as I thought, well, almost.

As the robe hit the mat, I felt a hand curl into the hair on the top of my head. It clenched closed with a powerful grip, forcing me onto my toes. My back arched a little more and pushed my backside out even further. I reached up trying to find the source of who had grabbed me only to be greeted with a knee to the stomach.

I coughed out, reaching for my midsection instead, grabbing to protect it. My back was still towards the crowd and they were cheering. I’m pretty sure I heard the words, slut, skank and whore come from my attacker just as I was pulled upright. An open hand slap greeted my face and I tried to stagger back, but a tug on my hair keep me well within striking distance. Which, more followed.

Front and backhanded slaps assaulted my chest. Seeing as the bikini top wasn’t the best support either, each smack sent my breasts bouncing. I lost count after five, but that didn’t stop the throbbing pain and redness I felt. Lucky though, the woman gave up on the slapping as she pushed me back into the corner. Perhaps lucky was the wrong word.

A fist connect with my stomach and I doubled over, only to be upright once more by hair. Another punch drove the wind from me and I slumped. Only to once again be pulled up by my hair. The entire front part of my torso screamed with pain and I took in staggered breaths. My attacker, the woman I was supposed to be having a bikini content with make a tsk sound. I didn’t like the sound of that.

She reached up, grabbing my long near red stands with both hands now and spun me, throwing me across the arena by only my hair. I hit the mat on my stomach, bounced once and lay there clawing at where she’d pulled free a handful. It wasn’t a lot, nor would it be noticable, I had a lot of hair, but my Lord did it hurt. I rolled around there for a minute, trying to recover some strength, but in typical fashion my attacker was back on me.

I felt a boot in my rib, pushing to roll me over. I didn’t have a choice, so I complied. I blinked as the above lights blinded me, but I could make it the silhouette of my assailant, holding something. I wasn’t sure at the time what are kaçak iddaa said, but I later realized she said I looked thirsty and called me a slut.

Ice cold water was poured from one of the pitchers I’d seen earlier. She concentrated the stream on my face and chest, soaking both thoroughly before rolling me onto my stomach and dumping what was left on my shoulders and hair. It was freezing and I instantly felt my nipples harden, pushing against the canvas and bikini. I tried to curl up to protect myself, expecting more kicks to the ribs, but they never came.

Instead, I heard her say something about me being all wet and needing to get me out of those clothes. That’s when I felt the double knot on my top be pulled loose. A foot slipped under my side and levered me to roll onto my back. The strings that kept my top in place slipping away from my arms. I did my best to cover up my exposed breasts and somehow increasingly hard nipples. Was I getting off to this? The crowd jeered, whistled and made catcalls.

The woman’s hand found my hair again, the wet red an easy target as she tugged me back to my feet. Pathetic she said and slapped me again, only there was no follow through. She grabbed me by the mouth, pinching either side of my cheeks and forcing my lips apart. That’s when I noticed my top, crumpled in her hand as she stuffed it into my mouth. The wet fabric easily found a perfect fit in my mouth, working exactly like a gag should.

So here I stood in the middle of the ring, doing my best to cover my breasts from a leering crowd, my top crammed into my mouth. I could have died from the embarrassment and humiliation, but it wasn’t over.

Out of the corner of my eyes, I saw the person that came to the ring with my competitor carrying the other pitcher of water. My eye went wide and I tried to struggle, but moving by arms would mean showing my boobs to the world. I didn’t have a choice.

The assistant came over showing the crowd and me the water, then grabbed at my bottoms. Water flooded into my bikini bottom. It sloshed against my freshly waxed lips, I had been prepping for a bikini match. It drenched the fabric, shaping the material to a rough looking camel toe and outline of my crotch. Then they flipped me around, pushing a hand into my waist to force my ass out a little and continued pouring water. It coated my backside, making the skin smooth and slippery. The now damp material was free to slide into any crevice it pleased. (I want to say all the wetness was from the water, but who are we kidding?)

I whimpered, trying to ask for mercy, but my words came out muffled. I could even feel a small tendril of drool and water escape the corners of my mouth. The crowd roared, as the women let me go. As kaçak bahis if displaying me as a trophy. I misread their intentions.

A kick came to the back of both my knees and my hands on instinct shot away to catch my fall. My breasts bounced free, giving everyone a perfect view of me on all fours gagged, topless and soaking wet. Then I felt weight on my lower back and realized my opposition had just sat on me.

She grabbed my hair tightly, tugging on them like they were reins. She slapped me on the ass, leaving a bright red hand print. My skin rippled and some of the bikini snuck between my checks. I half whimpered and moaned, but her command was obvious, so I begrudgingly moved me hands and knees forward. She waved to the crowd, like a princess or some rodeo queen and I was her horse. I choked a little on the gag, this was a new low (so why was I enjoying it so much?).

She paraded my around for a full lap, before stopping with a heavy tug on my hair. My backside was facing the crowd, the bottom had slide completely up my ass now, not even a trace of the blue fabric could be seen. I pinched my knees together to limit my exposure. She shifted to face them. She said, present and I wasn’t quite sure what she meant until my head was pushing against the canvas.

My back arched, forcing my ass up and pushing my waist back. I felt a finger loop around the cloth at my lower back and it was slowly tugged up. The water soaked bottoms (mixed with my own) glided along my soaked regions, forcing a muffled moan from me. She pulled them up, so tight that formed a perfect outline of my slit. They dripped water, droplets of it running down my thighs, my entire bottom half on compete display for the entire crowd.

There were no cheers or yells. Just silence as they watched me get humiliated and handled, rode around like a horse, and they loved it.

I was red in the face from being on display. Bring presented for their amusement. My chest and belly were sore. My nipples were still hard and tender, and above it all, I was aroused by this. There was a final piece left to do though and the woman on my back raised her hand.

“Now. Get. Out. Of. My. Ring.”

Each word was emphasized by a hard smack to my ass. Each left a throbbing red handprint in its wake, making the best hurt even worse. With the last word, she got off my back

Standing nearby, and then said the true last word. “Slut.” Then kicked me directly in the ass.

It hurt so bad. My assc was bruised for a week. The crowd roared with laughter and I scampered towards the edge of the ring. Thankfully the no touch policy was still in place, so I was able to get out of the ring and get backstage with no hassles.

So that’s that story. It was one of the more humiliating ones honestly… I could say that about almost any of them though. I’ll try and post one or two stories a week, if people want them and maybe change it instead of back to back to more spread out.

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Telefon Numaram: 00353 515 73 20

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