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  #81  
Old 22-Feb-20, 12:43
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mixfightor mixfightor is offline
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Default Re: September 2018 — Stacyann, The Rematch

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Originally Posted by HermanDG [Only Registered Users Can See LinksClick Here To Register]
Why does no one ever root for the good guy around here?
Dude, with two super fine babes like Stacyann and Naomi in the picture, you are damned lucky anyone even notices you are there. Sorry to be so cold there, but it's true. By the way, could you move your head a little? You're blocking my view of Stacyann's inner thighs...
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  #82  
Old 22-Feb-20, 17:27
HermanDG HermanDG is offline
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Default Re: September 2018 — Stacyann, The Rematch

I wonder why...
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  #83  
Old 24-Feb-20, 06:53
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Default Re: September 2018 — Stacyann, The Rematch

As y’all can clearly see there isn’t much that Herman does that’s fair. He’s always plotting and conniving and angling for an advantage. This was so unfair! It was a setup from the first invite and I was ganged up on!
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  #84  
Old 24-Feb-20, 06:55
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Default Re: September 2018 — Stacyann, The Rematch

I would never cheat for advantage like that, Stacyann. You can spend as much time on top of me as you want!
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  #85  
Old 24-Feb-20, 17:05
HermanDG HermanDG is offline
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Default Re: September 2018 — Stacyann, The Rematch

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Originally Posted by Stacyann [Only Registered Users Can See LinksClick Here To Register]
As y’all can clearly see there isn’t much that Herman does that’s fair. He’s always plotting and conniving and angling for an advantage. This was so unfair! It was a setup from the first invite and I was ganged up on!
Oy vey...
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  #86  
Old 25-Apr-21, 13:32
HermanDG HermanDG is offline
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Default Re: September 2018 — Stacyann, The Rematch

Chapter 07 - One Hit (To The Body)



Stacyann’s beautiful face was an absolute mask of rage. Still burning with the embers of the embarrassment and humiliation that she must have felt at her most helpless, her eyes seared with emotion as she pulled my gaze to meet her’s via two rich handfuls of hair on opposite sides of my head. I could palpably feel her anger through the feedback of her grip, she was shaking with fury and feeling murderous with malice.

While I had often found myself in the vice grip clutches of her thighs, here she had ramped up her aggression to another insane level that I had never before experienced as she pulverized my skull with her legs. Stacyann bared her teeth like a wild thing well beyond reason. Having been so perilously close to the abyss mere moments prior, every fibre of her being was now demanding a bitter vengeance. The entirety of her physical being was incorporated into the carnage that she sought to impose on me and the totality of her effort created an imposing visual of her physique that was as tantalizing as it was terrifying, as Stacyann’s exertions caused her normally underlying vascularity to boil to the surface of her skin and her musculature popped into deep separations.

In our battles there had always been dialogue and diatribe, quips and comebacks, points and counter points. Now there was only this physical language of savagely raw emotion, punctuated the steaming hot tears that ran like prisoners on a jailbreak from Stacyann’s eyes.

Yup, Stacyann was miffed.

“You”, she hissed, while redoubling her efforts, “This time you’ve gone too far, you BASTARD. I...I am going to END you.”

Stacyann began pulsing her front head scissors sending lightning bolts of pain through my jaws and temple, but the action also applied all kinds of torque on my neck as well. Stacyann held me helpless, lying prone on my stomach with my skull trapped deep up into her quads and her lower legs draped over my back as she anchored her efforts by digging her heels into the middle of my spine. With my hands, I could only paw at her legs with a desperate simplicity as the insurmountable agony that my she was authoring prevented me from formulating any more of an intelligently conceived plan, let alone wonder where my former partner in Stacyann’s previous subjugation had gotten to in the fray. My entire focus was on making every effort to simply survive Stacyann’s attempt at vengeance.

Without warning, Stacyann shifted her scissors and in a single motion forcefully rotated her hips around, forcing me onto my back as she crossed her legs into a figure four leglock hold that brutally drove drove her pubic bone high up under my jawline while crushing my trachea and Adam’s Apple with choking conviction under her full weight. She definitely wasn’t fooling around in any way, shape or form. Her intensity was as murderous as I had ever seen as her eyes continued to burn with red hot hatred.

If I had been wondering what had become of Naomi, the answer presented itself once I found myself on my back. In what seemed to stem from an outlying distance far away from my current focus where I was battling for survival under Stacyann, I felt my legs being lifted up from a grip underneath my ankles where my Achilles Tendons met my heels. To follow, whatever air I had in my lungs was driven out of my body as a foot smashed down into my abdomen. If the scales could have been tipped any more unfavourably against me than this, I could not discern, because I was in a world of convulsive, agonizing hurt. One of these ladies could be a load to deal with. Both of them at once in unison was surely an impossibility.

As Stacyann continued to make every effort to crush my throat in her legs like a used up soda can, I felt my legs being twisted into the shape of a Figure Four Leglock. As Naomi pulled me further into that hold and then drove it home, torquing down on right knee and ankle by grounding into her feet and leveraging every ounce of force from her lower body while simultaneously pushing up with her hands against my left heel and thereby viciously hyperextending my left knee against my trapped right shin. My legs exploded with agony. If it didn’t feel as though the entire world was against me before, it surely did now.

I was sure that I heard the tones of Naomi’s voice even if I couldn’t grasp her narrative while trapped in the brilliant aura of incisive affliction that enveloped me. As always, my caramel lover was a trash talker, laying a beat down with her tongue as much as her body. But with Stacyann’s thighs having engulfed by entire skull, my ears weren’t exactly in a position to make out whatever it was that Naomi had said. With only my arms free I was at a loss in any attempt to ease let alone rectify my situation, so my right hand reached down towards Naomi’s right shin, hopeless to resolve the issues that she was causing my lower half, while my left palm found itself ineffectively pushing up under Stacyann’s chin without any sustainable energy.

Having always been a leg man, you might think that there was some fragment of pleasure being caught between of two sets of the best legs that I had ever personally seen, but the reality was that inside of this conundrum of existential struggle, I could only focus on my my basic hope to just survive this assault by those two Amazonian warriors.

In their conjoined clutches, time lost all meaning. There was only pain, more pain and intense pain. I had no sense of how long they held me there, like that. The ordeal was an absolute marathon of moments and I had long hit the wall before it ever ended, having surely blacked out under their mutual duress. All I knew was that at some point, I was back on my feet being roughly backed into a corner of our home wrestling ring, with my arms wound around the top rope on either side and each associated wrist held in the clutches of one of my beautiful adversaries.

“As our guest, why don’t you go first?”, I heard Naomi offer graciously as I struggled to find light in the dense fog that surrounded me. Next came the blast of what I can only assume was Stacyann’s foot and shin into my stomach on the right side of me, making me absolutely rubber legged and procuring a loud, involuntary moan from the pit of my being. I didn’t have any time to lament my predicament, however, as a hard knee to the groin from Naomi drove me back up to limply standing while feeling suitably vomitrocious. From there, they continued to deliver strikes of all sorts at their leisure, to every part of my body that they fancied, a helpless prisoner of their diabolical whims, while they tried their best to one up each other in their aggressions against me.

Sometimes, after delivering a particularly salient blow, one or the other would take the time to linger, pressing up against my body with their own to see if they could physically feel the repercussions of whatever brute force they had applied to me, like they were reading a Braille transcript of my agonizations. Naomi, especially, seemed to enjoy that approach having always being so fascinated by bodies in general. Even so, Stacyann stole some of her own moments in that way, usually taking the time to steady my bobbing head by grabbing a handful of hair as I lolled in an almost drunken semi-consciousness, while trying to see if she could see something on the other side of the windows to my soul. Infrequently, my inability to respond in a manner that satisfied one or the other would result in any number of additional strikes; from punches to slaps, one handed chokes and hair pulls, knees, elbows, hateful groin grabs and even the odd foot stomp. Truly, they were pretty much tenderizing me like I was little more than a piece of meat as I hung there almost lifeless in that corner that was akin to my very own tree of woe. The pounding seemed endless.

At some point, after they tired of just brutally beating me in the corner, I was suddenly torn away and found myself hurtling towards the corner on — I assume — the other side of the ring. Turning to try and absorb the impact with my upper back, I was subsequently met by a massive body splash applied by Naomi, who licked the side of my face like an animal and then propped me back up to standing by pushing me back into the corner so that I wasn’t slouching. From there, the caramel skinned blonde cleared a path so that Stacyann could follow with a twinned attack, one that she punctuated with several shoulder smashes into my stomach while using the ring ropes for added leverage. Stunned, I could make out the sound of the two women high-fiving each other to follow and their celebratory laughter. They were having themselves the time of their lives at my expense.

Deciding that they wanted a bit more diversity in my torture, Naomi and her new bestie, Stacyann, both again grabbed an arm, but rather than continuing to now pummel me in this newfound corner, they dragged me down to the middle of the ring ropes where they pushed me back so that I was painfully arched over the top rope before they mutually unleashed another full volley of body strikes, slaps, punches, chops, kicks and moments of verbal abuse where they questioned every aspect of my masculinity, intelligence, character and potency. If I had been any more with it, the experience could have — under other circumstances — almost been desirable as somewhat kinky, but in this state it was just an embarrassment of cherries on top of an indigestible sundae of malice.

Without any reference for the passing of time I once again found myself being tossed across the ring. Impacting with the ropes on the other side, I was shaken into enough of a conscious state that I could see as I rebounded, I recognized the form of Naomi in front of me and bracing for contact. As I drew near, Naomi ducked down and encircled my waist with her arms in a bear hug, after which she drove down through her feet and lifted me up while also turning our bodies in sequence. As my head whipped around to track my bearings, I was solidly met with both of Stacyann’s feet driving into my chest from somewhere in the heavens, following her having launched herself off of one of the turnbuckles at the top of the ring while executing a text book dropkick. Further multiplying off that mule kick, Naomi leveraged her hold on my waist into a type of face first suplex, slamming me to the mat a manner that left me, if not fully unconscious, then well on the way.

On impact, other than rolling onto my back I didn’t move around or wince with suffering, there literally was not even an iota of energy left for that. I lay flattened on the mat, unable to even raise a finger in opposition, completely devastated. So as Stacyann sat herself down across my chest, again pushing her pelvis up under my chin and pinning my arms over my head with her farm strong grip on each wrist and my upper arms trapped under her knees for a text book schoolgirl pin, it was completely unnecessary for Naomi to join her, straddling my torso while hooking my legs under her armpits for a humiliating reverse matchbook pin. As Stacyann repeatedly lifted and slammed my right wrist into the mat as she forcibly made me count myself out to ten, Naomi echoed the sentiment smacking my bare buttocks like they were a bongo while she her rich laughter mocked my fully compromised state. I was done and done dirty.

Even after they’d cemented their mutual victory, they lingered, trying to assure that my decimation was not lost on me. Eventually, they adjusted their positioning, with Stacyann turning her schoolgirl pin into a reverse face sit that plunged my nostrils into the crack of her sumptuously bare ass while drowning my mouth in her sweaty pussy. Naomi seemingly turned her straddle of my torso into Stacyann, releasing my left leg to be held by Stacyann while Naomi carried on with immobilizing my right as the women shared the duties involved in keeping me fully matchbooked.

At some point, from how their hips both began to gyrate and how their hands began to alternately move to stimulate my nipples, scrotum and anus, I had the sense that it was very likely that Naomi and Stacyann were having a vigorous make out session with each other while on top of the husk of my prostrate form, with Stacyann quite obviously rubbing one out on my captive face. While I wasn’t in any state to prevent her carnal activity, I sure wasn’t in any position to really enjoy it either. I could only bear witness until she brought herself to a gushing climax as she clawed at my leg that she personally held hostage. As Stacyann physically shuddered in the aftermath of her exertions, I could feel how in concert, Naomi hungrily amped up her attentions on the now twitterpated brunette, in keeping with how she always sought to maximize any happy ending to almost unbearable limits as a means of showcasing her sense of control.

I could only imagine what the sight of those two going at it full bore would have been. From my vantage point, I could see Naomi’s right hand full of Stacyann’s brown locks, pulling her head backwards in a apex display of the blonde’s dominance. Even as I languished in a prone state beneath them, captive in a humid swamp of sweat and cum, their fit bodies felt heavenly. Following Stacyann’s release, their activity ramped up a bit more frantically and while I didn’t hear all of what was said, I did catch a tail end of “...and now you’re going to be MY BITCH”, authored by Naomi that she punctuated with a ruthless tug of Stacyann’s hair. Stacyann’s response was to forcibly pull away from our scene, finally releasing my left leg to crash to the mat. Naomi, in tandem, released my right leg and rose to stand over top of me, a lioness towering over my limp carcass and ready for any new challenge.

“So are we going to do this, bitch?”, Naomi challenged

“You bet your ass we are”, Stacyann snapped back, continuing, “but let’s tie up the garbage before we get on with our real business.”

Somehow I honestly didn’t see that as a bad thing.


To be continued...

Last edited by HermanDG; 25-Apr-21 at 20:30.
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back-and-forth, fem vs fem, mixed battles, naked wrestling, sex fighting, spanking, stacyann, two girls, two on one

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