Mixed Battles
Mixed fighting freestyle, 360 pictures 1920x1080 (Full HD), completely CFNM, no blood.
“Now then, do you have any mixed fighting experience?” Siren asked her latest applicant to join her fight club. The applicant, Serena, surprised her by laughing.
“I’m sorry, forgive me,” Serena began. “It’s just that in my last fight I knocked my opponent out with one punch!”
Siren raised an eyebrow. “That’s impressive, I must say, though you understand it wouldn’t sell many videos. A fight needs to last 20 minutes to half an hour for a video of it to sell. My customers want their money’s worth! But who was this unfortunate man?”
“My ex, Phillip, who was drunk. We had an argument, squared up, and I got him solidly on the jaw. He slept peacefully on the spot where he fell for about 8 hours, and the next morning I threw him out of the house (literally). Now he says he wants revenge, and I’d love to have a proper, longer fight with him. You can’t imagine the thrill it gave me to knock him out!”
“I can,” Siren contradicted her, smiling. “You’re not alone, Serena, and all the ladies here get that same thrill from beating, dominating and humiliating a man. (That, and earning the 75% winner’s cut of the takings, of course.) But the situation’s a good one. Man seeks revenge after ex-girlfriend knocked him out with a single punch. Woman’s only too happy to take the loser on again. Oh yes, that’ll sell,” she concluded, licking her lips at the prospect of all that lovely money flowing in. “Does he know it’s CFNM?” she asked.
“Not yet,” Serena smiled. “Let’s surprise him!”
So the fight was advertised lavishly. Serena was described as “tall, blonde, and willowy, with a knockout punch”. There was a picture of her in a daring black-and-gauze leotard, making a striking contrast with her long blonde hair. Smart black-and-white boxing gloves and trim black boots completed the picture, and the reader was assured this was how she would appear for the fight. Phillip was called “the victim of Serena’s knockout punch, looking for revenge”. There was a picture of him looking as if he had a hangover – unshaven, tired and in need of a wash.
Which was pretty much how he looked in the ring, warming up opposite Serena. He looked sulky too, no doubt getting over the shock of having to be naked. Siren, already filming, wanted to laugh at the contrast between them. Serena worked her way through her routine with nimble movements and a sparkling smile; Phillip looked grim, although determined. He made no comment when Serena confidently told him she would beat him up just like that last time they fought. They went to their corners, then met in the middle for the fight to begin.
They locked up, and soon Serena had Phillip by the neck. She looked to be trying to force him down, while he stubbornly remained on his feet, head bowed from her hold on his neck. “The viewers will love this!” thought Siren, as she got a close-up of Serena’s splendid round bottom while she leant downwards, trying to force Phillip to the mat.
“This is what you’re missing, Phil,” she murmured, holding his head against her sex briefly. “You know you miss it!”
However, she didn’t manage to overpower him this way, so she changed tactic. She released his neck and sprang, trapping his left arm between her thighs. She hooked her arms around his other arm and worked her way around his back until she sat on his shoulders. Then she swung. Her forward momentum was too much for Phillip, who collapsed to his knees, before inevitably succumbing and landing on his side.
That was when Serena coiled her long legs around his waist from behind, while still holding his neck. Siren nodded approval to herself, as Serena’s body scissor began to bite. Siren nodded again, as she heard the first groan of pain from Phillip. She envied Serena, exerting steadily increasing pressure with a woman’s dependable, strong thighs, wrapped around her hapless male victim. For good measure, she teased Phillip’s naked cock with her left leg.
Maintaining the scissor, Serena now sat crossways on so she could see the strain on Phillip’s face – she didn’t want to miss that. Smiling playfully at him, she increased the vice of her fearsome thighs, while holding onto his nearside wrist, in case he got any ideas.
“Submit!” she demanded, when she judged she had squeezed enough. Silence. “Submit now!” she insisted, after a little more pressure. It was that last bit of force that worked, and Phillip gave up his resistance, reluctantly agreeing to submit. Serena stood up and posed over him, one foot on his throat.
Serena loved posing, Phillip thought grimly, looking up at her delightful curves. There she was, like some overpaid, third-rate actress, artfully making sure Siren caught her tits and arse at every angle. Oh, and of course don’t forget the long blonde hair, cascading halfway down her back and (again artfully) over her tits. Now what was she doing? Oh of course, she was going over to the camera to flaunt herself in front of that. If anyone deserved a beating, she did. Perhaps he’d strike lucky in the next round …
Serena came back to the centre of the ring, still with that smile that was beginning to infuriate Phillip. But, smiling or not, she attacked without warning. It was similar to the previous round, wearing him down inexorably to the mat, but this time yanking his right arm into a chicken wing.
Phillip was on his knees – perfect for a standing head scissor. It would be rude of a lady not to accept, thought Serena, sandwiching his head in between her fearsome thighs.
“Crawl for me,” she murmured, having forced him onto his hands as well as knees. She amused herself by backing a couple of paces so that he did indeed have to crawl to keep up with her.
“You like a bit of femdom, don’t you?” she taunted. Phillip judged it best not to answer, because there was no knowing what this depraved woman would do next – make him bark, perhaps?
Serena linked her hands under his stomach and squeezed. She had him in a head-and-body scissor this way, chuckling at her inspired improvisation. But she allowed him to collapse to the mat. In an instant she had him on his back, and put him in a reverse head scissor, lying above him in the old reliable “69 position”. Phillip desperately tried to free himself, but it was useless.
There was no subtle building up of the pressure this time; she went straight for a submission, demanding it of him once more. Once again he hesitated, so she squeezed his cock and repeated her demand. This combination of head scissor and “cock scissor” was too much for Phillip, and he seized this second chance of ending the torment. But she didn’t end it. She retained her twin grips, and Phillip felt she was straying into sadism. He suspected, correctly, that Siren would never intervene like a proper referee, because she seemed to be enjoying it too much.
But at last Serena relented, then it was posing time again. At least, Phillip reasoned to himself, it gave him time to recover, both from her legitimate assault on him and her rather more unorthodox methods. So let her stand with her foot on his face, pointing her tits and arse at the camera, as before. Phillip sighed with relief, too, when she went over to pose in front of Siren’s camera again. No horrible foot on his face, and his strength beginning to flow back into his aching muscles, it was great!
But she came back, demanding more action. They locked up, and once again Phillip felt himself being worn down. That smiling devil woman was working him down again. All the training she did, night after night when they were a couple, had given her immense strength, he had to admit to himself.
Phillip resisted stubbornly, almost heroically, but Serena had him with his head bowed, just as before. She put him in a headlock. Her left arm was around his neck, and she brought him down onto his stomach this way. Phillip choked, gasping for breath, but his brain just about picked up Serena’s command for him to submit. What, already? She’d only just put him on his stomach. On the other hand, she was inflicting real damage to his neck and throat. As before, Phillip held out; but as before he did submit at her second demand (not that it had made all that much difference the previous time).
On this occasion, Serena sprang up instantly and began the posing routine again. “Couldn’t we just have the posing, without the fighting?” Phillip thought, with his neck still throbbing, and every breath painful. Embarrassingly, he was aware that he had an erection, too. It must be the “defeat boner” that all men who faced women in the ring dreaded. Needless to say, Serena and Siren found it funny.
“I’d better get up, I suppose,” Phillip thought. But he couldn’t. Just pushing with his foot on the mat hurt his neck too much. For the first time, he understood that if your neck is injured, it affects every movement of the body.
Serena understood, so she sat on his face in a straddle pin and secured his wrists above his head. She ordered him to submit, adding “bitch” for good measure. Following his usual hesitation, she demanded he say it out loud. Sick of being denied oxygen, Phillip gave up and did as she wanted, submitting the match to her. But that wasn’t the end of the torment.
“Spread your legs,” ordered Serena. Riding over his erection, she demanded he “admit I’m fucking you and you’re the bitch!” To think this humiliation was all being filmed! On the other hand, it was quite stimulating, and Phillip partially enjoyed confirming what she was doing. If she carried on for much longer …
But she didn’t. Instead she stood over him, and told him he had thirty minutes to get ready to box. This reminded him sharply of his previous abject defeat, when she had knocked him out with a single punch to the jaw. He must redeem himself this time!
Serena was over-confident, Phillip thought, when she was warming up to box. She behaved as if the exercises were something to win as well, seeming to celebrate some sort of victory at the end of them for Siren’s camera. There she was now, grinning away, gloves at the ready and facing Phillip. Very well, it was a different contest now, and he could restore his pride (as much as was possible, being naked and still sporting an embarrassing erection).
Serena fired a left jab, surprising him. There had been no circling, no weighing up of the opponent or psychological play, just straight in with the first punch, clipping his jaw sharply. Recovering, Phillip prepared a huge body blow; she saw it coming and sliced her own into his kidney instead. That really did hurt. The previous one to the jaw seemed to be part of the warm-up exercises in comparison.
Noting its success, Serena struck his other kidney with her left. Waves of scorching pain throbbed through Phillip’s body, distracting him from any thoughts of counterattack. For her part, Serena was in her element, long blonde hair flowing and waving slightly as she banged her fist home.
A third body blow, this time with her right glove, belted Phillip in the chest. She was wearing him down with these attacks to his body. This was her putting the hard work in early; the results should come later. Sure enough, the smiling lady in the sexy leotard now punched her hapless male victim in the stomach. He groaned, and folded around her glove.
“Time to put him on his back,” thought Serena, as she planted a superb right cross on his chin. This was the dramatic, even glamorous blow after the patient work of the body shots, and she knocked Phillip down like a skittle. It was hard to resist punching his chin again while he was down, so she didn’t, laughing as his head spun away from her outstretched glove.
But Phillip was “saved by the bell”, and Serena made do with a celebration before returning to her corner. She amused herself by posing for the camera while Phillip recovered enough to get up and go into his corner. When the bell went for the fight to resume, Serena behaved as if it was her birthday, eager to start all over again. Phillip was telling himself to concentrate as he walked to meet her. “Don’t let her surprise you anymore,” he told himself, and she promptly did just that with a punch on the nose.
She banged her right glove into his jaw, and as his head swerved to the side, he caught sight of Siren chuckling away to herself. She was loving it, curse her! He defensively tried a clinch, but the strong girl used it to work him to the ropes. Phillip lashed out with his right, but she batted it away contemptuously and punched him in his still painful right kidney.
Serena got him low in the stomach with her right. Once again, Phillip moaned in pain and crumpled round her glove, bracing himself for another barrage of body blows. Instead she stunned him with a glorious right uppercut.
“The fans will adore that!” thought Siren, watching Phillip’s face go all “swimmy” after the woman’s right fist had smacked up and under his chin. The punch seemed to send him into orbit, and he stood swaying and dazed for some moments. Serena moved back to the centre of the ring, and beckoned to him to join her, murmuring “Come to Mummy!”
Phillip staggered to her like a drunk, and she helped him on his way with a left glove thudding into his ear, compounding his disorientation. She was working towards the climax now, as she put all her weight behind a rising right cross. It set him up perfectly, and she sent him home with an exuberant left hook. “Oh, lovely!” thought Siren as Serena’s swinging fist spun her male opponent off his feet and he sank to the mat, oblivious to everything.
Serena stood over the downed, sleeping man, and counted him out. Keeping the commentary to a minimum, she just contented herself with “9 and 10, the pussy is knocked out” before the well-earned posing, firstly over Phillip, and then directly in front of the camera.
When Phillip came to, he was confused to see Siren fitting some contraption around Serena’s middle. His confusion became alarm when he realised it was a strap on, which in turn led to horror when Serena approached him. “Suck it!” she demanded. He complied, but she still wasn’t content, insisting that he look at her while he did it. He was surprised to see a look of ecstasy on her face, such as a man gets when a woman does that for him.
But his ordeal didn’t end there. Serena ordered him to get on all fours, and he thought, “Surely she’s not going to …” But she did, and Phillip wished he had just accepted being knocked out by her that time, rather than insisting on revenge. “If this is revenge,” he thought, “I’ll take humiliation any day!”
She violated him obscenely, now pulling his body up, then pushing it back down for his torture. “Thank God she’s my ex-girlfriend!” Phillip thought, suffering hideous, unnatural pain. She worked him through various positions, seemingly insatiable, before eventually making him cum, by rubbing her leotard over his manhood.
At last Serena was satisfied, and she stood up, allowing Phillip to collapse and flop in a beaten, degraded heap. She and Siren embraced, and both seemed to derive pleasure when Siren felt for the strap on, still worn by Serena. They left the ring, hand-in-hand, glancing back at the broken man still lying on the canvas.
