The Killer Instinct

Mixed fightiing freestyle, 290 pictures 1920x1080 (FullHD), completely CFNM, no blood.

Kyoko was pleased, even impressed by her pupil, Fiena. She showed a natural ability in karate, wrestling and kick boxing. But she had one serious flaw – she lacked the killer instinct. She was supposed to be a femdom fight club fighter, therefore able – and importantly, willing - to beat up a man.

It was very frustrating. She looked the part, too: a tall, raven-haired, Japanese beauty, with full breasts and a classic hourglass figure. She looked ravishing in her black leotard, but unfortunately her heart didn’t match the colour. There was no Oriental sadistic streak. Kyoko would put her up against a man, and she would “beat him on points”, but lack the desire to knock him out, or make him yell “I submit”.

Kyoko decided to wrestle Fiena herself, and to be mean and merciless, to try to project the same “qualities” onto her pupil. Phillip, the male “star” (in that he was always available to get beaten up by one of Kyoko’s ladies) was to film it. As the rules of the club stipulated, he would be naked.

Phillip liked Fiena. He had noticed her lack of the killer instinct himself – indeed, he had been grateful for it on two occasions when he had fought her in the ring. But he didn’t view it as a fault and concluded that she was “too nice” to possess it.

He wasn’t at all happy watching Kyoko and Fiena in the ring. Kyoko quickly had her in a head scissor. At the same time, she grasped her hand and finger locked her. Phillip could see the agony on Fiena’s face. “Toughen up,” she instructed her pupil, before ordering her to “Submit now”.

But when Fiena complied, Kyoko maintained the hold. The suffering was too much for Phillip to endure, and he shouted, “Stop!”, but Kyoko merely showed him the middle finger. However when he demanded, “Bitch, let her go”, Kyoko had a mood swing. She jumped up, leaving Fiena on the mat and demanded he get in the ring “now”.

Oh. He hadn’t foreseen that. All the men were scared of Kyoko. She was a ferocious fighter, and she exploited her fabulous body – full, shapely breasts, narrow waist, broad hips and a large, round womanly bottom – to intimidate any male opponent.

Just as men had to be naked in the club, the ladies could choose the colour of their leotards, but they must be of the same material. While not being transparent, it was translucent, hazy, shimmering. Kyoto’s purple leotard, in particular, half defeated a man before the fight had even started. It teased him, the way it clung tightly to her breasts and nipples, while giving the illusion of hovering over them. And now Phillip had to fight her.

Fiena, recovering, climbed out of the ropes to watch, while Phillip, shaking slightly, went to face Kyoto. She gave him a shove, he fell over, and Fiena tried not to laugh. When he got up, Kyoto slapped his face and told him, “It’s on, bitch,” before instructing Fiena to film them.

Standing a couple of inches taller than Phillip, Kyoto raised her fists for the fight to begin. They circled briefly, then she got him full in the eye with a straight left. With a thrill, Fiena saw that she had given him a black eye. “I’d LOVE to do that!” she thought.

Phillip felt his eye throbbing while the skin around it swelled up, courtesy of Kyoto’s fist. Preoccupied as he was with it, she was able to launch herself and dive at his legs. She brought him down in a double leg takedown, or if you like, a frontal rugby tackle. Landing on him, it was straightforward for Kyoto to pin him. He put up more of a struggle than she expected; but it was a blundering, confused whirling of arms and hands rather than any skilled form of defence.

Fiena nodded her approval when Kyoto knelt on Phillip’s throat with her left leg, while locking his left arm. She smirked, noticing at the same time how she teased his naked manhood with her right leg, rubbing her calf against his cock and balls.

Kyoto turned 90 degrees, so she faced down Phillip’s body, and snapped her thighs shut on his neck in a reverse head scissor. She went to work with her long, shapely, powerful thighs. “That’s where a woman’s main strength is,” she told all her pupils, and how right she was! Her thighs were like a constrictor working either side of his neck, building up the pressure.

Phillip’s eyes were bulging, his bad eye from its recent ordeal, and his good eye from the rippling muscles in Kyoto’s upper thighs and bottom as she turned the dial up further. “Do you submit?” she asked, but he was mesmerised by all that female power. He shuddered when she reached over and began to stroke his erect penis. How dainty and manipulative her fingers looked on his cock, thought Fiena, yet how dangerous they were when clenched into a fist!

Kyoto relaxed the pressure slightly on Phillip’s neck – he wasn’t going anywhere while she had his cock in her hand. “Please don’t make me cum,” he blurted out, understanding that it would destroy what little strength he had left. “Submit now,” she told him (or else she would make him cum). He readily did submit, and lay panting with his near ejaculation, while Kyoto jumped up and posed beside him, hands on hips, looking all trim and neat, as if she had just stepped out of a shower.

But she wanted her money’s worth of posing and flexing. After standing with one foot on him for Fiena’s camera, she went over to that young woman for some close-up posing.

On the other hand, she was eager to get on with the fight. She returned to Phillip and when he failed to show the same eagerness, pulled him up by the hair, then punched him in the stomach. Fiena’s camera caught him fold and crumple round Kyoto’s right fist. It also caught the smile on Kyoto’s face as she set about her male opponent with her fist. She loved her job, and it showed. Meanwhile she powered her left fist into his kidney, driving him onto the ropes.

A blazing right hook spun Phillip along the ropes. With a thrill, Fiena saw for the first time how sexy a woman can look destroying a man in a fight. There can’t be anything so liberating, she thought, than for a woman to punch a man in the face and to watch him fly away from her fist!

A left hook from the lady pugilist put her male opponent back where he had been. She had him swinging along the ropes like a pendulum. As she was now practically facing Fiena with that punch, that young woman noticed how stiff her nipples looked under the semi-transparent material of her leotard. It must be the excitement of the fight, Fiena thought, homing the camera in on the voluptuous sight.

Phillip, like a zombie, stumbled to the middle of the ring. Kyoto let him go, but kept with him. Then she halted his progress with a right cross to the jaw. Next, with skilful footwork so that she aimed upwards as well as forwards, she landed the punch of the match.

It was a fine, glorious left cross to the chin. From an oblique angle, Fiena caught the beautiful sight of the young woman at full stretch. Her sexy round backside was in the foreground; then you saw the alluring outline of her left breast; a few delightful inches up, and there was lovely auburn hair cascading over her shoulders; lastly there was her outstretched left arm, her fist landing with a “smack” on the hapless male’s chin.

Kyoto put Phillip down professionally with a right uppercut. When her fist landed, his feet left the canvas and his mind (such as it was) left consciousness. The last – what? – 20 minutes had been the most exciting time for Fiena that she could remember. She wanted to fight like that! She enviously filmed Kyoto posing over the stricken man, one foot on his face, with him sporting an enormous “defeat boner”.

“That is domination,” Kyoto rather needlessly told her, once she was in front of her camera for some more close-up posing. “I know,” thought Fiena, “and I love it!”

But it was one kind of domination. Once Phillip regained consciousness, Kyoto opted for another, rather more taboo kind. Yes, it was a strap on. Yes, she made him suck it. While he gagged, she went into ecstasy. But at least she spared him the worst ordeal with it. Still wearing it, she returned to Fiena, whose heart leapt when she said, “Show me dominance”.

“I want to box Phillip,” she answered, licking her lips at the prospect.

Kyoto told him to be ready to box her in 30 minutes. When he hesitated, she threatened him with her fist, and he instantly decided there was nothing he would like more.

So, 30 minutes later, man and woman entered the ring. Fiena wore smart black gloves to match her leotard, and Phillip wore red ones, presumably to match his embarrassment at his loss to a woman (and his persistent erection). Kyoto took over with the camera. The boxers briskly worked through their warmup exercises and observed the formalities.

“Good girl,” thought Kyoto, when a black left glove landed on Phillip’s jaw and sent him turning 90 degrees, “keep it up!” Fiena must have read her thoughts, because she executed a similar strike to his cheekbone, sending him a further 90 degrees.

There was definitely a momentum to Fiena that she had hitherto lacked. The wrestling at the start of her lesson may or may not have worked; but what seemed to have worked beyond question was the effect Kyoto and Phillip’s fight had on her. Kyoto grinned as her enthusiastic pupil landed a right cross on Phillip’s jaw. She was delighted to see that she was smiling too, in an encouraging show of confidence.

On the other hand, there was work to do, and she hooked her left glove into Phillip’s stomach. Work on the damage first, she thought, then go for show with the face attacks.

With this in mind, Fiena surprised both Kyoto and Phillip with a brutal right kick in at his ribs. They wouldn’t mend for weeks, if not months after that, and Phillip was still absorbing the pain, when her fist got him hard on the chin. It was a fine left cross, similar in style to Kyoto’s recently that had so delighted her at the camera. Firing upwards as she did, it had him clean off his feet and landing on his backside on the mat.

“Yes!” exclaimed a jubilant Fiena. She had knocked a man down in a fight, fair and square, and how exhilarating it felt! But she was in no mood for a lot of posing. The adrenalin was pumping, and she was keen to get back into the action. The killer instinct was now firmly embedded in her psychology. She pulled Phillip up and plunged her left fist low into his stomach.

That’s where the real pain is felt (apart from the balls) she thought, watching his agonised reaction, so she intensified it by pushing him down while driving her right knee up into the same spot. Phillip coughed, staggered and groaned. Fiena gave him enough time to straighten up, then blasted his jaw with a right cross.

In a repeat of the previous effective tactic, she pushed his head down and rammed her knee up into his face. Phillip clinched in panic, but it suited Fiena well enough, because she was able to use her superior strength to force him onto the ropes. Once he was there, it was child’s stuff to free herself from his feeble “hold” on her, then smash a left hook into his face. He went round 180 degrees this time.

As before, it suited Fiena to let him recover just enough to set himself up as a target. He was beyond any defence now, and the right side of his face seemed to be offered up to one of her gloves. Help yourself, Fiena!

Her right glove beamed into his jaw, and he went down dramatically. He was out cold. NOW was the time for posing! She had done the work and Kyoto, delighted with her pupil encouraged her in her self-indulgence:

“Now this side – lovely! Nice big smile – great! Now, why don’t you go back to the useless lump of man, put a foot on him and flex? That’s right, rear view first, so all the boys buying this video can gape at your arse …”

Having seen the fun Kyoto had with the strap on, Fiena decided she was due some of it as a prize of victory. Kyoto was only too happy to help her with it and settled down to watch the entertainment.

“Entertainment”, of course, depended on whose point of view you looked at. For a newly conscious Phillip, it certainly wouldn’t have been called that. “Oh God,” he thought when Fiena ordered him to get on all fours. His worst fears were justified, too. When she demanded “Worship me,” he didn’t stop to ask how he was supposed to do that with his arse in the air, but readily answered, “Yes!”

When the ordeal was over, she stood up and stated, “I own you, Phillip.” His silent reaction to himself was, “Yeah, yeah, whatever, just please leave me alone.” But she didn’t. She made him masturbate in front of her until he came, then posed over him again.

“You were AWESOME” Kyoto told her pupil while they hugged with Phillip flaked out in the background. Fiena adored the dominance that the strap on gave her, and Kyoto gave it a naughty stroke for her. Then they left the ring, hand in hand.

Phillip, left alone in the ring, revised his opinion about Fiena being “too nice” to possess the killer instinct.