Twin troubles

Mixed wrestling, catfighting, 400 pictures 1920x1080 (Full HD), partially CFNM, no blood.

Following Monika and Torsten’s loss to the Norwegian women (Gallery 738), the German tag team agreed on the need to “reboot” their career. That had been a major loss, so they looked to pocket a minor win before going on to become serious challengers once more. So much they agreed on.

Where they disagreed was where their strengths and weaknesses lay. Monika stressed that they must next fight a mixed team, or even two men. When Torsten asked why, she told him that he “went to pieces” whenever he had to fight a woman. This, he said, was rubbish, and he would prove it. She wished she hadn’t said anything, because now he was determined to face a women’s team, for the sole purpose of contradicting her. So when the twin Korean sisters, with the Anglicised names of Amy and Suzy, put up a challenge, he accepted for the pair of them.

“They’re young and inexperienced, barely twenty,” he told his wife gleefully, “whereas we are experienced and resilient.”

“They also come from somewhere the warrior tradition is instilled in children, and prowess in combat is prized above all else,” she retorted, thinking “Here we go again,” to herself.

Still, there was no backing down now, she accepted the match with as good a grace as she could manage, and they trained very hard for it. It was agreed that Torsten would face Amy first. But before that, the four contestants stood in the ring to applause from their fans. There was still a lot of respect for Monika and Torsten, and their red outfits seemed to match the angry determination on their faces. Torsten just wore leggings, while Monika wore a leotard, daringly cut to the navel, which showed off her ripe, full, mature breasts. Trim red boots completed the striking picture.

The Korean twins, relatively unknown, wore contrasting deep blue leotards, which were equally revealing (and distracting for just about every man in the crowd, never mind Torsten). With a mutual nod, Monika and Suzy left the ring; and the seasoned, toughened man faced off against the fresh young newcomer, who looked far too dainty to be a fighter.

But daintiness is often related to nimbleness, and Amy made Torsten’s introductory side-on kick look sluggish, as she swept gracefully out of harm’s way. Moreover, she didn’t just evade his kick, but she positioned herself so she would be able to exploit his follow through. There was nothing dainty either, about the two fists that she brought down to club Torsten on the back, while he finished kicking oxygen.

He was already at full-stretch, and that blow knocked him off balance and down to the mat. Amy was on him instantly, and for a moment it looked as if she was trying to force him into a sleeper – or was it a camel clutch? Whatever, she ended up sitting on the small of his back, with her right arm head locking him, while she pulled him up by the neck.

But while she kept the crowd guessing, she was bewildering Torsten. He was just beginning to suffer serious strain in his back and upper body from the “camel clutch”, when she flipped them both over, seized hold of his wrists from underneath him, entwined their legs, and raised him above her. The crowd cheered and applauded, recognising a splendid Mexican ceiling hold.

It may have been called that, but actually it resembled a complex mechanical frame designed by German engineers, that you fold when you put it away. And that’s what Amy was doing to Torsten: folding him. But if you fold metal or wood the wrong way, you will damage it; perhaps even break it. Thus did Torsten yell as she manipulated his limbs the “wrong” way, chuckling while she had him trapped above her in that hideous (to him) frame. His body seemed to burn, from his ankles to his neck, while she notched up the pressure with her legs and hands.

At last she let him drop, shaking with the strain and pain he had just endured. Once again, there was a brief confusion of chokes and holds before she had him on his back, and lay across his chest, locking his right arm, and trapping his left under her upper thighs.

“They’re young and inexperienced, barely twenty”, Monika grimly recalled Torsten saying, while she watched the nubile young woman grinding her hips and breasts against her husband, as she tortured his right arm. To add to her indignation, Torsten’s left hand appeared uselessly from between Amy’s legs, and hovered above her bottom.

But it turned out it wasn’t useless. He braced himself, then pushed up on his left side. It took her completely by surprise, and he was able to scoop her bodily into the air. The first points rattled under Germany’s tally as he held her like a baby. Then he placed both his hands around her neck and throat, and raised her above him. Amy appeared to be helpless, as Torsten choked her, 8 feet off the mat.

It was a crisis for her, and she must escape while she had a bit of breath left. She swung her whole body, and Torsten wobbled. She swung again, harder, and the momentum took her where she wanted to be, with him staring at her sex – before it engulfed him, that is. She clamped her thighs around his face and neck in a flying head scissor, and he swayed and stumbled, trying to stay on his feet. A few laughs came from the crowd while he lurched haphazardly around the ring, with that shapely Asian limpet stuck fast to his head.

At last he succumbed and collapsed, gasping, to the mat. Gasping, that is, as much as Amy would permit. For she lay to the side of him, still with her strong, flexible thighs around his neck, although now from behind him. She reached round, seized his left arm, and forced that between her thighs as well, trapping him in a triangle choke. Then she concentrated on squeezing her victim in what looked like a delightful trap, but which could, in fact, be lethal.

At length she desisted, turned him on his side, sat on his right shoulder, and grabbed that arm, locking it behind him. Then she sat down beside him and kept up the arm lock, securing the limb in her left thigh and right arm. For good measure, she teased it against her breasts as well (to Monika’s annoyance), before sitting and straddling him, still working away at that painful arm.

Then it was back to his left arm. Amy rolled him onto his front, and twisted the unfortunate arm behind his back, in what is sometimes called a half Nelson. Torsten gave full vent to his agony, and everyone in the crowd could hear his yells as she bent his arm this way and that.

Amy leant down and spoke quietly to him:

“Do you like fighting a Korean girl?” she asked, mockingly. “We’re much sexier than your German women, all bratwurst and sauerkraut. We can fight better, too.”

She then grabbed his other wrist, and hauled both arms behind his back, levering them to the very boundary of what a person can endure. Still levering, she stood up, forcing Torsten onto his knees. Then she kicked him in the back, pulling him back by his wrists to double the effect, and he roared in pain.

“Ah, does it hurt?” Amy sadistically taunted him. “Yes, you definitely need a woman’s touch. May I?”

She let go of his wrists, put her hands on the very tender small of his back, and then instantly round his stomach. She linked her hands, and swept the bewildered man up and over her in a German suplex. He landed on his back with a thud that seemed to jar the whole arena, never mind his body, as the slight woman looked on, with a thoughtful smile on her face.

No wonder she looked thoughtful! As Torsten grimaced, following the crack on his shoulders, Amy sat on his face, with her hands on his stomach. As she luxuriously spread her legs, her left hand crept lower. She cupped his balls from outside his leggings, toying once again with the pain barrier. She applied her right hand now, and both hovered on his waistband. In the crowd, female voices started chanting, “Off, off!”

Looking on, Monika shook her head in disgust as the willowy girl eased her husband’s leggings down – but her disgust was directed more at his helplessness against the exotic young woman, than her “tactics”.

With his leggings gone, Amy allowed herself a few more moments of self-indulgence, with the face-sitting/head scissor, before reverting to pure combat. Kneeling on the small of his back, she grabbed torsten’s left leg and pulled it up behind him in an excruciating ankle lock. Then she rolled him onto his back, and hooked her right leg under his left leg, but over his right leg. She used her right leg like a spanner, forcing his legs away from any natural position below the knees. For good measure, her foot rested on his groin.

She punched him, then shifted position. With her left arm trapping his left leg and forcing it up in a lock, she leant over him from the side, and saucily winked at him. Then she stood up. She still had his left leg secured, and now she seized his right ankle. Only Torsten’s head and shoulders remained on the mat, as she now humiliatingly placed her foot on his face.

Still holding him by his legs, Amy manoeuvred him onto his front. Kneeling over his back, she tucked his legs under her arms, and dragged them back, in a Boston crab. The assault on his legs had been relentless, and now she was bringing his upper body into the onslaught as well. Chest, ribs, shoulders and stomach now vied with legs as to which was suffering the most.

Amy increased the pressure, pushing with her feet, and pulling with her hands. Torsten’s resistance collapsed. “I submit, I submit!” he implored, and Amy let go, raising her arms in triumph, to the crowd’s cheers.

Monika looked on in disgust, shaking her head and contemplating the work she would have to do just to even the score. She didn’t even look at her husband as they tagged, just whispering “Dummkopf” as they crossed, then she stepped into the ring to face Suzy.

Whereas Amy had seemed calm and almost lazy, Susy looked fierce and determined, as she and Monika circled, glaring at each other. Monika kicked; Suzy parried. Suzy kicked; Monika deflected. Defence, using arms and legs, proved initially superior to attack until Suzy broke through, brilliantly trapping Monika’s legs by a sideways left kick, while striking her face with a high right kick, all the while balancing on her right hand. With Monika stunned, she struck again, blasting her chin with practically a vertical left kick.

From outside the ring, Torsten looked on and grimly nodded. “Not so easy, is it?” he thought to himself, while his wife absorbed her punishment. Then his eyes popped as she caught Suzy nastily on the ear with a sort of hook-kick, and the German points tally doubled (to still not very many).

The slightly larger German woman caught her Korean opponent on the face again, with a vicious, rising, right kick. In response, Suzy leant inwards and, grabbing Monika’s right wrist in her right hand, and her left thigh in her left hand, raised her off the mat over the shoulders. She held her briefly in a rack before slamming her to the mat on her back, still keeping hold of her legs.

It's a cliché to say that while a man’s strength lies in his arms and shoulders, a woman’s is in her legs and hips; but like every cliché, it happens to be true. So while Suzy looked down on Monika, hissing insults that only they could hear, Monika bade her time to recover. As Suzy conveniently had her feet hooked in her arms against either side, Monika was able to flip her over, using the famed strength of a woman’s legs, to land painfully on her front.

“What was that you were saying?” whispered Monika, now catching her in a body scissor. “Sorry I interrupted you, but try saying it now, why don’t you?” and she squeezed grimly.

It was a mistake, because Monika had leant too close to Suzy, who now grasped the older woman’s throat. In the swiftly alternating fortunes of this match, it was Monika who was once again on the defensive. She was forced to relinquish the body scissor to free her throat; and with youthful speed, Suzy jumped on her back, attempting a sleeper. But a sharp elbow thrust backward by Monika scuppered that plan, and sent the Korean into retreat.

They lay in their respective sides of the ring facing each other, mutual wariness and respect communicating itself between them – that, and loathing. Then it was up to the knees and locking up, in a battle to wear the other down. Suzy placed a threatening left forearm on Monika’s throat, but the German responded by using her left arm to scoop the other woman up under her thigh. Monika stood up, carrying the Korean girl, and then slammed her onto her back. German cheers arose with the realisation that it was now one slam each.

Emboldened by the cheers, Monika ran around her stunned opponent, and kept her guessing where and how she was going to attack next. In fact it was a dual attack, with one foot on Suzy’s throat, and the other on her sex. She was literally standing on her opponent in the two places where she was most vulnerable. A sizeable minority of the crowd began to boo, and Amy stood anxiously just outside the ring. Torsten was there too, in case she joined in.

Amy protested to Monika that it was dirty fighting, and that groin attacks were not allowed. Monika countered that all attacks were allowed and that she simply didn’t “know how to fight”. But it was too much for Amy. She jumped into the ring and shoved Monika off her sister from behind. She landed on her hands and knees, with Amy bearing down on her. Torsten realised he must intervene, and entered the ring to keep Suzy occupied. Monika turned round, but Amy was on her, with momentum and height to her advantage. Meanwhile Suzy went to join the assault – and was grabbed from behind by Torsten.

The crowd now had two fights to watch, as Monika and Amy grappled for dominance, while Suzy turned the tables on Torsten. Eager to atone for his poor performance earlier, he tried to do too much, not content with merely restraining Amy, and he had overlooked how wily and inventive she was. She got him on his knees, while she twisted his left arm behind his back.

Meanwhile, after a back-and-forth fight, with first one on top and then the other, Amy had Monika in a schoolgirl pin, before clasping her throat as her sister had done earlier. But just as Monika had escaped that time, she did so again, and she spun Amy over to dominate in turn, pinning her with a knee to her throat.

If the spectators could tear their eyes away from that riveting contest for a moment, they would have seen one slight Korean girl, holding a powerful man’s arm in a lock behind his back, while she set about punching his face with her free hand. The more she punished his left ear, cheek and jaw, the more Monika enhanced her supremacy over Amy, pushing with her knee on her throat while she pinned her wrists.

She left off finally, content just to have her trapped in a pin, while Suzy at last stopped laying into Torsten with her fist, and opted to stand with one foot on his throat. Something would have to give, and it came from Amy. Sensing Monika weakening (she’d been fighting for a long time now) she managed to free her left arm, and punched Monika in the groin, who shot up to her feet, once again grappling with Amy.

On the other side of the ring, Suzy now had Torsten’s right arm locked behind his back while he “balanced” on his left hand and right knee on the mat. Shouts from him indicated a particularly fierce wrench of his arm by her. But there was another shout, this time of triumph from Koreans in the crowd as they watched Amy lift Monika up and over her, before crashing her down on the mat in a German Suplex.

At the same time, Suzy lifted the helpless Torsten onto her shoulders. Seeing Monika land, shaken, on the mat, she literally threw Torsten at her, and he landed across her. Then the twins moved in. Amy sat on Torsten’s right leg, so he wouldn’t go anywhere, and Suzy chose to sit somewhere else.

“You said groin attacks were ok, didn’t you?” Amy taunted Monika, trapped under Torsten’s dead weight. “Well you can’t see what my sister’s doing, but she’s sitting on your husband’s face, and she’s got her hand around his cock. Hang on, if I move your head to the side, you can just see her hand when it’s moved down against his balls. Then it disappears from your view as it travels to the head. She’s squeezing his cock – listen to him yell! – and keeps crossing and recrossing the boundary between pleasure and pain, that we Korean girls excel at. Now she’s having a go at his balls…”

After all she’d been through, and with the weight of two people on her, Monika passed out. Torsten, too, slumped over his wife, no fight left in him, and the points screen gave its verdict: a win for Korea. The victorious twins stood over their beaten opponents and celebrated, Amy with her foot on Monika’s head, and Suzy with a foot on Torsten’s cock. Wild female cheers arose when it made the semi-conscious man cum, awarding the twins double points.