FreeCatFights

Note:
Previously, my "heroine" mother was called Karen, because I do know a muscular Karen Kwan. :p Also, the alliteration's nice.

But then, since I made the daughter Dahlia... the more I thought about it, the more I liked a floral naming theme. So, with this continuation (and thanks to all for reading and appreciating), I am retconning the name! It shall be Camellia and Dahlia Kwan, possibly the most muscular Asian mother-daughter pair in Santa Clara. Or are they...? ;)

Here was the first series:
https://www.freecatfights.com/forums/index.php?topic=82246.msg578154#msg578154

**

For months after their bitter, brutal battle to the finish, Dahlia and Sylvia do not meet or speak with each other, via any channel. Sylvia posts a photo of herself on Instagram: a back view of herself standing on a balcony during sunrise, wearing only tiny thongs, flexing her arms. Taken by her mother, obviously. The accompanying caption says, "The muscles of a true champion – Mom and I know who REALLY won." But she doesn't tag Dahlia, and Dahlia gives no sign of having seen it, even though she has.

Likewise, Dahlia posts a gym picture of herself and her mother Camellia – arms around each other, beaming in midriff-baring tank tops as they each flex their free arms – she captions it with: "Always getting stronger together. I'm a winner because of you, Mom. #bestmomintheworld #strongestmom". Neither Sylvia nor Sheila take the bait, and no hot-tempered messaging conversations take place between the two families. As far as anyone else can see it's all just benign, wholesome mother-daughter fitness posting.

But behind the scenes...

A terse message comes in one afternoon, from Sheila to Camellia. "We need to talk."

It spoils Camellia's entire day. She finishes the rest of her work day in a distracted state, then comes home to find her daughter already waiting. "Hi, Mom."

"Hi, honey."

They share a kiss. Camellia shows her daughter the text.

"This is it. The next challenge," Dahlia says quietly.

Camellia nods, feeling her heart thud with anticipation. They sit down together on their couch. With Dahlia's hand supportively caressing her thigh, Camellia texts back. "What about?"

The reply is immediate -- Sheila has probably been waiting all day. "Our rematch. I want to beat your weak ass again and make it mine."

Camellia considers her response for a moment, then replies. "I will never back down from a challenge from you. When, where and how?"

"First let's talk," comes the next message. "Face to face. Coffee this Saturday afternoon." They name a place and time -- a popular cafe downtown.

Camellia looks up to meet Dahlia's shining eyes. "She has no idea what she's in for," Dahlia says adoringly. Her fingers squeeze her mother's hardened thigh muscles. Her arm rubs fondly against Camellia's muscular uppper arm.

Within these few months, they have been working out together harder than they ever have. Both women are now as strong and muscular as they have ever been, with broad solid shoulders and thick wide backs. Dahlia is particularly proud of her mother's lean, striated chest, although her own pecs are fuller and fleshier. Their thighs are so well-developed now that neither can wear skinny jeans comfortably. Their arms look big and powerful. Overall, Camellia is still leaner and slighter of frame than her daughter, but this is the biggest she's ever been in terms of muscle mass.

Dahlia frowns. Something in her mother's gaze is off. "What's wrong, Mom?"

"I don't know if I can beat her," Camellia says softly.

"Of course you can!"

But Camellia shakes her head slowly. "I've been outmuscled by Sheila every single time, in every way. She's... just so big. And strong."

"It's only been a few times so far," Dahlia protests weakly. She takes her mother's hands in her own, squeezing tight. "You can beat her. Especially if I'm there for you. I know you can do pull through. You can win, like you helped me win," she says fiercely.

Camellia strokes her daughter's cheek lovingly. "I'm so proud of you for winning your duel," she says fondly. "You were magnificent. But I really don't know if I can do it too. And... honey..." She gives a small sigh. "I'm 52 this year. I think this is my physical peak. This is as strong and fit as I can get."

"You're always going to be strong and sexy."

"I know you'll always think so, honey. And I'm proud of where I've gotten, with your help."

Their workouts at home now involve Dahlia giving her mother a constant "boost" with hands and mouth. Dumbbell shoulder presses, for example, are done with Camellia sitting atop Dahlia's face with dumbbells in hand. Spotting Camellia for squats, to Dahlia, means rubbing her mother's clit and nipples from behind, giving her the strength to always eke out something extra. Training each other like this has allowed them to achieve tremendous progress.

"I'm proud, don't think I'm not," Camellia says. "But this is my limit. I can feel it in my bones. It's all downhill from here. If I don't win against Sheila this time... I think I may never beat her. And that'll be it. She'll always be the better, stronger woman."

"Never."

"It's the truth," Camellia says gently.

"Never!" Dahlia kisses her mother fiercely, tearing up as she does so. When she breaks off she says in a small voice, "Maybe she'll win. But she'll never be better than you."

"Stronger, then."

"We'll see. I believe in you, Mom. You can win." You have to win, Dahlia thinks to herself as they embrace and start kissing a bit more sensually...

The Kwans and the Steeles meet at the cafe, exchange curt nods, find a table in a quiet corner, and sit. All four of them are attracting covert and not-so-covert looks from passers-by and the other patrons -- four women sitting together in varying combinations of halter tops, muscle tees and spaghetti-strap tank tops, each sporting a physique to put bodybuilders to shame.

"You're looking fit, Camellia," Sheila says, with a small smirk playing about her lips. Her inverted halter top showcases her massive shoulders and arms perfectly. She is the picture of a champion strongwoman competitor, and she knows it, as she sits smugly with folded arms resting casually on the table.

Across from her, Camellia coolly replies, "You look fit as well, Sheila." She meets Sheila's gaze steadily.

Beside them, Dahlia and Sylvia can barely conceal their mutual animosity, glaring at each other and clenching fists visibly. "You know I was the real winner," Sylvia mutters.

"Winners don't get KOed, last I checked," Dahlia says.

"You were practically dead on your butt. You just didn't know you were already defeated."

"Maybe because I wasn't? I beat you fair and square, Sylvia." Dahlia's eyes narrow. "I was the stronger daughter. And I have the stronger mother."

Sylvia's lips curl. "Well, we're gonna see about that, aren't we, Mom."

"Yes, dear." Sheila leans forward slightly. Camellia doesn't back away. "I still remember our last woman-to-woman match very well, Camellia. I replay it in my mind all the time. So does my daughter. You've given us both many, many good, strong orgasms, Camellia."

Camellia makes no reply to that. Her jaw tightens. Dahlia flushes, but says nothing.

"I think it should become a fine family tradition for us. We should make this regular. You and me, a few times every year. Every season. And each and every time will end the same way... with you bowed down, dominated, subjugated, worshipping my superior muscles, while your girl pays tribute to my superior pussy." Her voice has gone low and husky as she paints this mental image.

"No. I'll have to decline, I'm afraid," Camellia says dryly. "I think we both know it, Sheila. You and I aren't getting any younger. We both probably have just one last duel left in us."

"Maybe you feel that way, but I sure don't," Sheila laughs, leaning back in her chair and stretching her arms behind her. She grins, knowing how she looks as her muscles ripple all over her body. Sylvia gives a small squeal of delight and wriggles in her seat. There is now not a single pair of eyes within a twenty-foot radius not fixated upon their table, even though no one is close enough to hear what they're talking about. "I feel like I could keep doing this forever!"

"Must be the steroids. Don't lie," Dahlia snaps, as Sylvia opens her mouth indignantly. "We know you're on PEDs."

"What gave it away? Our superior physiques?" Sylvia chuckles meanly. "So what if we are? Just means we're stronger and better than you."

"Just means that I beat you even though you cheated."

"You..."

"Hush, dear. Not too loud. And leave it. Don't mind their yapping," Sheila says. She fixes Camellia with a glare, which Camellia returns. "Whether or not we've used steroids, you know that I could always beat you at any physical contest, Camellia. You know it, I know it. There's exactly one time you two beat us two, and that was the tug-of-war which was a total fluke. The grass was slippery on our side, or something, I don't know."

"My daughter clearly beat yours. She outmuscled and outlasted your Sylvia. That's a fact, Sheila, and denying it just makes you look weak. And childish."

Now anger flashed clearly in Sheila's eyes. She leaned forward again, so that her breath could be felt against Camellia's face. "What-fucking-ever. My girl will trounce yours in the rematch. Now we're talking about you and me, Camellia. I've been waiting to go again with you. And I'm glad, Camellia, sweetie. I'm glad to see you looking so buff, packing more muscle than you've ever packed. I'm still bigger and better than you. I'm still going to dominate you, and whoop your ass in front of your darling daughter. And this time... let's raise the stakes. My girl and I recently got one of those double-ended strap-on harnesses, you know? When you wear it, one end goes into your pussy. Winner uses that on loser. Winner fucks loser to her heart's content. Deal, Camellia?"

Tight-lipped, Camellia gives a single, firm nod.

Sheila breaks out into a broad smile. "Good. I'm gonna be fucking you every holiday, you better believe it."

"No. Just once. This rematch is our last. Once and for all. We'll see who's the better woman."

"Once and... you really are serious, aren't you."

"You know I always am."

Sheila looks disappointed. Then she glances over at Dahlia, who cannot help gnawing her lip anxiously, and brightens up. "All right then. Once and for all. Guess your libido's peaked. And besides... we have our girls to keep going on our behalf. The next generation, right, sweetie?" she says, addressing Dahlia. "Sylvia will love pounding your pussy on the holidays."

"You mean the other way around, Aunty," Dahlia replies sweetly. "And I'll make sure I let you lick her juices off the strap-on after I'm done with her."

The Steeles glare in wide-eyed shock at Dahlia's audacity, and even Camellia gasps a little.

Then Sylvia starts chuckling in disbelief, and Sheila starts smiling as well. "Didn't know you had it in you. We're gonna have so much fun, Dahlia honey. So much fun!" Sylvia laughs breathlessly.

"If you're serious about not doing this anymore, Camellia, that's a real pity," Sheila says ruefully. "I like what we have. But at least your daughter's got more spirit than you. This will be good, this thing we have going on. This will be really good."

Camellia is outwardly calm but inwardly still reeling a bit from what her daughter just said. This is her daughter's choice -- to become thoroughly embroiled in this strange family fitness feud that came out of nowhere -- and she will always support Dahlia fully, but... Oh honey, she thinks, do you know what you're really in for?

"So, it's settled then. You and I, one last time. Whoever wins is..."

"... the stronger, better mother," Sheila finishes for her. "And we seal it with a good doggy-style, plus whatever else Sylvia and I can think of."

"Dahlia and I will think of things for you two as well. What are the terms?"

Sheila smiles. "You're gonna love this..."

How will Sheila Steele and Camellia Kwan battle? How will they compete in their final duel?

Fantastic start. I especially love Cammelia. Her fears and insecurity. Although strong she knows she is the weakest. Her physique is muscular but thin and not strong enough to counter the other much larger mother. I think Cammelia would like to avoid another fight because of the fear of being defeated, dominated and humiliated in front of her daughter again. But she will have to fight. It is inevitable. Then since I love thinner and weaker women I hope she will be overpowered by her rival this time too.

Well actually Camellia has beefed up quite a bit :p

Hey there! It's been a while. SO glad to see you back and writing. Hope all is well and look forward to what comes next!

"It's simple," Sheila says. "We fight... until one of us submits, or can't go on."

"Fight...?"

"Yes. We fight. Punches, kicks, all strikes allowed. Wrestling holds, of course. Like MMA."

Camellia swallows. Her throat is suddenly dry. She can sense her daughter radiating consternation beside her. Sylvia is now openly smirking, unable to contain her glee at this bombshell dropped by her mother.

To fight Sheila like that... woman to woman... with fists and knees, punches and kicks... choke holds, elbows...

To finally, finally take out her anger and frustration on this big bully of a woman who had been causing her and Dahlia so much grief...

In a contest of pure muscular strength, she knows she has no chance. Even with Dahlia stimulating her, giving her strength by bringing her to orgasm, she cannot outmuscle Sheila, especially if Sheila also has Sylvia doing the same for her. Part of her has been resigned to this fact, and mentally preparing for a complete, one-sided domination in a wrestling match, feeling her muscles lose against Sheila's until she can no longer continue. But in a fight... even though she has never done MMA or kickboxing or anything similar in her life... a lucky or well-placed strike could turn the tide in her favor, turn things around in the blink of an eye. In theory, anyway.

Her heart is thudding. She knows she will accept. She opens her mouth.

"No!"

Dahlia practically shouts her refusal. Her eyes are wide, and she is slowly shaking her head from side to side. "No," she says, in a more hushed voice, but no less urgently. "This is crazy. It's unfair. We haven't been training for combat at all. And that's dangerous, anyway! We would need a referee..."

"Oh, no problem. We have a venue, we have a referee... and we'll likely have an audience," Sheila laughs. "I'll tell you the details in a bit. Don't worry, Dahlia dear... I'll be honest, Sylvia and I haven't been training for fighting either."

"Not much, anyway," Sylvia puts in, still grinning. "Just a bit of playful sparring now and then. You know how it is... just to see each other's muscles work a bit differently than usual..."

"But this is how we should do it, Camellia. For our last duel, woman to woman... mother to mother..." Sheila leans in. "Everything we've got. Strength, speed, skill, stamina. And spirit. This is how we see who the better woman is. Whose muscles are better. Who's got more willpower. Who's stronger and sexier."

"A public match...?" Dahlia says, sounding uncertain.

"Private. Only a small audience. Women we know. And the referee's a friend of ours. Don't worry though, she'll be fair," Sheila chuckles. "We fight, in the nude. Just body against body. And... let's schedule it three months from now. So we've both got plenty of time to prepare. Our daughters will be in our corners, but we fight just one continuous round, no breaks in between. No interference from our girls, either. The loser gets taken by the winner, right there in the middle of the mat. And the winner's daughter, of course."

"And the loser's daughter will just watch, and wait her turn," Sylvia says nastily. "Or you can join in if you like, Dahlia, and get taken alongside your mom."

"Well?" Sheila suddenly demands. "What do you say, Camellia? Are you woman enough to accept my challenge? Because if you don't... then you should just bend over, right now, and take it from me, from behind," she finishes triumphantly.

"Yeah, what's your mom made of, Dahlia?" Sylvia sneers. "Is she too chicken for this?"

Beneath the table, Camellia's and Dahlia's hands find each other, and grip tightly. They turn to look into each other's eyes.

Camellia knows Dahlia was just concerned for her health and physical safety, but still... the "No!" still resounds in her mind. Does her daughter have so little confidence in her...?

She sees Dahlia's jaw working... and then Dahlia's face settles into an expression of grim resolve. She nods once, firmly. Camellia nods back.

Then she turns to meet Sheila's eyes. Sheila is flushed with excitement, as is Sylvia. Camellia feels a bit of a rush as well as she says, "We accept."

A fighting chance, she thinks. I have a fighting chance...

Camellia is bathed in sweat. Her breath comes in short, ragged gasps. It is all she can do to keep her arms up and her fists bunched.

Dahlia stands in front of her, holding up a pair of focus pads. Her naked body is covered with a glistening sheen of sweat. They have been training together for an hour.

"C'mon Mom! One more!" she urges.

Camellia gathers her strength and slams yet another combo into the pads -- left jab, left jab, right cross, left uppercut, right overhand. By the time she gets to the uppercut, her punch lands with minimal force. The last overhand sends her staggering forward, almost blind from the sweat dripping into her eyes.

Her daughter catches her, and she slumps against Dahlia's strong, sturdy body, panting and wheezing with exhaustion. "Ahh... haaa... haa..."

Affectionately, Dahlia licks and kisses the beads of perspiration on her mother's eyelids, allowing Camellia to open her eyes again. Camellia glances at the timer on the laptop screen they've set up.

"Four minutes and a bit," Dahlia notes. "It's an improvement, Mom."

She is trying to sound encouraging, Camellia knows, but she quietly swallows her disappointment and anxiety. Her heart thumps painfully in her rib cage. Four minutes of continuous footwork, plus punching and kicking... her muscles ache all over, especially her shoulders. This is the best she can do, with her cardiovascular fitness. Just four minutes...

The latest video sent over by the Steeles shows Sheila and Sylvia training together (also in the nude, as always), with Sheila lasting nearly seven minutes, sending a barrage of punches, kicks and knee strikes into Sylvia's focus pads. It is intimidating to see someone as bulky as Sheila move so quickly, and striking with manifest power. Camellia knows she has to step up her game, and her Dahlia is always there for her, every step of the way... but this may very well be the best she can do. Four minutes, to Sheila's seven...

Another video shows Sheila grappling on the mat with a fairly large man, of comparable size and build. Three minutes of sweaty wrestling, replete with grunting and gasping, ends with the man trapped in a rear-naked choke and frantically tapping out, though there were moments when it seemed Sheila might be pinned and forced to submit. That video ends with Sheila standing triumphantly, one foot on the conquered man, while Sylvia proudly raises her mother's arm in victory.

Camellia and Dahlia haven't found a male opponent for her, nor do they intend to. In her heart of hearts, Camellia knows it is unlikely that she can match Sheila's display of physical prowess.

And finally, a video was sent last week showcasing Sheila's raw strength: deadlifting 500lbs -- which, for someone not a competitive powerlifter, and at her age and body weight, is extremely impressive. Sheila's entire body ripples with strength and sexiness in that video as she stands holding the weight for 3 full seconds while Sylvia, off-camera, screams with excitement.

Camellia currently maxes out at 320lbs and can barely hold the weight at the top for a full second before having to let go.

Fighting skill, endurance, raw muscular strength... Camellia is no match for Sheila in any aspect. As she stands plastered against her daughter's bare front, her body weight being held up almost entirely by Dahlia, Camellia begins to feel tears burning in the corners of her eyes.

Is this it for Camellia? Has she reached her limit? Is this as far as she can go?

What will Dahlia think, as she watches her mother face a superior opponent she simply cannot defeat? How will Dahlia feel, as she watches her mother take the punishment of the loser? And in front of an audience, no less?

She can't win. But she has to win. She can't let her daughter feel the shame of her defeat.

But she knows she can't win.

But she has to win.

She will bend iver and take it from behind, as it was said, after her loss

Fantastic build up. I can't wait.

Hilda Eberhardt, the owner of the private basement gym where the Steeles and Kwans have been duelling, has never been around for their private family fights, but for this one she has finally surfaced and insists on a small invited audience: only about a dozen or so of her most loyal gym members over the years, all big strong women themselves. The Steeles have memberships; the Kwans do not.

So Hilda has asked to meet Camellia and Dahlia in person, to get to know them. "After all, it's not a small thing you're going to do, and we need to at least be reasonably familiar with each other first before this match," says her message to Camellia. "We would all feel more comfortable that way, don't you agree?"

They meet with her inside the gym itself, on the ground level -- above the basement where their duels have been taking place. She is a well-built muscular woman, and looks every inch as strong and powerful as her name suggests. In fact, Dahlia privately thinks that she might be a match for Sheila. Perhaps even more -- she's tall, maybe an inch taller than Sheila or Camellia.

"Will you have any objections to me being the referee for your match?" she asks. It turns out she was the "friend" Sheila mentioned. She seems open and honest, though, unlikely to be a biased referee.

Camellia calmly shakes her head. "I have no objections," she says softly. Dahlia takes her mother's hand and gives it a fond squeeze. Camellia squeezes back.

"They have made friends here in my gym," Hilda informs them. "The audience will be mostly those women. Some of them have daughters as well, and may be bringing them along. I said no to husbands, though."

"Understood," Camellia says gratefully. "I'm still not fully comfortable about fighting Sheila in front of an audience, though... but I'll cope."

"I do have a purse for you both," Hilda offers. "I can treat you as performers. 800 for the winner, 300 for the loser."

"Thanks, but that's not important to us," Camellia politely declines. "I don't think Sheila and I are motivated by the money, to be perfectly honest."

"Oh, I know you are, but considering how I am collecting money from the spectators... it's only fair, ya?" A hint of her German accent appears briefly. "Don't worry about it. It is there for you after the match. I will make sure of it."

"Then... thank you. And we are counting on you to be a fair and impartial referee." Camellia inclines her head slightly. Dahlia nods in agreement.

"Don't worry on that score. Sheila and I are not that good of friends," Hilda laughs. "She is a paying member, she and her daughter, but honestly, sometimes I feel like telling them to cool down, knock it off, you know? They get rowdy and noisy in the gym, you know? Banging weights for no good reason, slamming things around and making noise, thinking they are being impressive. I think most people think they're obnoxious, but they have their clique, other women who are impressed by how strong and muscular they are. Sylvia's a bit like a gang leader with a few of the younger ones. I will be fair, not to worry yourselves, ya?"

They talk over the terms of the fight. Hilda will be allowing them to pound and beat each other, since that is the nature of the fight. "But no scratching, clawing, hair-pulling, eye-gouging, striking of genitals or nipples. Nothing that will cause such serious or permanent injury. Bruises, strained joints and muscles, that is what I will allow. Sheila knows this."

And of course, no interference allowed at all from the two girls. "You can watch, you can cheer, but you cannot touch either woman."

They make some more small talk. Then, before the Kwans leave, Hilda says, "Camellia... I want to satisfy my curiosity on one point. Will you indulge me, please?"

"What is it?"

Instead of answering, Hilda turns and walks to the free weights area, beckoning for them to follow. Hand in hand, the Kwans do so.

Hilda goes down on one knee beside a bench, strips off her t-shirt -- bare-chested underneath -- and puts up an arm in challenge. "Let me feel for myself how strong you are, Camellia. I've arm wrestled with Sheila and her daughter quite a few times recently, and I know Sheila's strength. Let me feel yours."

Wordlessly, Camellia takes up position opposite Hilda, and strips off her sports bra to go topless as well. Dahlia crouches beside her, not touching, but gazing lovingly and adoringly at her mother's upper body muscles.

It is such a feat of athleticism, Dahlia thinks, for her mother to have put on so much thick muscle mass in such a relatively short time, at her age. Mom should be celebrated as the strongest, sexiest mother alive, she thinks, and a role model for women everywhere. It would be so, so wrong for Camellia to be humiliated by someone like Sheila. So wrong. Her fingers curl at the thought.

But she sees how large and well-muscled Hilda is, and her breath catches slightly in her chest. She puts out a hand and rests it on her mother's left shoulder. "Come on, Mom, show her what you've got."

Hilda and Camellia lock hands, nod at each other, and begin their test of arm strength. They slowly ramp up the intensity for about a full minute, until Camellia's muscles are fully flexed and her arm is trembling.

But Hilda is clearly putting out only a fraction of her power. She begins pulling Camellia down. There is very little Camellia can do to arrest or slow her dominant progress. Despite Dahlia's urging and encouragement, within another minute Hilda has Camellia's arm down almost all the way. Then she appears to wait, arm flexed but without much visible strain, while Camellia strives in vain to mount a comeback, until the veins on Camellia's arm are standing out.

Some more long moments, and then Hilda gives a little grunt as she presses Camellia's hand down fully. Camellia slumps with a defeated sigh.

Hilda gets up and doesn't say anything as she puts her shirt back on. Dahlia puts her arms around her mother for a comforting hug, but her heart is sinking.

"Good luck," Hilda says, as they leave the gym with friendly waves all around.

Did she maybe mentally add you'll need it at the end? Both Dahlia and Camellia cannot help thinking so.

What if Hilda found Sheila to be much tougher as an opponent? What if Sheila could even beat Hilda sometimes? Thinking back to Hilda's level of muscle, Dahlia finds it not unlikely.

"Hilda is incredibly strong," Camellia says suddenly. Her eyes are downcast as they walk along together. "I've never felt anyone's arm so overwhelmingly strong. Not even Sheila's, at least, not the last time we locked up. There are much stronger women than me out there, my love," she says, looking up at her daughter with a rueful smile.

Dahlia squeezes her mom's hand tightly. "There's no one sexier. And I believe in you. You can do it, for us. You can win this, Mom. I know you can."

Camellia does not reply. She can sense her daughter's fear and uncertainty. It does not need to be mentioned -- they know each other's hearts.

For the sake of her daughter... so that she can see Dahlia's joyful smile instead of her anguished tears... Camellia will push herself to her very limits, and perhaps beyond. Will it be enough?

Wow...now a strong German Woman appears... will we see two humiliated moms at the end???

The lights are bright in the basement. This means every vein, every muscle striation, every bead of sweat can be seen clearly by everyone present.

Dahlia glances at the audience again. It is a small handful of women, gym regulars as Hilda said earlier. They sit together in a group on rows of chairs placed beside the wrestling mat, eight of them in all -- six of them somewhat older, and two who seem to be around Dahlia's age. They converse with each other in low voices, casting appraising glances at both Camellia and Dahlia.

Instead of using the boxing ring, they have decided to hold the match on the mat instead. More up close and personal, just the way the audience wants it. Dahlia shivers slightly; she can sense the simmering bloodlust behind some of those eyes. Surely Hilda won't let this get too violent...? She wants to see her mother prove herself as the stronger, tougher woman. She can just about bear to watch her mother enduring a painful wrestling hold. She doesn't want to see Camellia get too badly hurt.

She and Camellia are both naked -- she stripped down in solidarity, as a symbolic gesture that they are a team, and in this together. Her nipples are stiff with tension, and her goosebumps rise all over her bare upper torso. She puts an arm around her mother's waist, and feels Camellia's slight trembling. Her mother is just as nervous as she is.

Across the mat from them stand their rivals. Sylvia is wearing just a pair of tight denim cut-offs -- she had been wearing a halter-top bra, but upon seeing Dahlia strip naked she'd decided to take her top off. At the moment, Sheila is flexing and posing proudly, drawing some admiring comments from a few of the spectators, and Sylvia is fondy rubbing and caressing her mother's muscles all over, while casting glances their way -- probably gauging their emotional state.

"How are you feeling, Mom?" Dahlia whispers into her mother's ear, while nuzzling her neck.

"My heart is pounding," Camellia whispers back. "My hands feel cold. My legs feel soft and weak. Dahlia... darling... what if..."

Camellia's composure is legendary, and it pains Dahlia so much to see it cracking now. Even her strong Muscle Mom has moments of weakness. Camellia needs her Dahlia's strength joined to hers, now more than ever. She takes her mother's hands and stands close, face to face, chest to chest.

"I'll be cheering for you every moment. I know you have what it takes to win, to beat her. I'm in your corner forever, Mom. I love you forever. No matter what happens, we'll face it together. You're my strong, powerful Muscle Mom. We can do it. Together."

"Together. We're strong together," Camellia murmurs, as their lips brush. They start kissing.

"Strong together," Dahlia moans as their kissing grows more passionate.

Meanwhile, Sylvia has one hand firmly against her mother's crotch and is rubbing away as Sheila stands in a powerful double-biceps stance. Sheila's lips are parted as her daughter gives her this last boost before the match begins. She is gazing over at Camellia and Dahlia with slightly glazed eyes. Sylvia's voice carries over. "Crush them, Mom. Dominate them. You're the best. You're so much better. You'll crush her and make her beg, while Dahlia watches and cries."

"And after I make her submit..." Sheila says, sounding a little breathless, "Dahlia is yours, honey, to play with."

"I can't wait," Sylvia chuckles, her hand working away wetly at her mother's pussy.

As Camellia and Dahlia embrace, Dahlia slides one thigh in between her mother's legs. In response, Camellia squeezes firmly. Dahlia can feel her mother's wetness on her own skin. Camellia is already as aroused as she can be without Dahlia trying to bring her straight to orgasm. This will have to suffice. In just a few moments, when Hilda gives the signal, Camellia will have to detach herself from her source of strength and step out into the middle of the mat to face Sheila. She will be on her own.

"All right, fighters to the center," Hilda calls out. She is wearing a white collared vest and a black pair of training shorts, the closest thing she has to a referee outfit. She gestures at both women.

Sheila and Camellia both walk towards each other slowly, until they stand a couple of feet apart, locking gazes. The battle of wills has already begun. They are barely listening as Hilda briefly goes over the basic rules of their fight. For Camellia, the world reduces to just her and her nemesis. Sheila's body looks like it is covered with chunks of hard muscle, large and full. Her skin glistens, setting off her muscle tone. There is not a single chink Camellia can see in Sheila's armor.

"This will be a bloodbath," one of the spectators comments gleefully. "Look at the weight class difference."

"Don't write her off just yet, she looks like she can wrestle," another remarks.

"You mean she can take a beating," yet another laughs, one of the younger ones with an auburn ponytail. "If what Sylvia has been saying is true, we're in for a real treat, seeing this Camellia take all the punishment Sheila can dish out."

Listening to all this while standing in their corner, Dahlia feels her cheeks burn. How dare they talk about her beloved mother like this? Her brave, beautiful mother. Prove them wrong! Show them how strong you are! Dahlia rages silently inside.

"This is it, Camellia," Sheila says, as Hilda prepares to start them off. "Our final battle. I won't make this quick, Camellia. I'll draw this out. I'll make it crystal clear to everyone, I'm the stronger and better woman."

Camellia doesn't say anything. Trash talk has never been in her nature. She will let her muscles speak for her, as powerfully as they can. She raises her arms in a guard position, adopting a posture of readiness.

Hilda's hand chops down, and Sheila makes her first move...

Here we go! The buildup had been amazing Katie. Cant wait for this epic showdown between these two women! This has been long time coming! Glad to see you back!

Quote from: ColombianCouple on September 13, 2023, 09:01:06 PM
Wow...now a strong German Woman appears... will we see two humiliated moms at the end???

If Hilda interferes against Sheila and Sheila can bring her gym gang against her maybe we even have the Kwans and Hilda humilated...

Okay, I need to do a retcon of this  :-X I've thought about it some more and the story can go differently. I don't really want to introduce the character of Hilda into the mix after all -- I have no role for her to play!

So... no Hilda Eberhardt. And, add this to the cafe conversation.

---

They talk some more, over the terms of the fight. The venue is different: it will be at the home of the Steeles, their spacious basement gym with a wrestling mat. And... there will be an audience. A small group of other gym-goers, some of them with daughters of their own, friends of Sheila and Sylvia. Camellia and Dahlia don't do much socializing at the gym, so they don't have any friends of their own to bring along as spectators. Or supporters.

In other words... the Steeles will have home ground advantage. The Kwans will be on their turf.

And there is one more question to resolve...

"A fight like this needs a referee," Dahlia insists. "We need rules. It can't be anything goes, or no holds barred."

"Agreed," Sylvia instantly replies, to Dahlia's surprise. "It needs to be fair. And the referee has to make sure it doesn't go too far. If one woman can't continue, she loses."

"Right. So who do we have? One of your friends?" Dahlia says skeptically.

"Even better." Sylvia looks her rival dead in the eye. "It'll have to be one of us."

"One of...!"

Sheila is beaming from ear to ear. Camellia's eyes widen, but she says nothing.

"Here's what we'll do, Dahlia. Before the match, before our moms battle... you and me, we'll arm wrestle. Just us! No fingering, no orgasms. Just pure strength, my muscle against yours, arm against arm." Sylvia's voice has gone low and husky. "The stronger daughter deserves to be the referee for the match."

Dahlia tries not to let her apprehension show. "Yes. Agreed." Inwardly, she thinks to herself, I needed two orgasms the other time, to beat those massive muscles of hers. Can I do it this time, without Mom's help...?

"And the loser," Sylvia crows gleefully, "should be chained up during the fight, like a slave! To make sure there's no interference!"

They argue over this for a bit... but eventually, the Kwans accept these terms. They have little choice -- they can't back down from this challenge. The losing daughter will watch the match on her knees, with her hands cuffed and chained behind her back and to her ankles. An emotional and psychological blow to the loser's mother, while the winner's mother will have the comfort of knowing her daughter is refereeing the fight.

The Steeles react disdainfully to the idea that they'll cheat to gain an unfair advantage. "As if I'll need to cheat to beat you, Camellia!" Sheila snorts.

"I just want to be all up in your face, Camellia, as you submit to my stronger mom," Sylvia declares spitefully. "And then I get to have my way with you while you're all helpless, Dahlia!"

Later that night, as they cuddle in bed, Dahlia props herself up on her side and flexes her right arm as powerfully as she can.

"I'm not going to lose to her, Mom," she says, her voice thick with emotion. Her muscles bulge powerfully. "I'm going to make my arm stronger than it has ever been. When you face Sheila, Mom, I'm going to be right there by your side. I'll keep her in line. I'll be right beside you when we hear Sheila submit, and admit you're better than her."

Camellia gives her daughter's biceps a loving squeeze. "So firm... so hard..." she murmurs fondly.

"Strong for you, Mom. You gave this to me. I'm going to use it for you."

So cheesy, so corny. But this is how intimate they have always been. And Camellia knows her daughter means every word, with all her heart. "You can do it," she says, with utter conviction. "You are stronger than Sylvia. They're all going to see it. And they'll have to accept it, once and for all, once they see you put her arm down."

"And you're stronger than Sheila."

For you, I will be, Camellia thinks as she reaches up and pulls her daughter's face down to her own. I have to be.

The lights are bright in the basement. This means every vein, every muscle striation, every bead of sweat can be seen clearly by everyone present.

Dahlia glances at the audience again. It is a small handful of women, all friends of either Sheila or Sylvia. They sit in a circle of chairs placed around the wrestling mat, eight of them in all -- six of them somewhat older, and two who seem to be around Dahlia's age, apparently two other mother-daughter pairs. They converse with each other in low voices, casting appraising glances at both Camellia and Dahlia.

This is up close and personal, just the way the audience wants it. Dahlia shivers slightly; she can sense the simmering bloodlust behind some of those eyes. She can't let this get too violent; she wants to see her mother prove herself as the stronger, tougher woman. She can just about bear to watch her mother enduring a painful wrestling hold. She doesn't want to see Camellia get too badly hurt by punches and kicks. But if she is to have any say in things at all... she has to win her arm wrestling match first.

Camellia is naked and ready. Dahlia is wearing only a pair of tight boy shorts -- since she and Sylvia won't be wrestling they've agreed that the two of them don't need to be fully naked, unless they want to be. Her nipples are stiff with tension, and her goosebumps rise all over her bare upper torso. She puts an arm around her mother's waist, and feels Camellia's slight trembling. Her mother is just as nervous as she is.

Across the mat from them stand their rivals. At the moment, Sheila is flexing and posing proudly, drawing some admiring comments from their friends, and Sylvia is fondy rubbing and caressing her mother's muscles all over, while casting glances their way -- probably gauging their emotional state.

"How are you feeling, Mom?" Dahlia whispers into her mother's ear, while nuzzling her neck.

"My heart is pounding," Camellia whispers back. "My hands feel cold. My legs feel soft and weak. Dahlia... darling... what if..."

Camellia's composure is legendary, and it pains Dahlia so much to see it cracking now. Even her strong Muscle Mom has moments of weakness. Camellia needs her Dahlia's strength joined to hers, now more than ever. She takes her mother's hands and stands close, face to face, chest to chest.

"I'll be cheering for you every moment. I know you have what it takes to win, to beat her. I'm in your corner forever, Mom. I love you forever. No matter what happens, we'll face it together. You're my strong, powerful Muscle Mom. We can do it. Together."

"Together. We're strong together," Camellia murmurs, as their lips brush. They start kissing.

"Strong together," Dahlia moans as their kissing grows more passionate.

Meanwhile, Sylvia has one hand firmly against her mother's crotch and is rubbing away as Sheila stands in a powerful double-biceps stance. Sheila's lips are parted as her daughter gives her this last boost before the arm wrestling to determine who the referee will be. She is gazing over at Camellia and Dahlia with slightly glazed eyes. Sylvia's voice carries over. "Crush them, Mom. Dominate them. You're the best. You're so much better. You'll crush her and make her beg, while Dahlia watches and cries."

"And after I make her submit..." Sheila says, sounding a little breathless, "Dahlia is yours, honey, to play with." They can be heard from across the mat -- the room is not that large, about the size of a dance studio.

"I can't wait," Sylvia chuckles, her hand working away wetly at her mother's pussy.

As Camellia and Dahlia embrace, Camellia slides one hand beneath her daughter's boy shorts and begins rubbing her slit, spreading the moistness over her fingertips and pressing on Dahlia's clitoris. Dahlia grunts softly with pleasure. She raises her right arm and flexes it, to warm up her muscles. Sheila and Sylvia have begun doing likewise.

"She's got quite an arm on her," one of the older women remarks, strawberry blonde with wavy hair and a lush figure. She is gently rubbing herself while reclining in the chair -- beside her, on the floor, lie several sex toys. They've all brought their own with them, and all are in various states of undress. The woman was referring to Dahlia, while addressing Sheila. "Looks like she could put up quite the fight against your girl."

"I'll crush her in seconds," Sylvia responds, her muscles rippling powerfully as she flexes her arm.

"Yeah, I believe it," one of the younger girls pipes up -- Dahlia's seen her before on the college grounds, but never with Sylvia. Korean, with long dark hair framing a pale face, and a stocky physique like a weightlifter or wrestler. "She's got good muscle tone, but she doesn't have the mass or weight."

The others nod sagely. "This isn't a professional arm wrestling match," another chuckles. "This is just a straight out muscle tussle. I'm gonna have to give this one to Sylvia." A chorus of agreement.

Dahlia feels her face flush with displeasure. Quite apart from being talked about as if she weren't there, she hates that they are all figuring the odds this way. She forces herself to breathe deeply and slowly, allowing the pleasure that her mother is giving her to radiate throughout her body and into her muscles. She has to prove them wrong now. She has to!

Presently, Sylvia rises to her feet, flushed a splotchy red all the way down to her nipples. The veins on her muscles are standing out. Sheila gives her one more slap on the butt to send her out to the middle of the mat.

Dahlia also rises, and Camellia reluctantly takes her hand out of Dahlia's shorts. Dahlia is dripping wet and throbbing, at a very high plateau. This is the best she can do for her daughter. The rest is up to her. Dahlia's muscles are also looking pumped, and her body glistens with a light sheen of sweat. A light hint of veins can be seen at her joints, especially her shoulders and elbows.

They walk slowly to the middle of the mat, still with right arms flexed. The room goes silent. When they are near face to face, they silently lower themselves and go belly-down on the mat, putting their left hands on the small of their back. To make doubly sure that this will be a true test of arm muscle, they have agreed to do the match this way. It will be hard to gain any significant leverage or body weight advantage.

Their arms wrap around each other, elbows close together, forearms pressed together tightly, fingers and thumbs so firmly locked that their hands are already trembling from the strain. Now everyone can see that Sylvia's arm is indeed the larger and more defined, overall the more impressive for sure, with clear evidence of steroid use... but Dahlia's arm looks extremely strong. Privately, the watchers begin to doubt their earlier assessment.

But outwardly, they begin clapping and cheering for their chosen champion, Sylvia Steele. "Let's go, Sylvia!" "Crush her like you said!" "Slam her down!" "Make her run back crying to her momma!"

Sylvia fixes her rival with a steely gaze. Dahlia stares back steadily, not giving an inch.

Their muscles bulge harder and harder. They have already begun.

And quietly, while every single pair of eyes in the room is fixed on the two perfectly muscled arms locked in womanly struggle, one of the women discreetly thumbs a remote control behind her back, and something hums into life...

Excellent. The story as always is well written and the tension increases. It seems clear to me that the two "good girls" try to mask their fears and insecurities. Especially the mother. They know they are strong, but they also know that they cannot compete in pure physical power against such large rivals. I really like this aspect of the story. I think they will suffer two disastrous defeats, but who knows. We will see.

It doesn't seem like I can create a poll and put it here in a post... otherwise I'd be asking for readers to vote on outcomes. :p

---

A smattering of cheering begins. All of it is for Sylvia. "Come on, girl, take her down! Show her who's boss! Flex them guns, girl!"

Sheila crosses her arms across her thickly muscled chest and beams, glancing around the circle at their friends and supporters. Home turf advantage! The psychological edge surely doesn't hurt. Her heart fills with maternal pride as she looks down at her daughter's thick, ridged back and shoulders. Incredible muscle development for a woman so young. Just a few more years, she thinks, and Sylvia will be thicker and stronger than me! She doesn't intend to give up her throne easily, though -- Sylvia is going to have to work for it. Yet she has no doubt, looking at Sylvia's physique, that her daughter will prove to be even stronger and more dominant than Sheila herself.

Camellia gnaws her lower lip as she watches the two girls struggle on the mat and listens to the cheering. She calls out some support of her own, conscious of how solitary her voice is in the chorus. Should they have brought some friends of their own to this contest? But unlike the Steeles, Camellia and Dahlia have never included anyone else in their sex life. It looks as though the Steeles regularly use this basement for parties -- orgies --- like this one. Certainly the other women look very much at ease, sitting and using their sex toys, looking at each other's devices without surprise and with a certain sense of familiarity. Were they all swingers here? Exhibitionists? Camellia has to put aside her personal unease to even be here, and she knows that Dahlia feels similarly. Would this chip away at her strength? Her back definition is superb... her beautiful muscles look incredibly strong...

But Camellia has to admit, Sylvia still has the greater bulk. That arm of hers... Camellia privately doubts if she could beat Sylvia herself in an arm wrestle. Now, to watch her own daughter straining against that powerful arm...

"Let's see... how strong you are... without your mom... diddling you... unh..." Sylvia grunts, her lips curling with contempt.

"Strong enough to... beat you... for her..." Dahlia grunts in reply.

Almost a full minute has passed. The daughters are still locked in arm to arm combat, their shaking and trembling arms still in the middle. Shoulders and biceps are fully flexed. The strain is visible in every line on their bodies. They still stare into each other's eyes, locked in a silent battle of wills. Every few seconds or so, Sylvia will give a loud grunt, and the battle will shift her way, with her gaining a slight advantage. But right after, Dahlia slowly fights back until they are even again.

Some of the spectators start calling for Sylvia to stop toying around with her opponent. They are convinced this is what she is doing. "We get it, Sylvia, you can make her suffer more later, we want your mom on that mat for the main fight, Sylvia!"

Across the mat, Sheila glowers. Her brow is furrowed.

Camellia suddenly realizes what's going on and her heart leaps. Her strong, darling daughter. "Dahlia! You can do it, darling! Take her down!" she yells suddenly. That look on Sylvia's face... in her eyes... she's fighting disbelief! Somehow... against the apparent odds... Dahlia is managing to hold her off, to match her strength for strength! This means... Dahlia has a real chance to win!

And then, for the first time... Dahlia's veined biceps give her the advantage. She pulls... and pulls... until they can all see, Sylvia is on the defensive!

Sylvia's teeth are bared. "Hrrngh! Hrrrrrnnngghh!" She scrunches her eyes shut and pulls back with all her might. "Hrrraaagh!"

Dahlia has to give way -- the surge is too great -- now Dahlia is the one on the defensive. Their arms tremble even more violently than before. Dahlia gathers herself and flexes as powerfully as she can.... and now she's the one with the upper hand again!

"Nnnnghh... no... you... aargh... fuck... gnnnn..." Sylvia shakes all over with exertion as she flexes her arm as hard as she possibly can. Flecks of spittle fly out from between her clenched teeth. She cannot believe, literally cannot believe, how strong Dahlia's arm feels.

Dahlia's eyes are squeezed shut. She doesn't need to see Sylvia's muscles or face. She doesn't need to listen to the crowd cheering for Sylvia and insulting her. All she needs is her mom, right there. The source of all her strength. The love of her life. She will not let this mean, spiteful bitch be the referee for the most important fight of Camellia's life, the last defining fight Camellia will be in against Sheila Steele. She won't let it happen. She is Camellia's proud daughter, she has her mother's muscles, and she will be as strong as she needs to be for her mother.

Steadily, she pulls Sylvia's arm down, down, down... so much resistance, Sylvia is so strong... but she is stronger... she's doing it for her mother, who's right there beside her, all the love and encouragement of a lifetime flowing from her mother into her...

The air is now filled with raucous shouting now, the audience still on Sylvia's side but yelling at her to stop screwing around and pull back up. Sylvia is now barely a couple of inches from losing. On the very verge of defeat! Several of them seem to be enjoying the sight of Sylvia's desperate straining, though, vibrators pressed firmly against their clits while their mouths open slackly as they watch. Camellia is on her hands and knees beside her daughter, urging her on to even greater efforts. Sheila has stepped in closer with a scowl, incredulously demanding why Sylvia is losing. "Pull, dammit! Pull harder!"

And in all of this, no one notices one of the women quietly thumbing a small remote control device... no one hears the intensifying humming coming from somewhere inside Sylvia's body... inside her crotch, beneath her boy shorts... inside her pussy...

The only thing they see is how Sylvia's flushed, crimson face contorts as she strains with all her might not to let Dahlia win... Dahlia's face a rictus of exertion as she struggles to pull Sylvia down just that one final inch, one more push, so close, just a little bit more...

And then... they see Sylvia pull Dahlia back up a little, just a little... and then a little more...

Damn another awesome cliff hanger! Haha. Turning out to be another Katietay coup de grace! As always Katie this is amazing to follow. Anxiously awaiting the next part! ????????????

In her heart of hearts, Sylvia feels the simmering anger: somehow, Dahlia is the stronger daughter. She knows she looks bad in front of her family's friends right now. She's bigger, with thicker muscle mass, visibly on steroids, lifts heavier weights... and yet, every time she and Dahlia lock arms across the table, she ends up losing! When she feels Dahlia's arm strength, it always feels as though Dahlia is stronger than even the men Sylvia has trained and practiced with... and she just can't figure out why!

She was resentful earlier when her mother insisted on slipping the vibrator into her... but now she has no choice but to accept the truth: she has to cheat to beat Dahlia. It's as though there's an invisible conduit between Dahlia and her snooty mother, and strength just keeps flowing into Dahlia's muscles. Not for the first time, she wishes she and her own mother had something like that going. But no, she has to rely on tricks like this, with her friend and occasional fuck-buddy Florence discreetly fiddling with the controls.

The power has been dialled up to maximum. And yet she's barely holding Dahlia off. Any moment now, her muscles might fail and she might lose. If Dahlia somehow manages another surge of power, that'd be it, she can't withstand that.

But it seems to be working. New strength thrums through her entire body, radiating out from inside her pussy. The buzzing is too quiet to be heard by anyone, but Sylvia can definitely feel it, pressed right up against her G-spot, sending ripple after ripple of stimulation through her, negating her fatigue, allowing her to keep holding Dahlia off.

And now poor Dahlia is finally beginning to tire. Her face shows incredible strain, just like it did during their last sexfight. Dahlia had won that one through sheer stubbornness. But through their clasped and shaking hands, Sylvia can feel it... bit by bit, Dahlia's strength is flagging.

Sylvia's biceps contract, pulling her hand up another inch. The tide has turned. Dahlia is trying with all her might to keep pouring on the pressure, but she's at her limit. It's not enough. Her opponent seems indefatigable.

The brave young woman despairs. After all her effort... despite her utmost efforts... she's still not strong enough to beat Sylvia. She remembers their first public arm wrestling match, seemingly so long ago. The same thing had happened: she'd almost won, but somehow Sylvia had rallied. I'm sorry, Mom, she weeps silently inside her own head as their trembling arms slowly move back up to the middle. I've failed you. I can't do this.

Sylvia's panting and moaning sounds almost orgasmic now, and her face shows unholy glee as she slowly curls Dahlia's hand over and back, gaining the advantage. Dahlia is now on the defensive, and completely drained. She opens her eyes again, and stares hopelessly into Sylvia's own, trying to muster all her reserves. She can feel it in her bones and tendons: she cannot win.

She makes Sylvia fight and struggle for every single inch, but inexorably their arms go down lower, and lower... the spittle flying from Sylvia's lips land on Dahlia's mouth, their faces are so close together... until finally, with a last sob, Dahlia feels her strength give out. Her hand goes down, with Sylvia's on top. She has lost. Sylvia wins. Sylvia will referee the match.

To cheering, whooping and applause, Sheila steps forward and proudly raises Sylvia's veined, swollen arm in the air, beaming from ear to ear. Sylvia is still shaking all over, but she casts a look of triumph down at Dahlia, who is wiping tears away, and at Camellia who looks completely heartbroken, and basks in the admiration of her powerful physique, and her dominating victory.

This needs to be turned off now, though. Florence, turn it off, damn you.

The buzzing continues. Her head swims. Her legs tremble visibly. She's still cumming. She started cumming from when she first started pulling Dahlia over the top, and it has been a good few minutes since. It's starting to feel extremely uncomfortable.

She blinks the sweat away and catches Florence's eye, then waggles her eyebrows furiously. Turn the fucking thing off!

Florence is looking a bit anxious. Her arm dangles over the side of her chair as she fiddles some more with the remote control. She gives Sylvia a look, as if to say, What is it?

Shaking her head slightly, Sylvia tries to convey her predicament. It's still on! Turn it off!

And Florence seems to realize the situation. She holds up the device now, and frantically pushes on the dial. A look of horror crosses her face. She looks up and shakes her head at Sylvia. Malfunction!

"Honey? You ok? What's the matter?"

Everyone is looking at Sylvia oddly now. Sylvia still has her arms raised in the air, one arm held up by her mother, but she has gone knock-kneed. She is flushed down to the tops of her breasts, the veins on her neck and hips are bulging... she is shaking so violently it's as if she had a delirious fever, or a seizure.

"Does she need medical attention or something..." one of the women ventures.

"Aargh... aahhhhhh!" Sylvia can't take it anymore. She yanks her arm free of her mother's grasp, yanks off her boy shorts, and cups her hands at her pussy.

In full view of everyone, as though she were laying an egg, she squeezes the furiously buzzing vibrator out of her pussy and into her palms.

There is a long, long moment of dead silence...

Sheila's face is as dark as a thundercloud.

Sylvia is kneeling at the edge of the mat, in between 2 of the spectators' chairs. Her wrists are cuffed to her ankles behind her. Her face is burning with shame. The two women to either side of her occasionally reach out and stroke her hair or face, or trace the lines of muscle on her thick, powerfully-built body. She squirms helplessly every time they do this.

The embarrassment is total! Everyone can say they've seen it for themselves now. In a straight contest of arm strength, without mothers helping, Dahlia outmuscles Sylvia! Sylvia cheated outrageously with that vibrator trick, and yet she found it an uphill struggle to put Dahlia's arm down.

As Camellia stands facing her much larger, heavier opponent, her heart races. She is so immensely proud of her daughter, who is now the referee and standing in between the fighters -- it was deemed unnecessary to do a rematch, and the audience were very vocal in saying so. They aren't as biased against the Kwans as all that, it would seem! Even if they are still friendlier with the Steeles, they seem to be according Dahlia at least some respect, looking at her muscled physique approvingly. This makes Camellia immensely, intensely proud.

Now she faces her own trial. The ultimate trial, the final battle between her and Sheila. Ever after, the winner of this match will be able to smile smugly and feel superior to the loser when they see each other. The loser will have to look away, humbled in her heart, remembering how her body was subdued by her rival's. Which daughter could be proud of a mother who had to do that with another woman? Camellia desperately wants her daughter to stay proud of her. Oh, of course she trusts and believes Dahlia's daughterly devotion, of course Dahlia means it when she says she will always love her mother most in the world... but she wants Dahlia to be proud of her. When they look into each other's eyes at night, she wants Dahlia to see a woman who won the most important battle of her life... not a loser.

"Now, I want a good, fair fight," Dahlia says emphatically, casting a meaningful glare at Sheila, who glowers back silently. As Dahlia continues listing the various actions that would be infractions, Camellia mentally reviews the rules. There are, in fact, very few. No eye-gouging, no hair-pulling, no biting... but almost everything else has been agreed upon. Small-joint manipulation -- yes. Brawling, street-fighting moves -- yes. Chokeholds... yes. Outright strangling, no, but chokeholds are not barred in this fight. Clawing or scratching has never been either woman's style, but is not going to be illegal. These terms have been reviewed and mutually agreed upon. Dahlia cannot stop the fight if Sheila makes her mother bleed. She can only hope her mother is strong enough to tough it out and fight back.

"And if you try any cheating, Sheila?" Dahlia says, when she finishes, "I'll be here to stop here."

Sheila sneers at her. "You know what, Dahlia," she says. "It's fine that you're standing here, instead of my girl. This just means you get to see me crush your precious mom to a pulp, right in front of your eyes. I'm going to lick the tears right off your face, Dahlia. When I'm standing over your broken and beaten mother, I want you to be the one raising my arm up high. I want to take you from behind, make you go on all fours and cry into your mother's face as I fuck you. I want her to see for herself how much pleasure you're getting from me, the stronger woman, the better mother."

"That will never fucking happen," Dahlia says, her voice tight with anger. "My mom's too strong for you."

"We'll see about that now. You ready, Camellia?" Sheila grins, and puts her dukes up.

It seems she wants to start with boxing or brawling. Camellia bunches her fists and puts her arms up in a rudimentary guard, just like she's practiced with her daughter. A shiver runs through her. This is happening! An actual fight with Sheila, with their daughters -- and everyone else -- watching!

Dahlia takes one step back, hesitates, then quickly moves in and cups her mother's head, drawing her in for one more fierce kiss. This draws titters and some comments, but the Kwans ignore all that. Dahlia's tongue swirling against her own feels so good. Her daughter is kissing so hard that it's as though she wants to merge their faces... or perhaps, transfer some of her own magnificent strength to her mother.

Then Dahlia steps back, and Camellia once again focuses her attention on her scowling nemesis. Dahlia's hand goes up in between them... and chops down. "Fight!"

And just like that, all the training they've done, all the moves and stances they've practiced, all of that goes out the window. A real fight is nothing like practicing jab-jab-cross or the good ol' one-two combo with someone holding training pads. Sheila throws a punch, then another, her big ham fists flailing out, powered by muscled arms and shoulders, and Camellia can do nothing but flinch and jerk her upper body away instinctively, her own leaner, slimmer arms flailing back, trying to make her fists connect with something while shying away from Sheila's own fists. She is not a trained fighter; footwork does not come naturally to her; she is only half aware of how she's backpedalling, backing away, trying not to get hit, while Sheila roars inchoately and swings wildly at her, striking her forearms and upper arms mostly but coming dangerously close to her face...

And then she is stumbling over one of the women, a heavily-built brown-skinned Filipina -- they've actually met somewhere else before, Camellia dimly recalls her name as Maria Constanza or something along those lines -- and the chair tips over, while Maria cries out in outraged astonishment, and Sheila is turning away, arms raised in victory, laughing and punching the air while her friends whoop and clap. Sylvia on her knees is smiling. "Wooooo! You go, Mom! She can't take you! She's not woman enough to take you!" she screams.

Dahlia helps her mother disentangle her limbs from Maria's, who is cursing and swearing colorfully as she clambers to her feet and rights her chair. "You made me spill my lube!" she complains. The woman to the left of her generously hands her a spare bottle. "Does a ring-out count?" Maria calls out.

"Naw!" comes Sheila's quick reply. "It'd be over too quick! I'm here to pummel her, not push her out! This ain't sumo!" A gust of good-natured guffawing follows her words.

Dahlia leads a shaken Camellia back to the center of the ring, squeezing her hand in silent encouragement. "You got this, Mom. I know you can do it," she hurriedly whispers, before starting them off again.

Once again, Sheila comes in with a barrage of clumsy blows, but Camellia isn't skilled enough to duck or parry or counter or indeed, do anything except put her head down behind her forearms and try to guard herself. The blows land, some of them glancing off the sides of her face, near her ears, and she tries to move away, get some space between the punching behemoth that is Sheila Steele. Their weight disparity is really telling. Training with Dahlia hasn't really prepared her enough for this.

She knows she can't just hunker down and slowly get battered down. She has got to strike back, somehow, despite the impacts on her head, forearms, shoulders... and then suddenly Sheila's fist is flashing up towards her face from below, an uppercut, and she can't react in time... The blow lands on her chin and knocks her head upwards -- she sees stars for a second, then the lights on the ceiling, then a moment of stunned disorientation before she feels something collide with her left cheek.

Down she goes, although she realizes it only when she is down on the mat, trying to push herself upright. Dahlia is interposing herself between her fallen mother and her relentless opponent, who is shoving her out of the way. "This isn't boxing!" Sheila is saying angrily. "This is a fight! I don't have to wait for her to get up!"

Unfortunately... this is true. And Dahlia has no choice but to back away, face set in helpless anger, as Sheila begins to mount Camellia's body...

More out of instinct than anything, Camellia draws in her legs, and manages to brace her feet against Sheila's abdomen. She thrusts, and Sheila flies back, a look of surprise on her face, to land in a heap a few feet away, almost at the edge of the mat. She's won some breathing space for herself, and they both clamber to their feet. She can feel the stinging, throbbing pain where Sheila's blows landed, and she knows that pretty soon there will be some visible swelling and bruising on her face. At least nothing feels broken...

She can't prevail in a boxing match, she realizes with a sinking heart. She is no pugilist. She can't match Sheila punch for punch. She'd go down like a sack of rice within seconds.

Kickboxing? That takes skill, skill she doesn't have. She can't land kicks that are impactful enough, not and maintain her balance -- she and Dahlia have tried. That just leaves... grappling.

Sheila is coming in again, hard and fast, moving more confidently now and more like an actual boxer. Camellia backs away, trying to maintain good footwork, to dodge and block. It's like a cat-and-mouse game now, and Sheila is beginning to toy with her, herding her in a circle around the mat.

With the taunts of the watching women in her ears, Camellia goes low and launches herself at one of Sheila's thunder thighs. Perhaps a single-leg takedown...

But Sheila immediately sprawls. They've practiced with each other, the Steeles... and trained with men as well. And moreover, Sheila most likely anticipated this. As Camellia uselessly clutches at Sheila's right leg, Sheila regains her balance and begins hammering down on Camellia's exposed back, right in front of a frantic Dahlia.

Camellia feels the breath being pounded out of her. She momentarily loses her grip, and now it is Sheila's turn to get a good grip on her, wrapping her arms around Camellia's waist from above and behind...

What can she do now? How is she supposed to fight against a woman 10kg heavier, with stronger muscles and more ferocity...?

Realizing she can't pull off the single-leg takedown, Camellia tries to regain a standing position. Her back has never been thumped like this before by closed fists – she feels as though each of Sheila's blows drives the air out of her lungs. But her adrenaline surges, and she straightens up, making a grab for each of Sheila's forearms.

They grapple breathlessly, huffing and grunting into each other's ears as they stumble around the mat in small circles. Sheila is practically driving the smaller and lighter Camellia around; Camellia's feet scuff against the mat as she tries to get more purchase. Before too long, Sheila wrenches her right arm free of Camellia's grip, and immediately she slams a close-range uppercut into Camellia's side.

"Unff!" Camellia reflexively tightens her core. Her left hand clutches uselessly at Sheila's biceps – so discouragingly big and hard. Sheila gets another strong punch in before Camellia manages to jerk her right forearm out of Sheila's grip. Immediately Sheila grabs and holds Camellia's biceps, her fingers and thumb digging in painfully.

Pressing their foreheads together, the two women wordlessly begin a pounding slugfest contest, throwing simultaneous uppercuts into each other's midriffs, using their left arms to try and dampen the force of each other's punches.

"Unh... unh... unh... unh..."

Punch after meaty punch slams into flexed abdominal muscle, with a steady rhythm. Each woman's breath is driven out of her mouth at the same time, so that they are practically breathing on each other's lips.

Dahlia watches this nail-biting contest with a sinking heart. She can see how her beloved muscle mom, ever the underdog, slowly starts to lose this contest from the outset. Sheila got in two solid punches before they started trading blows; Sheila's abs are a ridged mass of muscle, thicker and harder than Camellia's chiseled and toned belly; Camellia's punches land less hard than Sheila's because of their left arms. It is all Camellia can do to keep punching at a sustained pace, with Sheila subduing her right arm.

Before Dahlia's loving and tearful eyes, Camellia gradually loses ground. With each blow from Sheila she loses more air and energy. Her own punches get weaker, and weaker... then slower... until she is matching Sheila for only every other uppercut. Her trembling body starts to sag.

All this time, Sheila is staring into her eyes, drinking in her rival's pain and exhaustion, gloating with delight at the growing desperation in Camellia's glazed eyes, grinning to see the small trickle of drool coming out one corner of Camellia's parted lips.

Then it happens... Camellia's right arm swings, slows... and stops, held in place by Sheila's strong grip. The punch fails to land. Meanwhile, though, Sheila's right arm swings like a piston, thudding heavily into Camellia's abs. Camellia gags audibly. "Urrkh..."

Sheila pulls her arm back, with Camellia unable to stop her movement at all, and delivers another uppercut to the same spot.

"Urrkh..."

With slow deliberation, Sheila cocks her arm again, staring deeply into Camellia's watery eyes and breathing heavily. Camellia's shaking left arm flexes, in vain. Her right arm is pinned firmly in place. All she can do is tense her aching abs as hard as they can go, to withstand the next blow. Sheila's arm bunches up, and slams home.

"Acckk..."

Camellia begins coughing and gagging. Sheila releases her, and she slowly folds, doubling over in slow motion while clutching at her belly. Her legs tremble, barely keeping her upright. Sheila turns away and raises her arms up high to wild applause and cheering. Sweat streaks her triumphant body. Her awesomely muscled belly ripples as she catches her breath. There are red patches on both women's abdominal muscles, but Sheila seems not to feel the pain as she does a slow victory lap, pausing in front of her chained but smiling daughter to do some sensual flexing.

Dahlia puts her arms bracingly around her mother's trembling shoulders. "Mom... Mom, are you okay?" she whispers tremulously.

Blinking tears furiously out of her eyes and sucking in air with tortured gasps, Camellia can only give a few vigorous nods in reply. Her cheeks burn with shame at losing this test of strength and endurance. Not only her daughter watching, but all these women as well...!

And then all too soon, Sheila is in front of her again, rudely shoving Dahlia aside and wrapping her massive arms around Camellia's torso. Camellia has no time to react or counter before she is caught up in a crushing bearhug. Sheila manages to lift her up slightly off her feet, so she is standing on tiptoes while pushing uselessly at Sheila's shoulders.

Sheila's arms flex, and Camellia throws her head back, her world disappearing into a red cloud of agony. So much crushing pressure...! Now she has to flex her entire core, and keep every muscle flexed just to resist Sheila's sheer force. She grabs Sheila's elbows, but Sheila has already locked her grip tightly behind Camellia's back. She knows she wouldn't be strong enough to break it with arm strength anyway.

All she can do is endure this bearhug, pushing and slapping ineffectually at Sheila's rock-hard shoulders. Her entire front is being mashed against Sheila's. The memory returns to her: their first wrestling match, when Sheila had pushed her up against the turnbuckle, and then squashed her breasts and nipples with her own, right under Dahlia's eyes. The ultimate victory one mother can achieve over another. And now, with her entire body being crushed against... crushed by Sheila's, while Dahlia can only watch helplessly...

Sheila brings her face closer to Camellia's, licking her lips, loving the hot breath of her red-faced opponent against her own mouth. She has never felt more delighted with life, more thrilled. This is almost everything she could have asked for, everything she had ever wanted. Her friends and admirers... she knows they are false friends, but as long as they are impressed with her alpha-ness she can lean on them for things. Her daughter... that had been shameful and embarrassing, but it was her own fault, Sylvia should really have endured that better. And besides... Sylvia shouldn't have lost.

But here and now, she, Sheila Steele, is dominating her lifelong rival in every single way. Her physical superiority is plain to be seen. The elegant, beautiful Camellia Kwan, squirming in agony against her skin, trapped in her powerful arms, crying out weakly in pain, eyes tearing up and starting to glaze over... and is that drool starting to come out of the corner...?

Sheila moans with pleasure as she leans forward, sticks out her tongue, and licks the trickle of drool off Camellia's lips. The outrage and humiliation in Camellia's eyes sends a new thrill through Sheila. Sheila follows up with smooches on Camellia's eyes, sucking up the tears of pain that have emerged. And Camellia can do nothing about any of this. Sheila is almost delirious with pleasure. She presses her lips firmly against Camellia's, then opens her mouth wider to cover her more completely. Camellia thrashes about weakly, but cannot escape the lip-locking.

Then Sheila pulses her muscles convulsively. Camellia goes goggle-eyed. The breath escapes her lungs, her mouth in a whoosh... and Sheila greedily sucks it up. She squeezes again. And again. Each surge of strength sends a fresh jolt through Camellia's tortured body, and forces Camellia's diaphragm to contract, sending air out of her lungs into Sheila's own. She is literally sucking the oxygen right out of her rival.

Camellia's struggles are growing steadily weaker. She is starting to go limp. Her eyes are rolling upwards. Soon... soon, she will break Camellia Kwan. Soon, her hated rival will moan out her submission while Dahlia weeps, and then Dahlia will be forced to raise Sheila's arm in victory.

"Your daughter's pussy," she whispers, against Camellia's lips. "It's gonna be mine. I'll fuck it until she passes out from cumming, then give her to my girl. Your girl will belong to us. You'll both be our sex slaves. Because I'm stronger than you, Camellia. I'm the stronger and better woman!"

Something flares in Camellia's eyes at these words. Insults to herself, she can bear. Physical punishment for losing, she can endure. But the thought of her precious Dahlia at their tender mercies...

Despite the burning in her almost-empty lungs, despite the frantic thudding of her overworked heart, despite the agony of her nearly-obliterated abs and lower back, Camellia digs deep, deeper than she ever has, and finds new strength within herself from somewhere. She will not let this happen to Dalia.

She takes firm hold of Sheila's forearms. In response, Sheila tightens them even more. Her arms are like a massive steel band around her waist, constricting and squeezing. But Camellia's shoulders and arms go taut, every line of muscle standing out sharply. Her fingers and thumbs press against the cords of Sheila's forearm muscles, near the elbow joint. She is not trying to force Sheila's arms apart – Sheila is gripping her own forearms, thoroughly locking in the bearhug. No... she is going to use her grip strength to try and escape.

This is her last technique she can try to escape the crushing bearhug. If she fails, she will pass out.

"Go, Mom, go!" Dahlia is crying out, a lone voice of support amid the chorus of cheering for Sheila. She is standing close, watching everything, missing nothing, seeing every tremor of fatigue and pain that passes through her mother's muscles, seeing the manifest power thrumming through Sheila's bulging arms and shoulders, seeing her mother's crimson face getting redder. She can almost feel every bit of heart-wrenching suffering her mother is being put through.

Can her brave muscle mom do it? Can she break out of this bearhug by forcing Sheila to break her grip? Is her grip strength right now enough to overcome Sheila's pain tolerance? Does she have enough gas in the tank, enough air in the lungs, to prevail?

I'm a simple woman, I see katietay has posted more of a story and I gotta read!

I hope you all do like this :) I know my stuff is rather niche. This match is reaching its conclusion at last, and I was wondering if there'd be enough readers to poll... lol.

Phew, the build-up to the conclusion is so hawt ... can't wait to see if it delivers as much as it promises!  ;D ;) :-*

Even though she is on her knees, with her wrists humiliatingly cuffed to her ankles behind her, body completely exposed, Sylvia is feeling pretty good. She squirms and clenches her pussy muscles, wishing she could free her hands and get herself off. The sight in front of her is just glorious. This is everything she and her mom have fantasized about. It's all going as well as they could have hoped for.

Poor Dahlia. Always doomed to see her mother lose and get dominated. Sylvia has honestly forgotten why their families are feuding in the first place. Something about their mothers' days in school and university, something about Sheila somehow always feeling put down even though Camellia never intended it. It honestly doesn't matter at this point; it's just plain enjoyable to have rivals to wrestle and dominate. And it's just plain sweet to see the tears flow down Dahlia's cheeks, to see her rival distraught and frantic, to see that strong beautiful spirit slowly wilt and crumble away as she watches her mother lose to Sylvia's.

It still gnaws at her, the fact that she herself can't seem to beat Dahlia decisively. She sometimes still wakes up in the middle of the night from a dream about Dahlia, close to orgasm from a weird admixture of rage and arousal. But right now, Sheila is dominating Camellia. Everything is going their way. Her pussy is sopping wet and leaking onto her inner thighs. Life is good.

"Prepare to get your pussy pounded, Dahlia darling!" she yells, cacking with glee. "Crush her, Mom! She's putty in your hands! Knock her out!"

Sheila is a hunk of maternal muscle, looking almost as though she is engulfing Camellia's less-muscular form. All that work Camellia must've put in to overcome her genetic inferiority... all useless, Sylvia thinks smugly. Those strong-looking shoulders, that V-tapered torso, those sleek thighs... not enough to beat big, mighty Sheila Steele.

And that "kiss of death"...! A very nice touch – and it is Sylvia's own idea! During one of their bearhug contests, Sylvia found herself unable to resist and french-kissed her mother passionately. But then as she held the kiss, she realized both of them were finding it harder to breathe. Sheila is now using that discovery to her advantage – when they do it like this, the stronger woman gets to have air in her lungs, as is only right!

She continues watching the struggle avidly, her breathing ragged from arousal. All around her, the spectators are sweating and moaning, and the air is filled with the aroma of pussy juice. Camellia is now trembling and shaking like a leaf all over. Every muscle on her body has been fully flexed for quite a few minutes now. She has got to be near her limit. That abdominal wall of hers must be nearly crumbling to nothing by now.

Then Sylvia sees something that causes her brow to furrow slightly. Her gaze is drawn to Camellia's lower back. Sheila's massive veiny arms are clasped tightly around it. She is gripping her own forearms in a secure vise-like lock. Camellia's fingers are digging into them, near the elbows. They've been posed like this for quite some time now, without any movement except for Camellia's constant, violent trembling and Sheila occasionally shifting her feet.

But Sylvia's eyes flick up to her mother's red, sweaty face, and she listens closely to Sheila's muffled grunts. She knows her mom's body better than anyone, except maybe their gynecologist.

No... no, no, no. This can't be happening. This is impossible!

Almost imperceptibly... millimeter by millimeter... Camellia is loosening Sheila's grip!

As she gapes incredulously, she cannot help thinking... a mother's arms can be incredibly strong when protecting her daughter...

Camellia can feel her blood whooshing and pulsing in her ears. Her vision swims – all she can see is the pores on Sheila's sweat-streaked face, anyway. It feels like an eternity since her lungs have received a full load of air. Her lips are sore and numb from being pressed against Sheila's. She has been running on empty for quite a while already. Her arm and shoulder muscles are burning with lactic acid, crying out for respite. Her abs... she can barely continue keeping them tensed up.

But she keeps hearing those words echo in her ears... fuck your daughter's pussy... pound her pussy... sex slaves...

She won't let that happen. She won't let these two touch her Dahlia. It doesn't matter that Dahlia willingly agreed to this – she is Dahlia's mother and protector.

Her fingers dig in, pressing on tendons she knows are there somewhere – she's not a professional chiropractor, but she and Dahlia have given each other enough deep-bone massages over the years. Sheila's formidable forearm muscles are hard to get through, but the pressure points are there underneath. She just has to keep pressing hard enough, maintain the pressure.

When it comes, it comes suddenly.

"Gahhhhh!" Sheila breaks the lip-lock and throws her head back, uttering a strangely weak guttural cry, the kind of cry a woman produces when training to failure while doing squats. Her arms come apart to either side, pushed out by Camellia.

"Haaahhhh..." Camellia's moan of sheer relief is high-pitched and tremulous. She greedily gulps air into her starving lungs. Sweet oxygen...! And finally, some reprieve for her tortured abs...!

Both women sag, with Camellia still holding onto Sheila's forearms, but feebly now – she can no longer apply any more crushing pressure. She has genuinely reached her limit of arm strength.

But Sheila's trembling arms hang loose and slack, too. They stare into each other's eyes again, huffing and swaying, both of them blinking away tears and sweat as they try to catch their breath and wait for energy to come trickling back.

Cries of shock and excitement can be heard all around. The impossible has happened! Camellia has broken out of Sheila's bearhug with arm strength alone! Can she really take anything Sheila throws at her?

But Sheila still has the upper hand. She has barely been injured this whole match, and her strength returns swiftly. While Camellia is still drawing painful sobbing breaths, Sheila wrenches her arms free and grips Camellia's shoulders.

"We're not wrestling..." she growls. "We're not boxing... we're fighting!"

And with that, she draws her head back and slams it against Camellia's forehead.

The smack of the headbutt is audible and resounds around the room. Everyone sees Camellia's head knocked backwards by the force of the blow. Dahlia utters a choked scream of shock and dismay. Even Sylvia gasps.

Camellia remains upright but unsteady. Her head lolls about and she blinks slowly. Sheila begins to chuckle breathlessly.

"I'm the stronger and better woman, Camellia. The sexier mother!" She draws her head back for another headbutt.

Camellia's hands fly up and grab Sheila's shoulders. Her body suddenly tenses up. Her neck muscles flex, and her head shoots forward and up just as Sheila's head comes in.

Crack!

There is a spray of blood. Splattering everywhere. Both women stagger backwards, relinquishing their grips on each other's shoulders. Their faces and upper torsos are now speckled with fresh crimson.

"Holy fuck," someone yells, a cry quickly echoed by the other watchers.

Dahlia's horrified gaze is fixed on her staggering, swaying mother.

What just happened?

Every breath is agony for Camellia, and sends fresh spasms of pain through her entire midriff. Sheila is so strong that her crushing bearhug may have bruised or even cracked a rib. Her head is swimming, and she is still seeing stars. Her arms and shoulders are numb with fatigue, and hang limply by her sides.

But across from her, her opponent's face is a horrific bloody mess. Blood streams out from Sheila's nostrils over the lower half of her face. She is holding her hands up to her face, making a weird "guh... guh" sound repeatedly, and breathing only through her mouth.

Dahlia has rushed to her side, panic written all over her face. "Mom...?" While Sylvia screams in rage from her kneeling position, and while the seated women are causing a tremendous uproar, Dahlia examines her wounded mother for any injuries.

"I'm... I'm fine, love," Camellia manages to say while panting. "I can still fight."

The relief washes over Dahlia's face in a palpable wave, though it doesn't entirely wash away the concern. But then she turns to look at Sheila, and she tenses up, visibly excited.

"Sheila Steele," she says, her voice ringing out over the hubbub. A hush follows, although it takes a few more moments for Sylvia to finish screaming whatever she was screaming, Camellia can't make out the words. "Can you continue?"

Only Sheila's heavy mouth-breathing can be heard in the sudden silence. Slowly, she removes her hands from her face. Her nose has been broken – it is visibly askew, and already there is a little swelling around the nose bridge. She glares at Dahlia with red-rimmed eyes.

"Yes!" she snaps.

"Fuck her up! Wreck her! Do it, Mom! Finish her!" Sylvia starts screaming wildly again.

In a moment, Sheila has closed the distance between them, and Camellia has to duck a wild haymaker. Every movement is painful, but she reflexively flinches away from the next wild punch, trying to bring her arms up to block. The punch clips her cheek. She lowers her head behind her guard, before she realizes that Sheila has moved quickly and is now behind her.

Sheila slips her arms underneath Camellia's armpits, trying to lock in a full nelson. Camellia tries to flail her way free, almost sobbing with the pain spreading throughout her torso – she won't be able to take another wrestling hold, she knows, and she can't last much longer before she collapses. She ducks left, and right, each movement sending agony through her body.

Then her elbow collides with something, and suddenly she is free. She turns, panting, and sees Sheila a few steps away, bent over double and clutching her face again. Did she strike Sheila's nose one more time...? Despite the fact that they are in this fight, Camellia cannot help but feel a sympathetic pang for her rival. A broken nose is no small matter, and Camellia really had not intended to cause that specific damage; she had only acted reflexively, returning the head butt...

With difficulty Sheila straightens, while Dahlia eagerly asks again if she can continue. Dahlia is clearly hoping that Sheila forfeits and submits, handing Camellia the long-awaited win. Sheila is clearly in excruciating pain now. Her tongue is lolling out of her mouth.

A cut! Small, but it's there – Dahlia has leaned in close to examine it, and declares that Sheila is now the possessor of a broken nose and cut tongue. Sheila's mouth is now dripping blood. "Do you submit! Can you continue!" she practically yells in Sheila's face.

"Fuck you, Dahlia! Come on, Mom! Keep going! She's almost done! Finish her!" Sylvia shrieks.

Sheila blinks. She grimaces. Her jaw works. Her entire lower face and her upper chest is now streaked with rivulets of crimson. A cut tongue and a broken nose are injuries that look a hell of a lot worse than they actually are, but right now Sheila looks gruesome.

She pushes Dahlia away with one hand. "I can fight!" she growls, her words slurred and a bit hard to make out.

Camellia and Sheila lock gazes, and Camellia's vision swims. She is almost knocked backwards by the animosity she sees on that bloodied visage. What has she ever done to earn such hatred, such resentment...? Is it her fault that now, she and her daughter are in this situation, and she has to fight like a savage just to keep her daughter from becoming their plaything?

She breaks her own reverie and castigates herself. Foolish thoughts! It is not her fault if Sheila Steele has decided that their families must be rivals! It is not her fault that both Sheila and Sylvia are bullies at heart, who like to humiliate those weaker than themselves! This fight was always going to be violent, but she has insisted that it is the last one, her last attempt to interpose her own body in front of Dahlia's, like a mother should. She has somehow managed to turn the tables, as bloody as the means seem to be – this may be the only way she can win!

She knows it probably is. She has been outmuscled, outfought and outwrestled from the very beginning.

There is only one thing left to do. One thing that a woman in her place must do.

Camellia steadies her breathing and squares her shoulders. Still holding Sheila's gaze, she braces her feet, raises her arms up high, and gracefully brings them down into the best double-biceps pose she can muster. The look of sheer delight on Dahlia's face warms her motherly heart.

Sheila's eyes widen incredulously. "You..."

"Let's finish this, Sheila. Woman to woman." Camellia opens her hands and holds them out, still keeping her muscles flexed. Her body trembles with fatigue and pain, but she puts it out of mind. There will be time to rest in Dahlia's loving arms later. Now, she must fight. A straight test of strength is her best chance. Her only chance, as slim as it may be. It is all she can try for.

Grinning despite the blood oozing out of her nose and mouth, Sheila draws herself up and pumps her arms in a powerful flex. The sheaths of muscle on her body ripple menacingly, the effect enhanced by the blood. "You're challenging me? To a test of strength? You know you can't outmuscle me, Camellia!"

"I have to try. I have to beat you." They're close enough now. Sheila opens her hands, mirroring Camellia's pose, and slowly they lace fingers while keeping their arms flexed. "I have to win."

"You're gonna lose." Specks of mixed spittle and blood land on Camellia's face as Sheila begins chuckling. "I'm gonna break you. Come on then, Camellia Kwan. Push as hard as you can!"

Their foreheads, nipples and thighs touch. Their muscles tense and bulge.

In front of their daughters, in front of the watching women around the room, the final test of womanly strength between Camellia Kwan and Sheila Steele begins.

And almost immediately, Camellia begins losing.

"Ungh... uggghh... aarggh..." Camellia finds herself grunting desperately. Sheila is bending her wrists back painfully, forcing her arms out and back at a disadvantageous angle. She expended all her arm strength just now when breaking Sheila's grip; her arm muscles now twinge with pain from over-exertion.

Then Sheila leans in even closer, so her whole body is now pushing against Camellia's. This is a true test of muscle now, one woman's entire body against the other's. And immediately Camellia's midsection throbs and pulses with agony as Sheila begins pushing, core flexing against core. Camellia's abs and lower back are over-taxed, and she simply cannot resist the wall of rippling muscle that is Sheila's abdomen.

It's over. I'm done. I can't beat her. She's just... too strong for me.

Like a tree bending in a gale, Camellia starts bending over backwards. Now Sheila is hulking and looming over her, laughing breathlessly, looking monstrous with the spittle and blood oozing out from between her teeth and lips, and her broken nose swelling up a little more. But her muscles are still so, so strong.

Dahlia is standing close by, in tears now. Her poor girl. "Come on, Mom," she begs. "Come on. You got this. You can do it. Fight, Mom, fight. You're stronger than her. Don't give up. Don't give up. You can do it."

But I can't. I'm just not strong enough after all. I'm sorry, baby, honey, darling. I'm sorry...

The crowd and Sylvia are enthralled by the spectacle. They are hooting, clapping, whooping, cheering. Someone starts a chant, and more join in. "Shei-LA! Shei-LA! Shei-LA!" The air now thrums with the buzzing of vibrators. Moans and gasps can be heard from almost every lip, in addition to the chant.

And Dahlia, darling Dahlia, starts a competing chant of her own. "Came-LLIA! Came-LLIA!"

"Hey, you're the referee, you're not supposed to cheer," someone calls out half-heartedly.

"Leave her alone, her mom's about to get crushed," someone else calls back, to a small chorus of agreement.

Camellia thrusts her left leg back to keep bracing her body. It is as if she is holding up a wall, if the wall were huffing in your face and dripping blood, saliva and snot onto your skin. Her core is flexed so tightly that any moment now it is going to give way. Her arm muscles are going to fail soon. She has gone beyond her limits. There is no strength left to dredge up from any reserve. Second wind, third wind, all used up.

She keeps pushing, keeps flexing. She has to keep on trying, until the bitter end...

The match goes on. And on. The dueling chants continue, until Dahlia is hoarse from trying to match the volume of about six or seven full-throated women, but then the chants for Sheila start to flag.

Sheila and Camellia are still posed, like artistic hyper-realistic statues – albeit shaking, trembling, sweating, straining, panting, grunting ones – with Camellia looking like Atlas attempting to carry the world, and Sheila looking like she is about to engulf her opponent. But they have not moved for over a minute now. Camellia is somehow still holding on... still hanging in there by a thread... refusing to lose just yet...

And then Dahlia, looking closely at the two wrestlers, forces herself to look at Sheila's face more closely, and her heart leaps. Sheila's eyes are glazed. Her tongue lolls, dripping blood onto Camellia's lips and chin. Little red bubbles at her nostrils expand and contract. Her throat works furiously, almost convulsing.

Sheila can't breathe properly. She is losing air. Her massive oxygen-guzzling muscles are losing fuel.

But Camellia is on her last legs. Has been for several long minutes now. Her mother is hanging on only by sheer willpower. For her sake. For Dahlia. Her eyes stare upwards sightlessly, not really seeing Sheila's face. She may fall unconscious any moment, and then... it will be over.

Whose body will give out first? Whose muscles will fail first? Which woman will outlast the other in this last, desperate contest?

---

POLL TIME!


Tell me what you think! Who wins? Who loses? Whose pussy does Dahlia eat? What happens to Sylvia?

Let's see Sheila lose since the lack of air is a good story reason for her to take the loss -- also it leaves the door open for a future fight with Camellia, their daughters, and perhaps the next generation.

Other than that, have Dhalia eat Sheila's pussy in recognition for the effort in the fight and maybe to make her regain consciousness after her air and blood loss.

And how about have Camellia trib the restrained Sylvia to get her winner's orgasm and get some retribution for cheating against her daughter earlier.

Camellia for sure wins this one. After all the Kwans have been through, she digs deeper than ever and comes through for the win!

Because I am a sucker for heels, I say Sheila wins. Makes Camellia watch her daughter eat her pussy. Sylvia gets to help her mom punish the loser.

So far that's 2 for Camellia, 1 for Sheila :)

I'll leave this open for a bit :p a bit busy these days anyway, final installment will take a while

As much as I love the Kwans, I kinda feel Sheila. Maybe Dahlia has to eat Sylvia's pussy while Sheila pounds her mom.

2 : 2! Man, this is neck and neck :p

I think Sheila comes out on top due to her viciousness but she gets carried away post fight and Dahlia jumps in and her and Camellia smother Sheila out

Camellia has the edge in both willpower and endurance conditioning to earn her the victory over Sheila in the final "test of strength" contest. Camellia for the win!!!
Dahlia will get to eat any pussy she wants and Sylvia will have to watch.  ;)

3 - 3! What a nail-biting contest :p

Oooh, I think I'd most love to see Camelia upset the stronger Sheila ... and both Sheila & Sylvia getting strap on fucked and having to eat out the Kwan's ... He! He!  :P ;D :-*

Sheila wins with the support from her gym friends and her overall might. Dahlia has to eat out her rival, Sylvia, while Sheila pounds Camellia to the cheers of the crowd.

4-4. Wow. What's gonna tip these scales?

https://www.pinterest.com/pin/gif--744290275930265979/

While Camellia's got spunk, I gotta say Sheila has the advantage in weight and muscle, and while spunk can be played up in movies, usually its the weight and muscle that win out. So Sheila wins. As for eating out, I think Dahlia has to eat out the winner. But all is not bad for the Kwans as I think Sylvia gets some punishment by the crowd for her earlier cheating.

5 : 4 in favor of Sheila... Camellia is starting to lose... I'll close the poll soon :p Who can hold out longer??

I'm conflicted... but I feel like with Dahlia proving herself the stronger daughter, it has to even out with Sheila proving herself the stronger mom. Not sure who Dahlia eats out though.

6 - 4... it's nearly the end...

I'll "close" this poll in about an hour and start writing. :p

A bit of bonus content before I put up the last installment: I finally managed to use tensor.art to get the four main women -- Sheila and Sylvia Steele, Camellia and Dahlia Kwan -- looking 95% the way I want them! Would still want smaller breasts, but well, the AI can't seem to understand that.

https://imgur.com/a/9K1dAs6

I can only see Sheila and Camellia but they look good! Though I always pictured Sheila with a little more of a belly but AI has its limits for sure

Quote from: RookieRylie on November 08, 2023, 09:48:54 PM
I can only see Sheila and Camellia but they look good! Though I always pictured Sheila with a little more of a belly but AI has its limits for sure

You're totally right! Sheila is supposed to be a bit tubbier around the waist. She eats greasy American burgers and all that :p

Hmm. Imgur wasn't behaving well. Let me see about it again.

Ok try this for Sylvia and Dahlia:

https://imgur.com/a/gLTVAO1

Ok, nvm, fuck this! Aaarggh

https://ibb.co/4Zr2QmZ
https://ibb.co/bWK2gw8
https://ibb.co/9Y5yrGD
https://ibb.co/NxSGcb5

Here, these should work!

Wow wow wow! You actually outdid yourself with this surprise! The models are on point and really put a face on the characters that I love! It actually make sense for Dahlia to win and Camellia to lose; Although I was team Camellia from the start

These new pics make me want to see ample future stories with Dhalia.

Quote from: MrMota on November 09, 2023, 01:43:10 PM
Wow wow wow! You actually outdid yourself with this surprise! The models are on point and really put a face on the characters that I love! It actually make sense for Dahlia to win and Camellia to lose; Although I was team Camellia from the start

Thanks so much for your kind words :) Well, I didn't do anything, it's AI graphics. Does Dahlia look stronger and tougher than Sylvia then? I actually would wish for Sylvia to be thicker around the shoulders and have more of a roided look, but well, the face at least is smug enough for me and she doesn't look small. I also want Sheila to have a thicker waistline and look meaner.

And of course, they should all have much smaller breasts. The AI really could not understand "flat-chested", "very small breasts", or even "no breasts". Dumb AI.

Quote from: katietay on November 09, 2023, 04:16:22 PM
Thanks so much for your kind words :) Well, I didn't do anything, it's AI graphics. Does Dahlia look stronger and tougher than Sylvia then? I actually would wish for Sylvia to be thicker around the shoulders and have more of a roided look, but well, the face at least is smug enough for me and she doesn't look small. I also want Sheila to have a thicker waistline and look meaner.

And of course, they should all have much smaller breasts. The AI really could not understand "flat-chested", "very small breasts", or even "no breasts". Dumb AI.

Don't sell yourself short, AI prompting to get an accurate result is a headache  :D ! Dahlia doesn't look stronger but the difference between the two is just enough that a burst of second win can help Dahlia win the fight, just like last time the two fought! But Sylvia got a young face, a young smug face that deserves some spanking ;) ! With those muscular bodies the breasts are not center of attention I'll tell you that  ;D

When the moment comes, it comes suddenly.

Camellia Kwan opens her mouth. A tiny whimper comes out, almost inaudible, but Dahlia is almost right beside her and hears the heartrending sound.

And then, Camellia collapses. She first sinks to her knees, her legs no longer able to support her weight. Her entire core gives way, and Sheila's weight bowls her over. Her back smacks against the mat, driving the remaining wind out of her lungs.

The cheering dies in Dahlia's throat.

All around them, a great cry comes up: whooping exclamations at the conclusion of this incredibly grueling, tortuous contest. "Ohhhhhh!" "Holy cow..." "Fucking... Look at all that..." "Wow... just... whew! Wow!"

Sheila lies sprawled atop Camellia, spreading their arms out to either side. She raises her head and makes a few gurgling and snorting sounds. "Hurrrghh... glarrrkk..." She swallows a few times, hard. Then she turns her head slightly to the side and expels air from her nostrils in a couple of gusts. Globs of blood fly out, but less than before. Her broken nose is red and purpling, and visibly swollen, but the bleeding seems to have slowed; likewise for her cut tongue. Still bleeding, but by a combination of spitting, snorting and swallowing she has finally managed to clear her airway.

Sylvia is screaming from the sidelines. "Yes! Yes! YES! YEEEEESSS! Mooooom! GO MOM!"

Slowly, painfully, Sheila pushes herself to a straddling position across Camellia's chest. Camellia lies motionless, her face on its side away from Dahlia, with only a slight rise and fall of her torso to indicate she is still conscious. Sheila wipes her face roughly a couple of times with the back of her hands, hawks and coughs a few more times, and then raises her head to look straight at Dahlia.

Dahlia is just beside them both, on her knees. Her strong shoulders are slumped. She stares hollowly at the sight before her, at her supine mother. "Get up, Mom," she whispers. "Get up." She sounds broken and hopeless.

Camellia stirs slightly but doesn't respond.

A slow smile spreads across Sheila's face. "Dahlia. Look at me. Look at me, girl."

Unwillingly, Dahlia does so.

"I've won, Dahlia." She is breathless, but her voice is redolent with insufferable smugness. "I've beaten your mother. I'm stronger and better than her. Look." She flexes her arms. The powerful muscles ripple all over her body. The blood streaks make her look extra-savage, like a victorious warrior queen sitting astride her defeated opponent. "You see, Dahlia? You see?"

"Kiss those guns!" Sylvia hollers, and is quickly echoed by the others. "Kiss my momma's guns! Your mom's done, Dahlia! Your mom's done!"

"Mom. Mom, get up." Dahlia moves forward and bends down, closer to her mother's face. "Mom, can you still fight? Mom, please."

Camellia turns her head weakly. Upon seeing the look on Dahlia's face, her own face crumples. She takes an agonized breath. Her arms move, slowly. She reaches up towards Sheila, her fingers clutching useless at Sheila's chest muscles, shoulders, biceps.

"Submit, Camellia? Do you submit? Ask her, Dahlia. Ask your mom."

She lowers her left hand and grabs hold of Camellia's chin, and she raises her right arm slightly, still cocking her fist. The threat is clear.

Dahlia has to blink tears out of her eyes. "Mom, do you submit?"

Camellia's hands clutch uselessly at Sheila's left wrist, at Sheila's right shoulder. She cannot stop the punch if Sheila throws it. Her eyes close. Then her eyes open. Her lips move.

"No."

Sheila's fist comes hammering down on Camellia's helpless face. Dahlia screams. Everyone else, including Sylvia, is open-mouthed in astonishment – for Sylvia and a few others there is also sadistic delight.

A thin trickle of blood comes out of Camellia's nostril. She holds Sheila's gaze defiantly.

"Come on, Camellia. You're finished. I've won. Submit. Now."

"Never."

Growling angrily, Sheila swings again, and her fist smashes into Camellia's mouth in a spray of blood – Camellia's lips are cut.

"Mom," Dahlia sobs.

Camellia bunches her left fist, swings her arm and strikes Sheila's jaw with it. She can put no force into that feeble blow, with limited range of motion. Still, it rocks Sheila back slightly, and seems to daze her for a moment.

Then she glares at Camellia again, her eyes wide with sheer outrage.

"C'mon Sheila, let her up," some of the women begin saying. "Dahlia, make the call. Throw in the towel. Your mom put up a hell of a fight, but she's lost."

Dahlia's hands trembling. Slowly, her fists bunch up. She raises her voice. "As long as my mom refuses to surrender... she hasn't lost yet!"

"You really want me to knock you out, Camellia?" Sheila's voice is low and dangerous. "You really won't submit to me?" She addresses Dahlia without looking up. "Dahlia, you really want to see me do this to your mother?"

Dahlia's heart is in a million pieces, and she feels her mother's pain as her own. Half of her wants to break down and beg Sheila to stop, to throw in the towel on her mother's behalf as the women are saying she should, to save Camellia from any more hurt.

But the other half is her mother's loyal daughter. She knows her mother better than anyone. Despite not thinking of herself as such, Camellia Kwan is a valiant warrior through and through. Her will is indomitable. She has never forgiven herself for submitting to Sheila the way she did in their first match, especially not after seeing the way Dahlia won hers against Sylvia. Mother and daughter have never spoken about it this way, but in her heart Dahlia knows that Camellia was ashamed by what she considered a poor showing. It was galling, to see Dahlia kiss Sheila's pussy while Sheila posed with one foot on Camellia...!

And so with this match, this fight that she consented to... Camellia will fight to the end. She will put her body on the line this one last time. She knows of course that Dahlia is proud of her no matter what, but this is about her pride as a woman. When she told Dahlia before the match that no words of surrender or submission will pass her lips today, she meant it. Dahlia knows it.

So, though it burns her inside, though her heart is pounding with fear for her mother's well-being... she will respect her mother's wishes, as a devoted daughter should. And Camellia will know that Dahlia believes in her to the bitter end, even when no one else does.

"Then let's finish this," Sheila snarls suddenly.

She clambers to her feet, reaches down to grab a hunk of Camellia's bunned hair, and drags her over to Sylvia. Camellia cries out and grabs Sheila's forearm, trying to lessen the pain as her back gets dragged along the mat. Dahlia scrambles to follow.

Then Sheila dumps her in front of the grinning Sylvia, and rolls her body over with a painful toe kick to the ribs. Camellia grabs her side. Her muscles are still too fatigued for her to put up any meaningful resistance as Sheila moves to sit on her lower back, pinning her firmly down.

Dahlia watches this horrific sight in slow motion, knowing every step of what is to come but utterly unable to do anything about it. It is a nightmare come true. While Sylvia practically slavers at this gift from her mother, Dahlia sinks to her knees again, slack-jawed and despondent.

Sheila takes hold of Camellia's arms – she had worked out so hard to make them so sculpted and strong, adding thickness that had never been there before – and drapes them over her thighs. Already this position puts some strain on Camellia's abs and lower back. Then Sheila reaches down and laces her fingers underneath Camellia's chin with exaggerated care.

"Oh, yes," Sylvia sighs orgasmically as her mother slowly leans back, presenting Camellia's bruised and bloodied face to her like a gift. The pain of the camel clutch stretch twists Camellia's face, and Sylvia shivers violently all over. "Ahhhh... I think I can cum without touching myself, Mom... this is so good..."

"Yeah, I'm good to you, aren't I?"

"You're the best, Mom."

The other women are now quiet. Everyone is watching with bated breath, vibrators or hands pressed firmly on clits. Surely... surely now... surely this is enough. Surely Camellia will have to submit now, stubborn and foolish though she is... surely her body can't take this punishment anymore.

Camellia's body trembles finely all over now, uncontrollably, and she cannot prevent herself from uttering soft, weak cries of agony. Her feet flutter and thump the mat.

Dahlia bends low and leans in. "Mom... do you submit? Can you continue?"

"Yes... yes... submit..." Sylvia moans in ecstasy.

"No..."

Sheila has already leaned back as far as she can go. Now she changes tack. She wraps her beefy right arm around Camellia's neck.

"Hurkh..." Camellia begins to choke.

"Give it up, Dahlia," Sylvia says softly. "Give us our victory. Come on, Dahlia. It's time for your pussy pounding. My mom has already broken yours. Don't you see?"

Silence.

Dahlia gazes at her mother's slowly reddening face, squeezed tightly in the crook of Sheila's massive arm. She is etching this moment in her memory. Her mother's final defeat at the hands of her nemesis, her rival. Defeated by the flexing of superior muscle.

This is the only way she can honor her mother now. She waits for the moment when Camellia's eyes begin rolling upwards.

"Mom, can you continue?" she asks softly, lovingly.

Camellia can make no reply. And doesn't. Still conscious, but unresponsive. She can neither speak nor move her head. Her hands dangle limply. Her legs have stopped moving.

Dahlia moves in and plants a quick peck on her mother's cheek.

She straightens up. Still on her knees, she looks at Sheila, at Sylvia, at the other women in the room.

In a clear voice that betrays no weakness, she says, "Camellia Kwan is unable to continue. The winner of this fight... is Sheila Steele."

Nooooooooooooooooo! Why God? Why my favorite fighter must go down in agony? (as if I didn't know the result of the poll)
Another interesting part from the legendary Katie! I kinda don't have the stomach to read the next part and witness the suffering of the Kwans!( but I can't wait for it)

Quote from: MrMota on November 21, 2023, 10:07:49 PM
Nooooooooooooooooo! Why God? Why my favorite fighter must go down in agony? (as if I didn't know the result of the poll)
Another interesting part from the legendary Katie! I kinda don't have the stomach to read the next part and witness the suffering of the Kwans!( but I can't wait for it)

lolwut? me? too kind  ;D 

I'm sorry, but the next 2 parts are being worked on and yes, they will upset you with the suffering described  ;D

I'm late to this party but I just gotta say this is some of the hottest shit I've ever read! Great job!

A half-hour intermission is declared, much needed by all.

Sylvia has been released from her bonds and is applying an ice pack to her mother's face. They are resting together in the middle of the mat. Around them, a few of their closest friends and supporters -- including Florence with her remote control -- recline and fawn over the pair, stroking Sheila's veined muscles and cooing over her size and strength. Sheila is soaking up the attention, smiling widely despite the growing, swelling bruise spreading over the center of her face. She props up her arm on her knee and flexes lazily, basking in the gasps of admiration and lust from those around her. She looks over to where her defeated, humiliated rivals are, and begins smiling so much her cheeks start to hurt.

In a corner of the room, Dahlia sits alone with her mother as they recover from their physical and mental ordeal. She cradles Camellia's head in her lap, feeding her fruit juice from the flask they brought. She's iced Camellia's nose already -- the nosebleed cleared up easily enough, though the bruises are already starting to show on the places that Sheila's fist struck. The bruises on Camellia's belly made Dahlia frantic with anxiety earlier until she ascertained that there was no internal hemorrhage. The trembling in Camellia's muscles have thankfully subsided -- mostly. Nothing more than just sheer muscle fatigue, not a sign of anything more serious. And Camellia is lucid, despite losing consciousness for a few seconds. She gazes up now at her daughter's face.

"I'm sorry," she says, yet again. "I just wasn't strong enough..."

And yet again Dahlia shakes her head and blinks away her tears. She has refused her mother's apology for the umpteenth time.

Again, Camellia says, "Let me take whatever she wants to do. I'm the one who lost. I'm the one she wants to crush and shame."

And yet again Dahlia shakes her head and replies, "No. Let me take it. I want to take it."

"You're both taking it!" Sheila crows. The room isn't that large -- they can hear it all. "Don't you worry about a thing, Camellia. You'll get your share. Sylvia and I, we'll both make sure you get what you've earned." Mother and daughter cackle together, like witches.

"You know what, though," one of the other women speaks up -- she's not with Sheila's admirers in the middle, but is rather reclining in her own chair. She was one of those tweaking Sylvia's nipples during the match, Dahlia vaguelly recalls. "Sylvia shouldn't partake of the prize. She didn't win anything today. Not without cheating."

There are glares and angry words thrown around at that, but a consensus is soon reached: Sylvia indeed did not earn the right to take part in the victory ritual. Despite her furious protests, they have to accept the group decision; it will be just Sheila with the Kwans, while Sylvia is relegated to the audience. All she will be able to do is to spitefully watch and see to herself, while her mother takes the prizes. She does at least get to help Sheila put on the strap-on harness, slipping the inward-curved portion into her mother's pussy and making sure that the front presses firmly against her mother's engorged clit. Then she grumpily finds a chair for herself and angrily demands a tube of lube from her friend Florence.

Small mercies. As Dahlia and Camellia reluctantly get up and move to the center of the ring again for the forfeit, they can feel Sheila's hungry gaze on them both. Despite herself, Dahlia shivers. This torment has been years, maybe even decades, in the making... Camellia still walks with a slight stoop, holding her lower back gingerly and wincing with every other step. Dahlia is firmly resolved: she will take the brunt of it, and spare her tired, injured warrior mother as much as she can.

Sheila, her eyes glittering with malice, brusquely orders Camellia to lie facedown on the mat. Dahlia clenches her fists helplessly as Camellia slowly complies.

"Not gonna back out now, are you, Camellia?" Sheila says mockingly.

"I'm a woman of my word, Sheila," is all the reply Camellia gives over her shoulder.

And then, as the cellphones and tablets get whipped out, Dahlia has to ceremoniously raise Sheila's arm in victory, as Sheila plants her foot hard on Camellia's lower back and flexes her other arm.

This is so wrong, Dahlia cannot help thinking. It should be her mother's arm she is holding now, Camellia's victory she should be celebrating in front of all these scoffers and naysayers. Instead, her strong beautiful mother has to lie pliantly beneath the gleeful, wicked Sheila's foot.

"I want to hear you say," Sheila announces, "that I'm the stronger, better mother with the superior muscles."

The words stick in Dahlia's craw. She cannot force them out of her throat.

"Still skeptical, Dahlia? Maybe I need to prove it to you again...?" Sheila laughs an ugly laugh.

"It's all right, love," Camellia says, still sprawled facedown. Her teardrops fall onto the mat as she blinks. "Just say what she wants."

Dahlia's voice trembles as she complies. "You're the stronger, better mother with superior muscles." And then immediately she adds, "And when it's my turn to challenge you, I'll break you completely and let my mom have her way with you, as revenge for today."

There is a collective gasp around the room.

"Spirit strong as ever," Sheila murmurs as she turns to gaze steadily at the defiant Dahlia, still holding her arm up. "Let's see about breaking it right in front of your momma's eyes, girl..."

Dahlia senses the taunt has worked. Sheila will now focus her lustful attention on Dahlia, whose body is still strong enough to take it.

Or is it...?

Way to go Katie! Another incredible installment to an epic tale.

The rest is coming, I just need time to finish it. :)

Camellia Kwan

My vision keeps blurring with tears, no matter how much I blink. Sheila is yanking me up by the hair now, and I have to clutch at her forearm to lessen the pain, but this pain is nothing compared to the ache in my heart.

I am a loser.

I've done everything I possibly could. I've had my lovely, wonderful daughter with me every step of the way, helping me get into the best shape of my life, giving me the strength to keep pushing beyond my limits, making my muscles harder, better, stronger than ever before. I've had her in bed with me every night, rubbing my soreness away, rejuvenating me so well that I've been able to train seven days a week. She was cheering me on as I matched muscles and willpower with Sheila, pouring strength into my ear. Has any other mother been so blessed?

No. My Dahlia is the best daughter in the world. And I've failed her.

Big, brawny Sheila. Burly, bullying Sheila. Rude, coarse, vulgar Sheila. Her Sylvia is everything I've taught my Dahlia not to be. But here they are, here I am -- beneath Sheila's foot, flat on the mat. Sylvia is looking at her strong, powerful mother standing and flexing over me. My poor Dahlia... she has to perform this victory ritual for my nemesis. And it's all because I was too weak, in the end. My body is too old, too weak, too small. I can't outmuscle Sheila, ever. She will always have the better of me. That's what we've determined here today. Between her and me... I will always be the one who loses.

At least... at least Dahlia is stronger than Sylvia. I'm sure of it. We've demonstrated it a few times already. Despite Sylvia having just that slight edge in size, and despite her use of steroids... Dahlia can beat her. Has beaten her.

Is my darling crazy? Has she just challenged Sheila to a match on my behalf, to win back our honor? I can barely imagine it. My strong, beautiful Dahlia... against this monster who has crushed me. But she's issued the challenge, my brave girl. Will she follow through? Silly question. Of course she will. My brave girl. But how? How does she hope to...?

No time to think about that now. Sheila is in my face now, still holding onto my hair. Deliberately, she spits in my face. I flinch at this gesture of contempt. Her nose bridge is still fiercely purple and swollen where I cracked it, but she's no longer bleeding. How I wish I could smash her sneering face... she'd smash mine worse, but it might be worth it. Dahlia wouldn't be happy to have my face permanently disfigured, though.

My poor girl. What's this monstrous woman going to do to us now? Am I still your strong, sexy mother? Am I a loser now in your eyes? What are you thinking, as you watch me get dominated and humiliated by our family foes?

Sheila flexes her right arm and practically smooshes my face into her hard biceps. The facial bruises she gave me still throb painfully. "Tell her whose muscles are better," Sheila demands. I look at Dahlia shamefacedly, blink some more tears away, and make myself say some suitable words. "Her muscles are better than mine."

Immediately Dahlia shakes her head, tight-lipped, even though moments ago she's just said the same thing. She won't disagree outright -- because she's afraid of what Sheila will do to me if she does so -- but in her own way she's letting me know: she's still in my corner. She still loves me. My heart lifts slightly.

But now Sheila shoves me painfully down onto the mat, and commands me to sit cross-legged. I comply. She then grabs Dahlia's shoulder and shoves. "Lie down, head in your mommy's lap," she laughs evilly.

No... no, she can't be thinking... but she is. The big, black strap-on gleams wetly right in front of me. My heart jumps. She's going to use it. She's going to have Dahlia lying right here... have me cradle my daughter's face in my lap... while she... No, this is worse than I could imagine. She's grabbed hold of Dahlia's ankles, lifting up her legs...

And giving them to me.

She tells me to hold them. To hold onto my daughter's ankles, holding her legs apart and spreading them wide.

The murmurs and exclamations around the room are getting louder. I not only have to do this in front of our enemies, I have to do this while this audience watches...

"Mom..." Dahlia's soft voice calls me back to reality. I look down, blinking away more tears -- they are practically streaming down my face now. Dahlia is looking up at me from below. "Mom," she says again. "It's ok. I can take it. We can take it." She then flexes her arms. The most beautiful double-biceps pose I've ever seen her perform. "Together! They won't break us, Mom. We won't let them."

My fierce, strong, defiant daughter...

Sheila, don't you see? Even as you're forcing my mouth open and making me lubricate your strap-on with my own saliva, don't you see? You may have beaten me bodily, and even broken my spirit... but you'll never break my daughter. You can't. She's too strong for you.

Sheila deep-throats me until I start to gag, then pulls out. The strap-on now has a sheen of my saliva over it. She then grabs my arms and shoulders for support as she lowers herself into position, grunting with effort and anticipation. "Mmm. Yeah... wider, Camellia. Spread her legs wider for me. There we go. Theeeerrree we go... how does that feel, Dahlia? Feels good? You like this? Huh?

"Whatever. Just shut up and get it over with. You won't be half as good as my mom is, anyway." Dahlia has never been so fierce and sassy in her life. She must be heartbroken inside at my defeat, but she's putting on such a fierce front... it's for my sake. She's making such a brave show of it for my sake. I'm so sorry Dahlia... I'm still weeping and defeated. I can't play along with your act. But you're doing such a fine job of it. Sheila is glaring down at her now.

"I'm going to pound your pussy so hard..." she growls as her pelvis begins to move.

"Do your worst," Dahlia grunts in reply. Her muscles tense up all over, as if she's about to sexfight rather than take the punishment that should be meant for me. As if this is a fight she has a chance of winning, as opposed to a one-sided sexual forfeit she's paying on my behalf.

Her strength gives me strength... just a little more. I am able to look Sheila in the eye as she starts the fucking. Over the rhythmic, rapid slap of her flesh against Dahlia's inner thighs she says, "I've wanted this for so long, Camellia Kwan. All these years you strutted around thinking you were better than me. Making it seem like you were untouchable... high and mighty... not so high and mighty now, are you? Huh?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about," I say, my voice trembling slightly. "You're the one who's been so... so boorish... so rude..."

"There you go again," she snarls, and her muscles ripple as she increases the speed of her pounding. Dahlia grunts slightly, her whole body tensed to resist. I can feel her trembling through her ankles as she strains to endure Sheila. "Always like that. Always so proud... think so highly of yourself... but I won! I won, Camellia! You bitch! I... beat... you!"

Sheila is panting and gasping now, and beads of sweat appear on her brow. She is now going full speed with her hips, her abs flexing and undulating as she keeps driving her strap-on into Dahlia. Her fingers dig into my upper arms. Her fetid breath washes over my face, making me gag. Dahlia's face is red, and her lips are slightly parted. She's trembling visibly now, even though she keeps her arms bravely flexed.

"And this is what you get for losing... Camellia!" Sheila says breathlessly. She pushes her nose up against mine. "This, right here... Your girl... is mine!" She smooches my lips then -- my skin crawls at the wet, unwanted contact. She chuckles at my reaction.

"Never!" Dahlia's voice is still strong. "I will never... ungh... belong to you!"

"You're mouthy, aren't you..." Sheila snarls, looking down, her attention taken away from me momentarily. "I'll make you cum, right here in your mother's lap... that'll get you to shut up..."

"Ha! As if... as if you could..." Dahlia has adopted a scoffing tone. "Like I said, Mom... she can't do this half as well as you can. Our training... unggh... our training has been tougher than... than... unngghh..."

Sheila has upped the intensity of her hip thrusts. Her face is now screwed up tight in concentration, still fetching up against mine, her brow pressing against my brow. Sweat now glistens over her whole body. I glance down at Dahlia. My daughter's teeth are clenched and bared, and her eyes are squeezed shut. Her muscles are fully taut all over as she endures the pounding.

I know her body. She won't cum from penetration -- at least, I've never been able to give her one with just penetration, despite all the positions we've tried. So now, she's just pitting her endurance against Sheila's, waiting for Sheila to flex herself into exhaustion. After the half-hour rest we had, most of Sheila's energy has returned, but I think it is still going to be hard for her to breathe, thanks to the damage I did. How much can she do to my Dahlia, and can Dahlia take it all?

"I'll make you cum..." Sheila is practically grunting into my face, her lips moving against mine, even though she's clearly addressing my daughter. "Make you cum..."

"As if you could... you can't... not as good as... my mom..."

I've never done it as fast as Sheila is doing it right now. This is new to Dahlia. Short, sharp, rapidfire thrusts like a piston, for such long minutes... I've never managed to keep up this kind of pace, on the relatively few occasions we've used toys. I can feel something in Dahlia's body. Glancing down, I see the way her abs are flexing... the way her lower belly is moving...

She's getting close. My Dahlia is getting close to orgasm. She's trying to fight it, but she's never been penetrated like this before, and we've never really practiced holding off on orgasms.

If Sheila cums first, and she seems really close as well, then maybe after she's done she'll have to stop and rest, though her orgasm will be long and sustained.

I don't want my Dahlia to cum. Not like this. I don't want Sheila to have the satisfaction, for her to say she's conquered my daughter's pussy while I'm holding her open. Dahlia deserves better. Dahlia deserves better than me. She doesn't deserve to lose like her loser mom loses. She deserves to win. To at least pull through without losing.

"Cum, you bitch..." Sheila snarls.

"You cum first..." Dahlia snarls back. Her voice sounds frantic, desperate. She can't help it. She's getting so close, against her will...

Come on, Sheila. Cum. Cum now. Have your climax while my daughter is still holding out. Dahlia's pride must survive this. Mine can be broken, but not hers. Never hers.

Don't lose, Dahlia! Don't lose!

Please!

Impossible! I won't accept the fact that you actually outdid yourself Katie and it's not even finished yet; well done! I hope Absence of Sylvia won't last long also I bet Dahlia will outlast Sheila she's smaller but her sexdrive is definitely better than Sheila it sure was better than Sylvia! Loved the mother forced to opening up her daughter's legs for her nemesis; truly humiliating and something a heartless brute would do, just shows why I'm team Kwan ;D

"Gnnnnnn... gahhhh... aaargh..."

Sheila's face twists and contorts as her body is wracked by the most powerful orgasm she's ever had. Never has she cum so hard, not with Sylvia, certainly not with anyone else. Her fingers dig so deep into Camellia's flesh that Camellia cries out in pain, but Sheila smothers those cries with her mouth, kissing Camellia so fiercely that she is almost devouring her defeated rival's face.

But as she pulls out of the crimson-faced Dahlia, lying helplessly in her mother's lap with her legs spread wide... as she collapses onto her back, head swimming, seeing stars, buzzing all over so hard she actually starts wondering if she's overdone it... as she gulps in lungful after lungful of air through her mouth, letting the total exhaustion wash over her... a small nagging thought gnaws away at the back of her mind.

The photos and videos will all show her triumph, her total and complete victory. She has stood over Camellia's body, while Dahlia raised her arm in victory; she has taken Dahlia's pussy while forcing Camellia to hold her in place; she has kissed Camellia full on the lips while cumming against Dahlia's pussy. She has shown, without a doubt, that between her and Camellia, the matter is settled. She is the better woman, with the bigger and stronger muscles, the more powerful pussy; she is the superior mother.

Except...

Dahlia didn't cum.

Even though they're both holding each other now and sobbing, trying to console each other... even though her admirers (fair-weather friends, all) are clapping and cheering for her, dazed with orgasms of their own that they owe to her... even though Sylvia is by her side, caressing and fondling away as a good daughter does... something goes sour in Sheila's mouth.

Dahlia didn't cum.

"You did it, Mom. You broke them. Look at them," Sylvia's expression of sadistic delight is obscene -- she got it from her mother, after all.

But Sheila grits her teeth and fumes silently.

Dahlia didn't cum.

And the defiant, disobedient little girl... not so little, she's almost as broad across as Sylvia, she can outmuscle Sylvia, I've seen it with my own eyes... is glaring across the room at them now. She's... she's pointing. At them -- at her!

"You and me next time, Sheila Steele!"

And then she flexes her arm at them! At her!

The sheer, fucking gall of this...

"She's a real firecracker, huh!"

"She crazy? Look at the size difference! I mean... Sylvia's one thing, but Sheila? Did she not see what just happened with her own momma..."

Sylvia is shaking with rage, her fists clenched. "Let me at her, Mom," she snarls. "You already beat her mom, it's my turn now, let me crush her the same way..."

"No," Sheila says. Heads turn to her in shock. "No, hun, shut up," she tells Sylvia to quell her storm of protests. "No, shut the fuck up, Sylvia. I said no! It'll be me and her, just like she wants. You hear me, Dahlia??" She raises her voice. "Challenge accepted! Challenge fucking accepted! Next month, you and me, let's fucking go!"

So the little daughter wants to pit her little muscles against big, strong Sheila Steele? Get revenge for her loser mom? There is no fucking way she can do this. I'm twice her muscle mass. I've got at least 15, maybe even 20 kilos on her. You're going to cry again, Camellia. You're both going to cry, Kwans.


"And this time... if you lose to me, Dahlia," she calls out, "let's make it mean something. Losers become... the domestic servants of the winners, for a full year. Cleaning, laundry... sex slaves. Whaddaya say, huh?" she laughs, as the Kwans seem to hesitate. Everyone is laughing and clapping with excitement at this fitting suggestion. Even Sylvia starts to smile as she looks over at the rival family, contemplating the prospect of having the Kwans serve the Steeles...

Camellia says something, nods, and kisses Dahlia on the lips. Dahlia sets her shoulders more firmly, nods back, and returns the kiss. And Sheila knows the deal is sealed, even before Dahlia turns around and declares that they, as a family, accept the terms.

Sheila can hardly contain her anticipation. And they haven't got a fucking clue what I have in store for them...

To be continued...

The Kwans and the Steeles will return...