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A Submissive Whore and a Bondage Whore Wrestle for Money

submissive whoreA submissive whore often has to step out of her comfort zone to please her Master. A few years ago I traveled to Sin City with my boss, my primary master. I accompanied him to some meetings, one in a seedy little strip club.The conversation turned to me and big tits. I was forced to expose them in the bar. Men just came up and started punching and grabbing them. One guy told my Master about an underground fight club that he could make top dollar off my tits. The catch was I had to wrestle another chick in the nude, in front of horny men making bets on which big breasted babe would emerge victorious. I didn’t think Master would go for something so crass, but when the dude told him he made thousands off his bitch and I had better tits and was a ginger, well he just saw dollar signs.

Next thing I knew, I was being oiled up stripped naked and thrown in the ring with a bondage whore who was equally clueless about how to wrestle. I tried to channel my inner Hulk Hogan for some moves to make Master proud, but I ended up just using my big tits to smack her down. Guys were chanting “Ginger Ginger,” so I knew they were rooting for me since she was a blonde bitch. My tits are natural, so they had a lot of bounce. Seeing Master beam, and adjust his trousers because of his hard on made me smile. It also made me fight harder and nastier. I grabbed her tits and gave her a painful titty twist while punching her repeatedly in the belly. I don’t think there were any rules, so I fought dirty to win. She had a tuff of pussy hair that I grabbed and twisted until I pulled it out. The bitch actually bleached her snatch fur. She wasn’t a natural blonde. I shoved her beaver pelt in her mouth as I punched her titties.

bondage whoreMoney was being thrown in the ring, the crowd of men were screaming for me to take the bitch out. My pussy was pumped, my adrenaline flowing, and I was enjoying myself more than I thought. I cornered the bitch. I saw punching bags instead of tits. I could feel the Hulk inside me. I drop kicked her, then put her in a Nelson hold, and slammed her down so hard I busted a saline bag in her left tit. I got labeled the The Boob Buster. I won that match, and many more over that weekend. Master was proud of me, which was all that mattered

I still wrestle on my Master’s whim, just often now it is men. I never win. It is more for humiliation than sport, for me at least. My humiliation is sport for men.

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