Barocca vs Devin DeRay

Pound Puppies

With Co Co Austin

The TV floor director hopped down from the ring and out of camera range, turned toward CoCo Austin and flashed her the director's countdown: 54321, At his signal, the houselights dimmed except on the ring and a spotlight picked up CoCo mounting the steps to the thunderous ovation of the sell-out crowd. The full-busted and even fuller-bootied blonde milked every moment as she slowly and sensuously bent to climb through the ropes, guaranteeing that every spectator on both sides of that ring corner got a woody-popping eyeful of her spectacular ass. The crowd erupted with appreciation. After a couple of false starts-it's not easy to do this while teetering on platform stiletto heels-CoCo swung one creamy leg between the ropes, followed by that delicious ass. She bumped her ample bosom on the middle rope, almost precipitating another unplanned wardrobe malfunction, before easing her other leg through.

Having successfully navigated that hurdle, CoCo circumnavigated the ring, treating the spectators to every jiggle she could muster. She was attired in the most feminized version of a tuxedo she could devise: an extremely low-cut and revealing white bustier that almost covered the tops of her areolas; black booty shorts that rode high above her plump rosy cheeks; and a black formal jacket, halter length, that struggled futilely to contain her enhanced hooters. Black fishnet hose hugged her legs while the afore-mentioned black platforms added 3" to her stature and the spike heels kept her on tip-toes like a prima ballerina.

Taking the microphone, CoCo intoned, "Good evening, gentlemen, and welcome to tonight's extra-special event. For those of you who don't know, my name is CoCo Austin, and I'm your MC for the evening. As you can see, this event is being televised live to a select pay-per-view clientele. Copies of this telecast will be made available on DVD through our website. Before I introduce our combatants, let me remind you to hold on to your ticket stubs. We will hold a drawing in a few minutes and the holders of the two lucky tickets will- Well, we'll get to that in just a little bit."

"Now, gentlemen, it's my distinct pleasure to introduce our ladies. Both of our battling beauties are veterans of Napali Video, where they appeared together in two catfights, as well as many other adult entertainment and femme fight productions. Our Challenger, the lady who dreamed up tonight's unique contest, is ready to come down the main aisle. Please welcome, at 5' 10" and 125 pounds, the undisputed Blow Job Queen herself-DEVIN DeRAY!"

The spotlight hit Devin, who squinted and raised both arms to acknowledge the roar of the nearly all-male arena crowd. Minutes before she had been in her dressing room, smoothing her glittering hot pink Spandex low-rise hiphuggers and pulling on her two-sizes-too-small white cutoff tanktop. Devin's dark brown hair was highlighted with golden blonde streaks that picked up the spotlight dramatically. An entourage of six security guards parted the way for her and prevented any of her overenthusiastic fans from making direct contact. As she neared the ring, CoCo recited Devin's vital statistics: an overall 45" bust, a 34DDD bra size, a slim 23" waist, and generous 38" hips. All of these swayed temptingly to the rock music that pulsated through the arena's sound system.

Rumors had buzzed through the dressing area that several celebrities had bought tickets online. Napali's Kenny Lloyd and his wife Joi Reno were alleged to be among the elite. The most persistent rumor was that Samuel L. Jackson was in attendance. Devin strained to catch a glimpse of any of these A-list spectators, but couldn't make out many faces under these lighting conditions.

Up the steps and through the ropes, the tall tigress bounced with every step, her tits and ass jiggling like gelatin under her shrink-wrapped outfit. She, too, walked the inner circumference of the ring, drinking in the adulation of the crowd and waving back to them. Pausing next to CoCo, Devin still towered over her despite the 5' 2" blonde's height-augmenting shoes. Devin wore silver pumps with a 4" heel; like her sprayed-on hiphuggers, her shoes also sparkled and reflected the bright lights.

When the uproar finally died down enough, CoCo returned to center ring to resume her introduction. "And now here is the former Napali Wrestling Queen, also standing 5' 10", weighing 135, and dazzling us with her bust measurement of 66" overall, crammed into a 46FF bra-but not tonight-a 22" waist, and 38" hips, the Brazilian Bombshell-BAROCCA!"

The music shifted to Native American war drums as the curtain parted and Barocca, dressed in a sexily abbreviated Indian maiden costume, stepped into the spotlight. This beige buckskin rig was once one of her exotic dance outfits, but now that it was a bit old and starting to wear out, she demoted it to the status of wrestling gear. It still showed off every aspect of her spectacular body卆nd the pandemonium from the throng let her know they got her message. There wasn't much to the costume; basically it consisted of a loincloth that covered her pussy and the upper half of her ass, leaving the sides bare except for the thin rawhide strap that held the front and rear flaps together. A similar thin strap was hard pressed to keep the matching short buckskin vest from falling open and revealing Barocca's bulging, bouncing bazookas. Her long legs tapered down into a pair of beige buckskin kneeboots with very unauthentic 4" heels. The light color contrasted perfectly with her dark skin and long, curly, raven black hair.

The big Brazilian had always had a slim build, which accented her surgically supersized boobs. Her hips had remained 36" for years, but now that she was mentoring Esther Baxter, who was endowed with a 40" booty, Barocca had become convinced that she needed to add a bit more mass to her ass. Not too much; just enough to satisfy the men who prefer a big caboose on their women. So far she'd added 2" to her brown butt and was striving to reach 40". On her statuesque frame, the extra saddlebags would look perfect.

Barocca swung that delectable derriere into the ring and paraded it around for all to see. At each corner post, she paused, turned her back to the audience, and flipped the rear loincloth flap up for a quick flash. Sharp-eyed spectators noted that the dusky doll was totally bare underneath; no thong, no G-string. Feeling upstaged, Devin pantomimed skipping rope, getting her massive, mouthwatering melons moving in sync under that taut tanktop. Unwilling to relinquish even the tiniest bit of attention to Ms DeRay's undulating udders, Barocca homed in on her rival and joined the phantom rope skipping. CoCo tried to insert herself between the romping rivals but found it difficult to get their attention, much less to pry them apart. Her platform heels raised CoCo to about 5' 8" but Devin & Barocca's heels elevated them to 6' 2" each. The blonde was in danger of being whacked in the face with an errant tit. The audience loved it.

CoCo at last managed to escort the Indian princess to the opposite corner and took up the microphone again. "Gentlemen, the time has come for our ladies to engage in combat. Tonight you will witness what, for lack of a better term, will be an Iron Titty Contest. That is, a competition to see which of these busty black beauties has the toughest tits卼he boobies that can absorb the most punishment. They will strip off their tops" The crowd cheers wildly. "卆nd take turns punching each other's bare breasts. The recipient of each blow must keep her arms folded behind her back. She is not allowed to make any defensive moves. No flinching, no stepping aside. The ladies will stand within this circle," CoCo indicates a 6'-diameter circle on the ring floor, "at all times. If a woman is knocked out of the circle, she has 15 seconds to get at least one foot back inside it."

"All punches must be to the breasts; punching anything else is a foul and will cost the violator one punch. Let me clarify that: If one girl lands a blow on any other part of her opponent's body, she will lose a turn and her opponent will be allowed two consecutive breast punches. There is no time limit. Fighting will continue until one girl surrenders, or cannot return to the circle in time, or is knocked unconscious."

A hush fell over the crowd as CoCo recited the brutal rules. The spectators, who had only just learned of the nature of this competition, were shocked that two women with such heavenly headlights would consent to batter each other's boobs in this abusive manner. CoCo allowed time for the gravity of the spectacle they were all about to witness to sink in. Then with a lusty gleam in her eye, CoCo continued.

"Now it is my solemn duty to prove to you that neither of our combatants is concealing any foreign objects in her gozongas. Devin, please remove your shirt."

"Oh, I'd rather you did that," Devin teased, thrusting her chest toward the blonde.

CoCo wasn't the least bit shy. She hooked a finger in the tanktop's neckline and slowly ripped it open, letting Devin's divine triple-Ds spill out. She kneaded each of those big brown breasts and tickled the dark nipple that popped up almost immediately. Ms DeRay loved these manipulations, moaning deeply and squirming while the crowd went wild.

Turning her attention to Barocca, CoCo strode across the ring and reached for the tiny rawhide strand that held the vest in place. But the Bombshell was too fast and snapped the stretched string, letting her mounds explode from their confines. Ms Austin couldn't keep her hands off those jumbo juggs and grabbed them as Barocca shrugged off the vest. The twinkle in CoCo's eyes abruptly transformed into a fiery glare when she clamped down on the combatant's casabas. That's when Barocca discovered that CoCo had filed the corners of her fingernails to sharp right angles that dug into her tender titflesh.

"I don't like you, Barocca," she snarled under her breath through a crocodile grin. Another sharp squeeze and Barocca winced in pain. "You've been a real bitch all these years and I want to see Devin beat your boobies till you cry. You hear me? Till you cry!" She punctuated that last remark with a double nipple pinch that nearly achieved her stated goal.

"Fucking bitch," Barocca thought. "Someday I'll get you in the ring and then we'll see who cries."

Back at the microphone, CoCo perks up. "Now you see that the only things these gals have been hiding under their tops are their titties. But why take my word for it? You want to see for yourselves, right, guys?" The audience roared its agreement. "And that's where your ticket stubs come in." As she spoke, an assistant passed her a Plexiglas cube filled with surrendered admission tickets.

"I'm going to let each girl draw a ticket and read off the serial number. The lucky stud with the matching stub will get to examine her breasts thoroughly to make sure that everything is on the up-and-up. Devin, you'll draw first."

Devin closed her eyes and plunged her hand into the cube. Withdrawing a ticket, she scrutinized it and spoke into the microphone, "639478." During the moment of silence, all three girls scanned the crowd until a voice blurted out, "I got it! I got it! It's me!" All heads turned toward the source. A short, husky man emerged from the darkness and hurried toward the ring. He almost stumbled scrambling up the steps but arrived in front of Devin safely.

He was stocky and about 5' 3", with a well-developed upper body; obviously an amateur bodybuilder. His face resembled Jesse L. Martin from TV's Law and Order series, but he was considerably shorter. He was nervous and stared straight ahead卹ight into Devin's pontoons, whose areolas were exactly at his eye level. When asked, he identified himself as Hector.

"Well, Hector," Devin grinned, "do what you came here to do." Without further prodding, Hector licked his lips and grabbed a double handful of Devin's dugs. He massaged them carefully and thoroughly. Giggling not only at the tickling sensation but also at Hector's obvious devotion to the task at hand, Devin dropped her eyes to his crotch. An enormous bulge was straining at his fly, threatening to burst the zipper. "Why, Hector," Devin exclaimed in mock amazement, "could you get any erecter?"

CoCo moved back to Barocca and shoved the cube rudely at her face. Ignoring the contempt, the Brazilian plucked out a ticket and read aloud, "640051." Nothing. A few groans and muttered curses seeped from the crowd, but no jubilant response. Hefting her huge hooters, Barocca inquired, "Doesn't the lucky man want to come up here and examine my wares?" Still nothing.

"Some asshole must've thrown that stub away. Draw again," CoCo commanded.

"Don't sass me, cunt," Barocca sneered so only CoCo could hear. She pulled out another ticket and announced, "640308." About a second later a whoop went up and a husky, gruff voice said, "That's me."

Barocca's jaw dropped when she saw the fat old man in a rumpled gray suit lumber toward the ring. This guy had to be in his 70s. CoCo couldn't help laughing but quickly disguised it as a cheer for the winner. Devin and Hector helped him negotiate the ropes and enter the ring, but he managed to make it over to Barocca's corner without further assistance. She greeted him with charitable kindness. "Who's my lucky man?"

"Thad- Thaddeus," he wheezed, setting off a coughing fit. He wiped his hands on his coat and placed them gently on Barocca's boobs. For a man with large hands, Thaddeus was surprisingly gentle and Barocca's nipples responded instantly, standing at full attention, which he fully appreciated. "You're so lovely," he rasped softly, "and it's been such a long time since" Barocca was touched by this tender moment. Then she remembered the ordeal ahead of her and was jolted back to reality.

CoCo announced, "OK, fellas, now that you've thoroughly examined the merchandise and found it entirely to your satisfaction, we have one more chore for you. To make this bust-banging battle last as long as possible, we're gonna oil up their titties-or rather, you're gonna oil 'em up. We have this big dip tank with specially-prepared oils: baby oil, corn oil, coconut oil, everything but motor oil. Devin and Barocca are gonna lower their juggs into this concoction and you get to help spread it around. Are you up to the task?"

Hector and Thad were plenty ready. The dip tank was actually a large, rectangular plastic basin about 6" deep. There were about 2"-3" of fragrant oil in it. Hector objected, "That ain't enough oil to cover these melons."

"Don't worry, man," Thad consoled him. "Archimedes principle of liquid displacement will take care of everything." Hector blinked at that but made no remark as the girls stepped forward with their Big Dippers. The basin was set on a folding stand like a TV table.

Devin went first. "Before I dunk my babies, Hector, I want you to kiss them for luck." He didn't have to be told twice. Hector eagerly licked, sucked, and kissed Devin's triple-D delights until the crowd grew restless. Holding Hector's hand to steady herself, Devin bent at the waist and her heavy hangers disappeared into the dip tank. All that titflesh raised the oil level until it almost slopped over the top.

"You see?" Thad asked rhetorically. "That old Archimedes knew his shit."

Devin giggled. "It's cold." She straightened up, her nipples puckered from the chilly oil. Although thicker than ordinary body oils, it dripped lazily from Devin's gazongas.

Barocca aimed her big guns at Thaddeus and said, "Give 'em a big send-off." Cupping her casabas, he bent his face into them and nuzzled the Brazilian to a level of excitement indicated by her rock-hard nipples. She further rewarded the old-timer with a peck on the cheek and added, "Time for my boob lube." Thad held her hand as she plopped her puppies into the slime and swished them gently to get an even coating.

"Thanks, guys," CoCo said. "You may remove the dip tank now. Ladies, take you positions in the circle, at the line. Devin, as the inventor of this Iron Titty Contest, you get to throw the first punch. Barocca, clasp your hands behind your back. Dev, you may fire at will. And may the best bosom win."

Devin flexed her fingers a few times to make the hardest fist she could. She also locked eyes with Barocca in an attempt to intimidate her. The Bombshell knew Devin would throw her very best and hardest punch first; she was curious to see just how damaging it would be. She didn't have to wait long.

Devin sank her hard iron fist straight into Barocca's left boob. The slick oil caused the fist to skitter off-course slightly, but it still managed to deflate the orb against her ribcage. The pain was indescribable and with a grunt, Barocca staggered back, one foot straying outside the circle. She gasped, resisted the inclination to cradle her mashed mammary, and stepped back into position.

"You have one minute to respond," CoCo reminded Barocca. The Brazilian could play the psychological game too. She interlaced her fingers and flexed them backward, cracking her knuckles. She smiled at Devin like a hungry fox eying a henhouse. Barocca reminded her prey about her hands and Devin halfheartedly complied. Holding her right hand 2" from Devin's nose, she slowly tightened it into a fist. With a sudden intake of breath, she jerked her right arm back and-

-Held it. Devin winced, scrunching her eyes tightly shut in anticipation. When there was no impact, she opened her eyes to see Barocca grinning at her before bursting into derisive laughter. The instant Barocca saw Devin relax, she punched her left breast with a downward and inward blow. No longer tensed for the expected impact, Devin reeled out of the circle with a shriek of pain. Her chest felt like a grenade had detonated in side it, plus she was humiliated at having been faked out so easily. CoCo audible counted down the 15 seconds and Devin returned to the circle at the last instant. She now had one minute to pay back Barocca.

This time the Bombshell crossed her arms behind her back, the better to brace herself for Devin's angrier second blow. This pose also thrust her rack defiantly forward, challengingly and contemptibly. And why not? Barocca was justifiably proud of her jumbo juggs and relished the attention they drew from every man and a surprisingly large percentage of women. Even Devin, who was comparable in this department, couldn't keep her eyes from Barocca's bounty. Misery loves company and the Brazilian figured Devin would spread her misery to Barocca's right breast.

And she was right. DeRay delivered an arching right cross to Barocca's so-far unharmed udder. But the thick oil spoiled the full impact of the blow. She still grunted on contact, but much of the fist's force was deflected when the slick goo cut the friction to nearly zero. After a few moments of shallow gasping, Barocca was ready to continue.

This oil was specially prepared for this contest. Most baby oil absorbs into the skin quickly and must be replenished often. And it's so lightweight it would run off the girls' bodies in seconds. Many cooking oils are thick enough but turn sticky with long exposure to air. What was needed was a formulation that would stay slick and stay put, clinging to the combatants' breasts and helping to dissipate the force of the punches. That way the fight would last a long time and the girls wouldn't get hurt too early.

Devin assumed a stoic stance. Barocca repeated the knuckle-cracking gesture but there was no "crack" this time. She kept her gaze on Devin's left lobe, clenching and unclenching her right fist until it felt just perfect. DeRay gritted her teeth and watched her assailant's right with unwavering concentration. So she was shocked when Barocca's left pancaked her right breast, her protruding knuckle biting into the plump pillow.

Barocca had faked her out again. Devin's inflamed floppers throbbed with every pulse. Maybe this Iron Titty Contest wasn't such a hot idea after all. Devin had been certain their implants would have absorbed much of the force of each punch, thus minimizing the pain in the real tissue. But a tit-punch is still a tit-punch and it hurt like a motherfucker. Barocca grinned at her from above her glossy globes and Devin was consoled with the knowledge that the next punch was hers. She had a strategy in mind.

Devin stepped to the line and adjusted the waistband of her hiphuggers. When she heard Barocca sigh, she lashed out with a solid right uppercut that caught her foe off-guard and sank her to one knee. Devin's fans, led by Hector, cheered this advance by their girl. This time Barocca cradled her mauled mound and there were tears in her eyes when she rose. This was better than Devin expected and she was pleased that Part 1 of her strategy had worked so well. Now Barocca would be angry and seeking revenge.

Barocca quickly wiped her oily hands on a towel and tossed it at Devin's face. That distraction covered a right hook to Devin's left breast, slamming it into her right breast. Devin, on the alert for anything, absorbed the blow and immediately fired back with another uppercut to the same tit she'd just hit. Again sucker-punched, Barocca fell onto her back with a crash, her buckskin loincloth flying up and exposing her smooth, shaved pussy. This really set off Devin's devoted followers, who hooted, hollered, and stamped their feet. Barocca's fans were stunned to see their champion on her back after only four punches.

On her feet again, the Bombshell was dismayed to see her tortured tit swelling noticeably. She hoped Devin's game wasn't to beat up one breast until the pain grew so incapacitating that she'd be forced to submit. Barocca would rather die first厀hich she felt she was about to do. Tears of agony streamed down her cheeks. Devin would be delighted when she finished strutting around and saw she'd made the great Barocca cry. To buy some time, the Brazilian massaged her maimed mammary with both hands, but actually she was wiping off as much of the oil as she could. Then she called to CoCo, "Time out, I need more oil." The dip tank was brought out and this time Barocca was glad to dunk her damaged darlings in the cool, soothing oil. Her spirits were lifted even higher when she realized it was again her turn to throw a punch.

The livid Latina put everything she had into a melon-masher that sat DeRay on her derriere even before she realized what hit her. Two seconds of numbness ended with the onrush of excruciating pain that nearly caused her to black out. Barocca's fans let out a triumphant whoop as their girl proved she was most definitely still in this contest. As Devin rose, the Brazilian set the stage for her next tactic.

While remaining inside the circle, Barocca turned to acknowledge her fans' adulation. On her next step, she pretended to slip on the oil that had dripped and been punched from their beleaguered breasts. She extended the pantomime by sliding a foot cautiously on the hazardous puddle. Back on her mark, she kept adjusting her stance, shuffling her feet slightly and setting her puffed-up pendulums swaying. Through it all, Barocca taunted and teased Devin, daring her to take her best shot. When she did, Barocca's boob billowed away and the punch did no damage.

Anticipating the next punch and not being allowed to take any defensive action turned out to be a bigger psychological factor than anyone, even the combatants, had expected. Playing on that, the Bombshell requested and got another brief time out so Devin could top-off her oil. It was decided to leave the dip tank at the circle's edge, to facilitate future oil needs. Barocca carefully aimed this blow so her rising fist would slide of Devin's slick, distorted tit and catch her on the jaw.

"All right, that's enough," CoCo declared. "I'm calling a foul on you, Barocca. I let that little dance you did pass, even though I considered it the same as flinching. But this last punch was no accident. I'm awarding Devin a free punch." Cheers from Devin's devotees, boos from Barocca's, all deafening.

The Brazilian Bombshell argued her case over the din but Austin was adamant. A devilish gleam glinted in Devin's eyes. Frustrated, Barocca reached her left hand into the oil tank and scooped a handful of the slimy goo into CoCo's face, followed instantly by an anger-propelled right cross to the blonde's chin. The force popped CoCo's pink puppies out of her top and spun her a full turn on her way down to the mat. The she lay on her back, oily, breasts heaving, and out cold.

"That changes nothing," Devin stated. "I still get to deliver two consecutive punches卽nless you want to concede right now, Barocca. How about it? Are you woman enough? Are your titties tough enough? Or are you just a big, black pussy?"

In front of this crowd, the Latina had no choice. Of course, had they been all alone, just she and Devin, Barocca still would have granted her the free punch. The only thing bigger than the Brazilian's tits was her ego. She strode up to Devin, thrust out her ravaged rack, and spat, "Give me two, bitch."

Devin did just that. She swung both fists around in sweeping arcs, crushing Barocca's casabas together. A huge spray of oil splattered in all directions. The fearless femme fighter blacked out on her feet for a second, coming to when she fell face-first onto Devin's cream-filled cupcakes. Her legs buckled and she continued her descent down Devin, her arms wrapped loosely around her foe like she was a fire pole. DeRay stepped back, leaving Barocca on all fours, her sore and swollen milk cans dangling in agony.

Devin's disciples urged Barocca to give up. Her own fans were split between encouraging her to continue to turn it around, and genuine concern for her physical well-being. Barocca's bazooms were being crushed to pulp. But the damage to her pride would be even worse. Slowly she stood up. Staring daggers at DeRay, she gritted her teeth and said, "My turn."

The fire raging inside Barocca was of nuclear intensity. She channeled every bit of it through her fist and straight into Devin's battered boob. The impact jolted her out of the circle, off the ropes, and onto the mat協ace-first. Crashing onto her masked milkers was like driving a knife into an open wound. In this position, at least no one could see her weep. How could she do that? How could Barocca take the breast beating Devin had dealt her and keep coming back with such devastating blows? Surely a pounding like this, especially to sensitive mammary tissue, must be wearing her down.

With a deep breath, Devin rolled her brutalized body back into the circle and climbed unsteadily to her feet. How could she do that, Barocca wondered, careful to give no indication of her astonishment卭r frustration. Wearily, the wanton warriors toed the line and carried on for another 15 minutes, raining blow after diminishing blow onto each other's abused boobs. By then everyone knew the end was near. Devin and Barocca were on their knees, no longer able to stand, sitting back on their heels between punches. They gulped air through their mouths. While their proud but pounded puppies still glistened with oil, the rest of their bodies were drenched with sweat and their carefully coiffured hair now dangled in damp strings.

Devin's most recent punch was little more than a slap卋ut it hurt like a kick from a steel-toed boot. It still rolled Barocca onto her back. She achingly took her time getting back up. She was sure Devin didn't have another punch in her. She knew she couldn't take another one even if Devin had it. So this was it. The grand finale. With a deep breath, Barocca made her last delivery of the day. It sent DeRay sprawling onto the still unconscious and unremoved carcass of CoCo Austin. Devin landed face-up, her back arched backwards over the blonde's body. As lithe and supple as Devin was, she simply lacked the strength and leverage necessary to get back up.

On her hands and knees, Barocca watched her victim futilely try to rejoin the fight as the audience counted off the full 60 seconds. The instant she was officially declared the winner, Barocca mumbled, "Iron Titties," and collapsed onto her back. Stand-by ambulances rushed the ravaged ruffians to separate hospitals, where they spent almost two weeks recovering from inflamed breasts that had swollen to more than 50% greater than their normal oversize dimensions.

During Devin's stay, she maintained her BJ Queen status by blowing the socks off every intern in her wing卆nd there were dozens of them.

Old Thaddeus visited Barocca every day during her convalescence. He even sneaked in chocolate covered creams, her favorite. He said they reminded him of her. After her discharge, Barocca repaid his kindness and thoughtfulness by treating him to the best fucking he'd ever had.


Mr. Skin