Barocca vs CoCo Austin vs Tia Carrere vs Halle Berry

There is no dusk on the West Coast. When the sun sets, it turns dark immediately. That’s what everyone at the Mulholland Drive mansion was waiting for. A promoter for a fabric manufacturer had devised a dramatic way to introduce his client’s newest product: a shimmering, almost iridescent stretch fabric. What better way to showcase this revolutionary clothing material than by staging a private women’s wrestling match starring four celebrities wearing colorful bikinis made from this miracle fabric? Only in L.A.

The regulation-size outdoor ring erected on the rear lawn was minimally illuminated to maximize the effect of the material’s glowing properties. It sat in a sea of inky darkness, a moderately dim island consisting of a black platform about two feet high, four black cornerposts, and three levels of black vinyl-sheathed ropes. In attendance were representatives from all the important fashion designers and clothing manufacturers, not to mention the usual Hollywood glitterati. Doubling as the MC for the event, the promoter entered the ring.

“Ladies and gentlemen, the moment has come. You’ve heard our pitch. You’ve seen our literature. You’ve eaten our gourmet food. You’ve enjoyed our liquor. [Laughs] Now it’s time to actually view our amazing product and judge for yourselves. Let me introduce our first celebrity wrestler: CoCo Austin!”

The first thing that drew the spectators’ eyes was a glowing sky blue bikini undulating from the darkness near the house. Then a thick blonde mane caught the light. Finally CoCo’s busty, big-bootied figure became recognizable as she climbed onto the low ring platform and modeled the eye-popping thong bikini before leaning against the far corner turnbuckle pad.

“Next we have Tia Carrere,” the promoter intoned and all eyes returned to the spot where CoCo first appeared. Then they jumped to a bright golden flicker a few yards to the left. It, too, was bikini-shaped, the top bouncing subtly and the bottom swaying seductively. The rest of Tia emerged from the blackness. She entered the ring and displayed her luscious thong bikini to one and all before posing in the other far corner.

“Bring out Bar-r-rocca,” he summoned, rolling the “R”. The audience scanned the area near the house until someone called out, “Over here. There she is.” A positively radiant white bikini danced on the other side of the lawn. Only the glowing bandeau bra and plunging V-shaped thong were visible, as though a ghost were gyrating just beyond the pool of low-watt lamps that lit the ring area. With her dark skin, Barocca didn’t fully emerge from the blackness until she almost reached the ring. The crowd loved the sight of her shimmering white-hot thong ensemble as she danced energetically toward the platform. Within the squared circle, the Brazilian Bombshell writhed erotically and even did a full cartwheel before idling in her corner to await the fourth contestant.

“And our final contender…none other than Halle Berry!” The audience erupted with cheers, whistles, and applause as a glimmer of bright red materialized near the house. It paused, the floated slowly and effortlessly toward the ring, milking the uproar for all it was worth. Halle paused again just inside the faint halo of light. Then she strode regally past the front row of ecstatic spectators. Unable to stifle her grin, the award-winning actress nodded in acknowledgement while giving the fashionistas a close-up view of her flame-red thong bikini-and its café-au-lait contents-before entering the ring and settling into the remaining corner.

As the promoter/MC delivered a brief additional sales pitch, the women eyed each other with caution and suspicion. Their agents had made it crystal-clear that this was to be a demonstration match, not a real fight. More choreographic than athletic. They were there to help sell the product, not to win.

To add to the staginess of the event, special rules were imposed. This was not a tag match nor a battle royal. Two girls would “fight”; after a specified interval, the MC would call one girl out and send in a replacement, varying the order so each would tussle with every one of the other three. The audience would indicate by applause at the end who had “won” the match.

The busty Bombshell assumed these limitations were imposed at the insistence of the others. “They’re too vain and preoccupied with their appearance to engage in real combat,” she thought. “I’ve fought dozens of tough opponents and taken my lumps. And I still look as good as these pampered bimbos-better, in fact. All I can expect from these pussies is a phony catfight. Too fragile and delicate for the real thing. Shit,” she snorted.

The crowd was getting restless when the MC finally wrapped up his spiel and announced, “Starting off tonight’s battle will be lovely CoCo in shimmering blue and sultry Tia in glimmering gold. Halle, if you and Barocca will step outside the ropes, we’ll begin when the bell sounds. And ladies, please remove your heels.”

The bell sent the brunette Asian and the blonde stunner circling each other cautiously. Barocca observed, “I’ll bet these two only swap a little slap and tickle. Mostly they’ll just flash their bods and tease those horny suckers out there.” She instinctively started to adjust her thong, usually a requirement after climbing through the ropes, when she realized that wasn’t necessary. “This suit fits like a second skin. It was easy to put on, quite elastic. But it’s as snug as a suntan and stays in place. Looks dynamite and feels great. It really is a miracle fabric.”

CoCo and Tia had locked onto each other’s shoulders and appeared to be dancing more than wrestling. Barocca noted that Halle kept shifting her gaze nervously between the grapplers and her. “She’s wondering if I’m going to play along with this staged bout or fight like I usually do. I wonder, too.”

After three minutes of this boring slow-dancing, the MC called “CoCo out, Barocca in.” The blue belle and the golden girl politely disengaged. The white-wrapped warrior squatted in a deep kneebend, pulling the top rope down sharply, then catapulted herself over the ropes and into the ring. Her momentum carried her crashing into Tia and scoring the first real knockdown of the battle.

When Tia quit rolling, one boob had popped out of her spaghetti-strap top and she hurriedly tucked it back in, feigning embarrassment. Barocca grinned broadly, her pearly teeth beaming almost as brightly as her dazzling bandeau bikini. Tia’s eyes narrowed to tight slits, thus preventing her searing gaze from scorching innocent bystanders and vaporizing the Brazilian goddess. She leaped to her feet and ran at Barocca, who stepped aside at the last moment like a champion torero. Except toreros don’t deliberately trip the charging bull. This time Tia stumbled into the ropes and almost fell onto the lawn. The veteran femme fighter laughed out loud and glanced around to catch a concerned expression on Halle’s face. “Now she knows how this match is going to go,” Barocca sighed.

She returned her attention to Tia just a moment too late. Tia socked the statuesque stripper across the jaw, spinning her onto the ropes. A follow-up belly punch bounced the Brazilian off the ropes again. Tia caught her on the rebound by her bandeau bra and yanked it down hard. Barocca’s treasure chest spilled out of the top that…didn’t rip. The snowy sash had stretched taut and was still in Tia’s grip, but showed no indication of being overstrained. To further demonstrate its amazing elasticity, Tia tugged it once more and let it snap back loudly against Barocca’s bulging bosom.

The two exotic lovelies made a wide, slow circle around each other. Mindful of her primary purpose tonight-to promote this new fabric-Barocca slipped her tit sling over her head and stretched it for the crowd. “Wow! This is a miracle,” she gushed loud enough for all to hear. “Here, see for yourselves.” The topless tigress slingshot her top out to the mesmerized buyers in the surrounding darkness. “It’s so comfortable, I forgot I was wearing it,” she added.

By that time Barocca and Tia had spiraled in closer, near enough to be within reach. Tia snarled, “You whore. You’re just jealous because I’m in the Stone Rage Hall of Fame and you aren’t. Big shot Miss High-And-Mighty with her pumped-up titties. But no Hall of Fame. Go ahead and flaunt your big boobs, you exhibitionist bimbo.”

“What a mouth on you,” Barocca purred, grinning slyly. “Remember why we’re both here, my lady. To shake our booties and sell this rag.” With that the Bombshell exploded, clamping a tight headlock on her bitter opponent. While choking Tia with her strong right, she reached around behind with her left and groped for Tia’s bra strings. She quickly found an end and pulled the knot loose. The gold top fell off, dangling Tia’s tits for all to see. With a deft move, Barocca released her hold, whipped Tia’s top over her head, and flung it to the screaming crowd.

The bare-busted brunettes kept brawling, using the entire ring as they tossed each other around. Barocca hip-tossed Tia with a resounding crash. Ms Carrere paid her back seconds later with a monkeyflip that once again bounced the busty Brazilian off the ropes so she landed on Tia. The floor fight was broken up when the MC called, “Time. Tia out, Halle in.”

Tia got in a farewell kick to Barocca’s butt on her way out. Halle entered with trepidation as Barocca resurrected herself from the mat and turned to face the movie star. Halle was a good enough actress to hide the fact that she dreaded the next several minutes. The Bombshell knew Halle was no match for her and muttered, “Don’t worry, babe. This is all show biz.” She winked at Halle, who flashed a quick smile as acknowledgement.

Halle had learned enough combat techniques for her role as a Bond girl to know how to defend herself while making the struggle look rougher that it was. She just hoped that Barocca wouldn’t transfer any of her animosity toward Tia over to her. They locked up in a crouch and circled, making sure the spectators got an eyeful of Halle’s luscious derriere. Their reaction revealed that they did and they appreciated it. “Don’t let it go to your head,” Barocca joked. “Some of that is for me. Let’s give them some more”

The Brazilian suddenly spun Halle around and locked her into a full nelson, arching her back so her breasts thrust forward. Under the roar from the crowd, Barocca directed, “Grimace so they think I’m hurting you.” Halle complied and the crowd loved it. “You look a little heftier up top,” Barocca observed. “Have you seen a doctor about that?”

“Hooray for Hollywood,” Halle replied through gritted teeth. “Give the public what they want. Now I should put the hurt on you, don’t you think?”

“If you insist,” Barocca conceded. “Clothesline me.” With that, Barocca released the nelson, converted it to an armwhip, and hurled Halle against the ropes. Berry obviously had seen enough TV wrestling because she delivered a perfect clothesline that flipped Barocca up off her feet and down onto her back. Halle capitalized on the situation with a deft legdrop onto the Brazilian that looked lethal but was totally harmless. She converted it to a head-scissors and her victim choked and convulsed convincingly.

Barocca knew her time period was running out and wanted to regain control. She worked herself back onto her knees and pried Halle’s legs from her neck. Grabbing Halle’s hair, Barocca dragged her to her feet, kneed her-for real-in the belly, and while Halle was bent forward, Barocca relieved her of her bright red bra. The audience erupted. Halle instinctively covered her bosom. Barocca repeated, “It’s all show biz, Halle,” and shook her own bountiful breastworks at her. Halle dropped her defenses and rammed her rack into Barocca’s.

As the MC shouted, “Time. Barocca out, CoCo in,” Halle slapped the Bombshell across her cheek. “That’s for the knee, sweetheart.”

Barocca grinned wickedly and hissed, “I’ll remember that for next time.” Sashaying past Coco, Barocca gave her a high-five and climbed out onto the ring apron.

Feeling self-conscious about being the only wrestler still wearing a top, CoCo held her hand up to Halle, reached behind her own back, and undid her bra strings. She shook off the blue bra and kept her juggs jiggling as she tossed the remnant to the crowd. “OK, Halle. I’m ready to resume.” They circled each other like feral cats, giving the spectators a chance to settle down.

If Halle was wondering whether CoCo would follow Barocca’s lead and fake most of her holds, any doubts were dispelled the instant CoCo clamped on a headlock, bulldogged Halle’s head against the turnbuckle pad, rammed her again, and applied a figure-4 leglock on the flattened film star. It all happened so fast. Who knew CoCo was such a wildcat? Certainly her earlier phony fracas with Tia gave no such indications. But Berry was far too busy writhing in agony to contemplate these mysteries.

CoCo cranked up the pressure until Halle would have sworn her knee would shatter. Austin released the hold but kept hold of Berry’s tortured leg, lifting it vertical and slamming her heel repeatedly against the back of Halle’s knee. Grinding her teeth against the pain and vowing to ignore it, Halle swung her good leg high and connected with her tormentor’s jaw. The blonde cartwheeled across the ring to crash into the opposite turnbuckle pad and collapse onto the mat.

Berry tried to stand but couldn’t, her leg unable to function. She dragged herself over to her folded-up foe and stretched her out on the mat. CoCo was beginning to stir, so Halle chopped a double axhandle hard onto her belly. Austin lurched with a loud “Oof!” and remained sitting, cradling her aching abs. Berry swung her clasped hands like a bat smack into CoCo’s face and the blonde went down again.

"The agonized actress flopped across Austin’s inert form and hollered out, “One…two…three…four…five!” Then she rolled off CoCo and shoved her under the ropes, off the edge of the platform, and onto the lawn. Gasping, Halle grabbed the ropes and pulled herself up. She stood on her remaining good leg and hopped-limped toward her corner. The spectators were on their feet cheering Berry for her devastating demolition of CoCo Austin.

Halle was obviously in no condition to continue, so the MC helped her out and called Tia and Barocca back into the ring. Then he quickly fled, busying himself with reviving CoCo. The brunette beauties met at center ring, hands on hips, staring each other down. Carrere foolishly leaned forward, bumping her bust against Barocca’s clearly more formidable upper balcony. With a snort of derision Barocca could only shake her head at Tia’s pathetic attempt to compete with her on that level.

Clearly outclassed, Tia clamped her claws down tightly on her opponent’s opulent orbs, digging her nails in with a vengeance. Barocca’s legs buckled and she howled with anguish as Tia’s talons pierced her tender breast flesh in several places. Grinning maniacally, Tia bore down even harder, and Barocca sank slowly to her knees, at the mercy of her nemesis. Blood trickled from a few of the spots where Tia’s nails had punctured her skin. Tears trickled from Barocca’s eyes and she gasped in her efforts to avoid screaming.

Attempts to pull away only encouraged Tia to tighten her grip and twist the tall tigress’s tortured titties. In desperation, Barocca drove a rock-hard uppercut deep into Tia’s crotch. Tia shrieked and jumped back, relinquishing her hooter hold. Barocca tipped forward, now on all fours, still gasping, her head hanging low. With an unsteady gait, Tia stumbled back toward the vulnerable vixen and swung a kick at Barocca’s head. But the Brazilian was expecting something like that and blocked the assault with her raised forearm. The momentum knocked her onto her side and she rolled gracefully back onto her feet.

Now it was the stripper’s turn to show off some fancy footwork. She forcefully planted the flat of her foot onto Tia’s melons, bowling the brazen brunette onto her back. A belly stomp followed, as another one would have if Tia hadn’t grabbed the Bombshell’s descending foot and twisted her off balance. Barocca fell toward the ropes but Halle reached out and caught her before she could go all the way down.

The next sensation Barocca felt was the dropkick Tia launched at her back. The Brazilian smashed against Halle and knocked her off the platform, landing on the MC, who had just finished bringing CoCo back to consciousness. Now it was the MC who lay there out cold. CoCo was untouched by any of the multiple collisions. Halle’s leg had begun to function again, in a fashion, and she got back on her feet to climb back onto the platform.

Meanwhile, back inside the ring, Tia was having her way with the groggy goddess. Barocca’s blood had dripped onto her gleaming white thong, giving it a grotesque polka-dot effect. Everyone was further amazed when Barocca wiped at it and the blood dripped off, leaving no stain. And a good thing, too, because Carrere blasted the Bombshell square in the nose and started a strong gush of blood flowing. That punch sat the black beauty down hard on her delicious ass with a plop that would have been comical if it weren’t so painfully real. She rashly shook her head to clear it, but succeeded only in flinging blood in a wide arc.

By now CoCo had returned to the ring apron outside her corner and shouted encouragement to Tia. Tia didn’t really need any. She had hoisted Barocca back to her feet and then lifted the Brazilian about chest high for a short bodyslam. Had she fallen from a greater height, Barocca would have been out for the count. Tia thought she was and dropped onto the groaning sex queen for the pin, but Barocca bumped her off with a great effort.

Halle tested her damaged leg, going so far as a deep kneebend. It still hurt, but she could use it again. Barocca and Tia were circling again. When the Brazilian got close to Halle, she reached out for her and said, “Time. Get out and I’ll take over.” Barocca was in no mood to argue and welcomed the relief Berry offered.

“So, you’re running out and leaving me with that wimp, eh Barocca?” Tia spat. “This ain’t no Bond flick, baby. No stunt doubles to take the hard falls for you. It’s the big leagues, and you-” She never got to finish, as Halle buried a fist deep under Tia’s ribs. A kneelift terminated Tia’s taunts and flopped the boisterous brunette onto her back. Halle took a slow lap of the ring, giving her leg a chance to work out its kinks, while keeping a keen eye on Carrere. Tia arose and the combatants locked up briefly before Tia spun Halle into a twisting armbar that immediately brought Berry down on one knee.

Tia spun another full circle, tightening up on her victim’s mangled arm muscles. Tears silently seeped from the corners of Halle’s eyes but she denied Tia the satisfaction of hearing her cry out in pain. Bored, Tia yanked the actress’s arm and kicked her in the armpit to release the hold. Halle rolled onto her feet and shook out her arm to restore the circulation. Carrere took advantage of Berry’s numb arm and aimed a kick at her midsection. But Halle stepped aside and Tia’s foot shot through the ropes, leaving her awkwardly straddling the black-clad barrier within Barocca’s reach.

And reach she did, socking Tia in the eye. The brunette yelped and leaped away, but her injured eye was already beginning to swell shut. Halle hooked her arm around the half-blind hellcat’s throat and tightened it to cut off Tia’s air. The gasping glamourpuss gagged and coughed and clawed at the constricting arm, but to no avail. Berry’s eyes blazed with sadistic glee as she continued dragging Carrere backwards. Tia’s legs became limp so Halle sat herself and her victim down and wrapped her Python-like legs around Tia’s waist. She choked and scissored the gilded girl while Barocca shouted encouragement from her corner.

But Tia was far from unconscious and managed to pivot them both onto Berry’s back. The relatively inexperienced Halle lost her grip-both of them-and Carrere rolled out of harm’s way. Her legs were still a bit rubbery when the actress confronted her again, but she summoned up the strength to belt Berry with an uppercut to the jaw that rattled her long enough to allow Tia to press her razor-thin advantage. A belly punch folded Halle and staggered her back a few steps and a roundhouse right spun the stunning star into the far corner.

And into the clutches of CoCo. The busty blonde owed Berry a beating for throwing her out of the ring. She caught the black beauty in a choke hold identical to the one with which Halle had tortured Tia, except that Austin applied it from outside the ropes. While Halle gasped and writhed under CoCo’s crushing force, Tia amused herself by punching Berry’s belly and boobs. Carrere was correct: nothing she’d done in that Bond film had prepared her for this sort of double-team abuse. As Halle’s head started to swim, she could hear the crowd screaming and yelling, but she couldn’t make out for whom they were rooting.

With all the attention riveted on the mayhem taking place in CoCo’s corner, no one had noticed that Barocca had completely vanished. That is, not until the Brazilian Bombshell re-emerged from the inky darkness and jumped onto the ring apron right behind the blue-bikinied blonde. Barocca brought two judo chops down on each side of CoCo’s neck from behind. Austin and Berry both hit the mat with a single thud. Tia’s punch was already on its way when her target dropped out of harm’s way and the fist shot into the turnbuckle pad. The golden girl thought she’d broken her knuckles and cradled her right hand in agony as Halle slowly gathered up her aching ravaged body. Meanwhile, Barocca grabbed a generous handful of blonde hair and hauled CoCo into the ring.

The Latina lifted the smaller woman off her feet for a crushing bosom-to-bosom bearhug, bending CoCo’s spine painfully backward in the process. Bouncing Austin slightly at first then with increasing vigor only amplified her anguish. CoCo cried out in pain. Behind Barocca, Halle meted out a series of punches that would have polished off Tia if only they’d had a bit more power behind them. As it was, Halle kept Tia busy defending herself, but simply couldn’t put her adversary away for the final count. Carrere realized that Halle was almost played out and tried to keep her distance.

In desperation, CoCo clapped hard on both sides of Barocca’s head and the strong stripper released her hurtful hug, her ears ringing. Austin buried a fist deep into the black beauty’s bazooka, followed by a sharp kick to her crotch. The latter sank Barocca to her knees and put her at CoCo’s mercy…of which there was precious little. The blonde clamped a forward chancery on the brunette and kneelifted the rising wrestler repeatedly, satisfied with the pained grunt each blow elicited. Barocca grew limp from this punishment and CoCo couldn’t keep holding her up. She let the Bombshell sag to the mat and keel over onto her back, a defenseless target CoCo couldn’t resist.

Mimicking a move from TV wrestling, Austin mounted the middle rope in the nearby corner and launched herself at her flaccid foe. She aimed her cocked elbow at Barocca’s coconuts with the clear intention of eliminating the busty Brazilian from the rest of the evening’s extravaganza. And she would have, too, if Barocca hadn’t darted away at the last moment, leaving CoCo to land heavily on her elbow, sending an agonizing spasm down the entire limb. With a smug smirk, Barocca strolled back to the writhing wreckage that had been CoCo Austin, dragged her to her feet, and spun her easily high off the mat and down onto the Bombshell’s bent knee for a devastating back-breaker.

A loud groan marked the end for CoCo, who went limp instantly. Barocca used her bare foot to nudge the battered blonde to the edge of the ring platform and onto the lawn. Then she turned her attention back to the slugfest that raged in the far corner. Tia had trapped Halle in that corner and was punching and stomping the Oscar-winner with renewed vigor. Berry had managed to open a small cut inside Carrere’s mouth, and blood trickled from its corner. But the veteran Tia was able to withstand far more than the amateur Halle could dish out. Berry was sinking to her knees and after two more hooks just below her ribs, Tia finished her off with an armwhip through the ropes. Taking a deep breath, Tia scanned the ring to see Barocca eying her with a hungry stare.

Wiping her bleeding mouth with the back of her hand, Tia grinned back. “OK, Barocca, it’s down to just you and me. The wannabes have been eliminated.”

The Brazilian Bombshell nodded. “As much as I hate to give you any credit, Tia, I must admit you were right about one thing. I very much envy your inclusion in Stone Rage’s Hall of Fame. That honor should be reserved for only the best-like me. And after I finish with you here tonight, my legions of fans will have no choice but to elect me to that honor.”

As if on cue, both bruised babes straightened their backs and thrust their voluptuous breast forward in a defiant gesture of mutual disdain. “You’ll never get past me, you cheap cunt,” the Hawaiian honey snorted, stepping cautiously to her left.

Also circling clockwise, Barocca puckered her full lips and made a loud kissing noise. “Not past you; I intend to climb over you, you Hollywood whore.” The exchange of pleasantries concluded, the she-cats leaped at each other with audible snarls.

For the first few moments it was all clawing and flailing, their bountiful breast quickly displaying long red welts. Barocca reached down and clamped a vise-like grip on Tia’s pussy, grinding her clit as hard as possible against her mound. Tia shrieked, cocked her right arm, and belted Barocca on her left cheek. That whirled the white-thonged wildcat like a top, stopped when she encountered Tia’s follow-up left hook to her jaw. Barocca stumbled against the ropes, her head still spinning. The brunette planted a foot solidly into the Brazilian’s flat belly and drove the wind from her lungs. Barocca plopped down on her luscious tush, gasping for breath. Tia iced the cake with a sharp kick to her victim’s pussy and Barocca coiled up in agony.

Grabbing a double handful of the stripper’s hair, Tia hoisted her to her feet and whipped her into the ropes. She caught the rebounding wrestler with a fist to her lower abdomen and Barocca again crashed to the mat. “On your feet, bitch,” Carrere commanded, again using the Bombshell’s hair as a handle. She repeated the whip into the ropes, varying the end with a clothesline that rotated Barocca clean off her feet and onto her back with a thunderous bang. This temporary ring lacked the usual suspension system and padding of a regulation ring and these crash landings took their toll on the beleaguered Brazilian.

Tia figured strike three was coming up and that would put Barocca out once and for all. She hair-whipped the black babe into the ropes for the final time. Barocca bounced off and Tia leaped up for a dropkick that would demolish the demonic doll-if Barocca hadn’t clung to the top rope. Carrere’s kick didn’t connect but its momentum propelled her halfway through the ropes. Tia’s midsection got hung up on the middle rope with her feet flailing helplessly outside. The Brazilian staggered over to her tormentor and locked her neck in an excruciating scissors. Hanging onto the top rope, she bounced up and down to further aggravate her prey.

Tia cursed like she was auditioning for a part in a Martin Scorsese crime film. But most of her venom was lost in Barocca’s meaty thighs and the howls from the spectators. Then Barocca pushed herself against the ropes and let the resulting slingshot effect bounce her and Tia back into center ring. The scissors broke, but the Bombshell converted it into an impromptu figure-4, with Tia’s face pressed against her fragrant pussy. The exotic dancer grabbed Tia’s golden thong and yanked hard, wedging the miracle fabric deep into Carrere’s labia.

Tia struggled to her knees but Barocca maintained the lock. Despite her opponent’s efforts, Carrere finally got to her feet, leaving Barocca dangling from Tia’s neck with her shoulders resting on the mat. Now it was her turn to bounce the Brazilian loose. As soon as the lock broke, the Asian Amazon flipped the stripper onto her back and folded her into a Boston crab, putting all her weight onto Barocca’s legs. But the supple dancer, who could easily hook both her legs behind her head like a contortionist, wasn’t suffering as Tia had intended.

The hapless Hawaiian gave up the crab but stomped the Bombshell’s belly as a parting gift. Barocca somersaulted backward and onto her feet and the vicious vixens circled each other again. This time they locked arms and grappled for any advantage, Tia pinned Barocca into a corner and drove a knee up into her left jugg. The Latina backhanded the Asian back a step and topped that off with a belly punch. The two tigresses traded punches to every part of their bodies for a full minute before Tia faltered. Sensing the kill, Barocca reached deep within herself and summoned up the strength for a shattering uppercut that knocked the battered brunette out on her feet.

She caught the falling star, scooped up her limp body, and slammed her to the mat. Barocca flopped on her fallen foe, hooked Tia’s leg, and gasped out the 5-count. Then to the roar of the audience, the Brazilian took hold of Tia’s hair and dragged her on her ass to the edge of the ring platform before dumping her body onto the lawn. The crowd screamed louder, if that was possible. The conquering coquette took a slow lap of triumph but was too exhausted to try to make out what the crowd was shouting.

That’s why Barocca was so surprised when CoCo spun her around from behind and punched her square in the nose, restarting the flow of blood and rolling her toward the corner. The big-bootied blonde had come to and wanted to settle her score with the strung-out stripper. She pounced on Barocca and pounded her with fists. There wasn’t much force behind the blows, but by now Barocca was too badly beaten up to appreciate that. The Brazilian retaliated by spreading her fingers and sinking her claws as hard as she could into Austin’s awesome augmented hooters.

CoCo screamed and repaid in kind. Barocca bore down and Austin soon gave up her grasp. The Latina’s right cross dislodged the blonde. Barocca crawled over to the writhing beauty and dug her talons into CoCo’s luscious ass, leaving long red welts down her cheeks and thighs. CoCo immediately regretted returning to the ring but there was no chance for escaping her fate. Barocca wearily sat on Austin’s back, grasped her by the chin, and pulled her into camel clutch until CoCo swore her spine would shatter.

The Brazilian mercifully let go and rolled CoCo onto her throbbing back. She laid her foe out spread-eagle and then spread herself on top for a full-body pin. Barocca seemed to particularly enjoy bearing down belly-to-belly, tit-to-tit, nipple-to-nipple, with the curvaceous cutie.

It was all Barocca could do to raise her arms in victory before stumbling out of the ring and disappearing into the darkness on her way back to the mansion. She looked like shit: her hair sweaty and stringy, her face bloodied, her body bruised and bleeding, every joint screaming with pain, even her feet hurt. The only part of her that wasn’t the worse for wear was her white thong. It looked as fresh as when she first wriggled into it what now seemed like a lifetime ago. “I wish I were made of this stuff,” she thought, “whatever it is.” Reaching the door, Barocca stepped inside and crumpled to the carpet in a heap. This time the price of victory was very high indeed.

Welcome to the Hall of Fame Barocca - You deserve it!