Sisters On the Run
By Montrose
Two escaped prisoners find their way


Trash one hick bar, and the cops get all over you.

Amber and Brandi sat in the back of a police car with their hands cuffed in
front, headed west on the Kentucky section of interstate 64. They were being
transported from a local jail to the state pen. Brandi grumbled to Amber,
"Ain't nobody got a sense of humor no more?"

The fight started because a bar owner wouldn't serve Brandi a boilermaker,
citing that she was under age. Amber, like a good sister, stood up for her
little sis and beat the living snot out of that "big, dumb-ass." When the five
men present got involved, the two sisters systematically took them apart. When
a squad car showed up, the girls crippled the two officers in a matter of
seconds. It took two more squad cars, and cops smart enough to draw weapons
from a distance, to get the girls behind bars.

The police paperwork listed them as Amber Thomas, 21, six feet two, 195 pounds
and Brandi Thomas, 18, five feet ten, 160 pounds. Both raised in the eastern
mountains. Both with long, crinkly strawberry blonde hair, green eyes, and
scars on their knuckles. Amber had a tattoo of a flaming skull on her left
shoulder blade. Brandi sported a cupid on her right buttock, pointing his
arrow at her anus.

And now here they were, on the road with just one cop up front. There was a
locked slab of bullet-proof glass between the front and back seats, however.
Amber nodded to Brandi. Brandi coughed hard and leaned forward. "Brandi?"
Amber yelled. "Oh my god! Brandi's chokin' on something! You gotta help!"
Brandi coughed louder.

Had that cop ever seen Brandi give head, he would have been suspicious about
her ever choking on anything. Unfortunately for him, in many ways, he had not
been afforded that privilege.

The driver looked back. He swore, then pulled over. He unlocked and opened the
partition between them. Amber slipped the chain of her cuffs over his neck and
pulled. She dragged him to the back seat, choking him. She clamped his arms to
his sides with her long legs.

Brandi double-fist punched him once on the jaw, snapping his head sideways. He
went limp.

"Hands of stone, sis! That's what you got! Hands of stone," Amber said as she
fished for cuff keys.

Seconds later, the cop was trussed up in a ditch and the two sisters pealed
out, headed west like a double-vision, prison jump-suit wearing, Daisy Duke
wet dream.

Three weeks later, two shapely young ladies lounged on an LA beach. Their
bikinis and sunglasses were freshly stolen from a trendy boutique. (Brandi
chose the classic eentsy weentsy teeny weeny yellow polka dot style. Amber
went with the Tarzan leopard print number.) Their hair was ragged but
flattering; roguish pixie cuts, died black. Some punks in St. Louis had paid
them dearly for their Kentucky prison uniforms and police hardware, but that
money was long gone - bus tickets, junk food and booze.

Brandi lifted her glasses and admired a beefy blonde man walking by. "Say,
good lookin'! How 'bout we hook up?" She drawled.

The man smiled but kept walking.

"Whore," said Amber, not unkindly. "Besides... can't you tell that boy is a
fag?"

"Him?"

"Sure he is. He didn't stop walking, did he? And his speedos didn't get bigger
when he was lookin' at us."

"You got a point, sis." Brandi kept watching him walk down the beach. "I bet I
could convert him," she purred.

Amber laughed. "Little sister, you crack me up! But it's obvious you need to
get laid."

"Got that right." She rubbed her muff. Strawberry blonde bikini spiders
straggled out the sides. They hadn't died their bushes. "I need it bad!" she
moaned.

"As usual." Amber waived a hand dismissively. "Don't worry. We got it all over
these local sluts. We'll bag some business dick tonight. Might as well get
some cash to go with our cocks."

Brandi smiled and relaxed. "That's what I like about you, Amber. Always ready
with a sensible plan."

Two hours of trolling through shops confirmed that it would not be easy to
steal something so big as evening wear, even foxy, skimpy stuff. So Brandi
stood on a corner in her bikini until a car pulled up. It took 3 minutes. "Hi
handsome," she called in through the window. "Ya'll want some head?"

The driver grinned and nodded. Brandi pointed him to a nearby alley. He pulled
in and parked. Brandi reached through the driver-side window and cuddled the
man's face into her cleavage. Amber slid into the passenger seat unnoticed,
grabbed his balls and crushed them in an iron grip. That was Brandi's queue to
bash his head back and forth on the window frame. As he lay bleeding and
unconscious, they took his wallet and keys. Once out of the car, Amber lifted
him onto her shoulders while Brandi opened a dumpster. They dropped him in.

An hour later, his car got a parking ticket.

A few blocks away, the girls used stolen credit cards to buy swank outfits,
enough to last many days. Then they took the cash from the wallet and dumped
everything else into a city trash can. No more paper trail. Their victim might
recover and report them in a few hours.

By then, the ladies were dressed in figure hugging black cocktail dresses, cut
short to show off long legs. They ordered martinis in the hotel bar. The
bartender considered carding Brandi until she sucked him off under the bar
(the place was empty - he was cute - she wanted to anyway).

They were halfway through their first round when Amber pointed to a likely
pair of pigeons. "I'll take the big dark one, you get little blondy."

Brandi nodded. She liked blonds. Besides, the "big dark one" looked to be over
fifty. Brandi had never sexed up anyone older than thirty-two.

The girls commenced to swing their legs on their high stools and giggle
loudly. It worked. Within 40 seconds the men were at their sides. "May we buy
you ladies a drink?" asked the big dark one. He stood six feet three and
weighted around 220 pounds.

Amber put her arm around his ample waist and smiled. "That would be right
friendly. Why don't ya'll come and join us?"

"Don't mind if we do!" He said. His friend, the quiet little blond, stood five
ten and 160 pounds, just like Brandi.

She wrinkled her nose at him and smiled, patting the seat next to her.

"You boys in town for business?" Amber asked as the big dark one ran his hand
up and down her thigh. She let him.

"Sure are," said the man with his hand on her leg. "That's Tom and I'm John.
We're just here for the night. Fly out tomorrow."

"Then we better make the most of it," Amber replied. "I'm Tammi and this here
is my friend Jane."

Brandi glared at Amber. She hated when her sister gave her a boring fake name.
But it was too risky to use their real names. They didn't want some smart cop
matching up names on different police reports.

Fresh drinks were ordered and arrived. "It's a shame you have to fly out
tomorrow..." Brandi leaned on Tom. He wasn't as fast to get flirty as his big
buddy, who by now had one hand all the way up Amber's skirt, fiddling with her
panties under the table.

Tom flushed and smiled. Encouraged, he put his hand on Brandi's knee. Brandi
moved it up to her crotch - no panties. She smiled and batted her eyelashes.
Tom's eyes grew into baseballs, his cheeks turned crimson.

"I'm about ready to turn in," announced John. "Care to join me, Tammi? I'll
make it worth your while."

"Oh, I'm sure you will!" Amber smiled. They got up. "Don't stay up too late,
Jane," she called over her shoulder as they left.

Brandi looked at her blushing victim. She didn't feel like taking all night,
so she took a short cut. She leaned over, fondled his sack, and whispered in
his ear. "I bet I ken swallow yer entire boner without chokin'."

He coughed and spit a mouthful of gin.

"Your room?" she asked, then licked his ear.

Tom nodded. He signed for the tab and they left together.

Up in his room Tom pulled out his wallet. "I... uh... I only have like...
Two... a little over two hundred here..."

Brandi smacked his wallet out of his hands. Her eyes were locked on him.
"Brace yerself, sweet-meat," she growled. "I'm in need!" She leaped on him.

Tom fell backwards onto the bed with Brandi on his chest pulling his shirt off
- ripping it to pieces. "Jane!" he shouted.

"Who?" asked Brandi, panting with anticipation. She spun around and plopped
her bottom on Tom's face. She undid his belt.

"Mph mmmum mph!" he shouted up her ass as she worked his pants and shoes off.

"Use your tongue, sweet-meat," she instructed and slid her pie over his mouth.

Tom put up a fight, but he couldn't move 160 pounds of determined girl off his
face. Brandi was his size and in much better shape. Brandi had him pinned.

"You ain't goin' nowheres until I feel some action down there!" Brandi warned.
Tom gave in and began eating her out. "Oh yeah! Good boy... REAL good boy!"
she groaned.

After she came on his face, Brandi slid down. Tom was supporting a major woody
and she wanted to ride it. Tom was too frightened to put up a fight. When he
saw what she was doing, he didn't want to fight.

Brandi drove from on top - fondling his sack and humping. They came in unison.
That was one of her specialties. A talent.

Then Brandi began to relax, the edge had been taken off her need. Tom, wanting
more, slid up behind her and took her while she flipped through his wallet. He
hammered for quite a while, banging in the direction cupid was pointing.
Brandi took it, grunting, wincing and moaning. Finally, Tom came hard and
deep. He fell on top of her, panting.

Brandi, drenched in salty sweat, pushed Tom onto his back and sat back up on
his face before he could recover. She let his goo drip out of her holes, onto
his lips. Tom began to protest. He tried to wiggle out. "Sorry, baby," Brandi
said. "It's your come. You take it back."

He slung his legs up to kick her off, but she trapped them under her arms. She
had him all knotted up, sitting on his face. He struggled for a while then
gave up and drank come.

Once she felt thoroughly cleaned, Brandi got up. "Good times, Tommy. Good
times," she said as she looked through his wallet some more. "Cute wife you
got - nice rack! Real casabas!" she said looking at a picture. She found an
extra fifty bucks he had hid in a card slot. "Oh Tommy-tom-tom, you were
holding out on me?"

Tom got up. He looked a little mad. "I've had enough of this," he snapped.
"You can have two hundred, but give me back..."

Brandi slapped him hard across the face. "Hands off my money, boy."

Tom staggered back, looking shocked. He was a thirty-five year old man. He
wasn't used to being slapped and called boy by 18-year old girls. He charged
forward and swung a fist. Brandi ducked the punch and delivered a knee to his
gut in a fluid motion. She seemed to hardly have put any effort into it at
all. Tom crumpled to all fours. Brandi kicked him over on his side.

"Is that all you got, stud?" she asked. "You make a much better lover than a
fighter."

Tom got up with fists raised and tears of pain in his eyes. He still had a
hard time breathing deep. Before he could swing, Brandi landed two quick
punches that he never saw coming. One on his right eye and one on his left.
His head snapped back and forth. He fell to one knee, almost out. Brandi
pushed his head between her legs and caught him in a scissors hold. She tipped
backwards, straight-legged to the floor, driving his head into the carpet with
her ass on top of it.

Tom went limp.

She got up and stuffed his money, drivers license, watch, jewelry and digital
camera (after snapping a few shots of him all beat up with her muff on his
neck) into her handbag. "Thanks for the fuck, Tommy. It was a real nice ride.
Say hello to your hot wife for me." She threw his empty wallet down on him.

Amber made it into John's room with her dress still half on. Once in the room,
he really fell on her, groping her ass and pawing her substantial jugs.

"Easy, big boy!" Amber snarled. She popped him in the gut with an elbow.

John grunted, then smacked Amber in the mouth, hard. It sent her flying
backwards onto her ass. "Just because you're a big girl, don't think you can
pull that shit." He snarled.

Amber got up slowly. She was stunned but still ready for a fight. "I'll pull
all the shit I want, big boy." She flicked a leg up and connected with John's
balls. He fell like a ton of bricks.

Amber slid out of her panties. "I hope you still got some fight left, old man.
Cuz I love a good fight." She dropped and grabbed his head up in between her
legs. She clamped down hard on it with his face in her strawberry blond
snatch.

He moaned and pried at her hard thighs. "Hey, you're a blond!" he observed
from close proximity. His head turned purple.

While she had him trapped, Amber snaked his wallet out of his pants. She
choked him with her legs as she flipped through everything in his wallet. "Two
ugly kids, a fat-ass, bitch of a wife, shitty house... nice pictures, John.
You are one miserable bastard. No wonder you go around poppin' whores when
you're away on business."

"I can't breath," he gasped into her muff.

Amber ignored him and continued with his wallet. She pulled out his driver's
license. "So you're from Chicago! Is it nice there? Cold as shit in the
winter, I bet."

John panted and struggled. He was getting weaker.

"Now let's see what kinda chump change you got in here... just one hundred?
I'm letting you sniff my magnificent strawberry pie for only one hundred
fucking dollars?" She slapped him on top of his head. "Where's the rest of my
money, fat-boy?"

"What money?" John called up.

"The money it will take to keep me from going up to Chicago and telling your
fat-ass wife how much you enjoyed sniffin' my tender clam in this LA hotel?"

"Oh god! Please don't do that! I'll be ruined!"

"So, where's my money?"

"I can get more! I'll get cash! I swear!"

"I want a thousand," Amber said. "No... make it two."

"You got it!" John moaned from her crotch. "Just, please don't tell my wife
anything..." Amber squeezed harder. John yelled. "And please don't kill me!"

Amber stood up. "Okay, big boy. Let's go get my money."

"What? Now?" John asked from his hands and knees. Amber kicked him in the ribs
and he fell to the floor again, gasping.

"When did you think? Get up you stupid fuck!"

John limped to his feet. Amber smoother her dress down and they headed for the
lobby.

While the front desk charged John's credit card for two thousand and counted
the money into Amber's waiting hand, Brandi walked up.

"Why didn't I think of that!" Brandi whined.

"Because you were too busy thinking about dick," Amber replied.

Brandi nodded. "Yep. That would be it."

"Whore," Amber said.

"You're another," Brandi replied. The girls chuckled.

The clerk looked up at John and finished counting out the money. John was
publicly humiliated - a whipped dog - obviously embarrassed.

"Don't be so down, big boy," said Brandi. "You're in the company of the two
tightest cunts in this entire hotel!" They took John by each arm and led him
back to his room.

Amber called room service for booze.

Brandi fucked John's brains out while her sister watched Baywatch. The big man
was very grateful and willingly sucked his come out of her clam afterwards.
"You know," she panted as she came again on his face, "old men aint so bad! I
may take 'em up as a hobby!"

Then Amber smashed John's nuts in with her knees. Nothing made her angrier
than seeing how much fun her little sister had with men. Though they never
talked about it, Brandi sometimes wondered if Amber had unresolved sexual
orientation issues. Or, as it ran through her mind, I wonder is sis is a giant
irate lezbo.

The sisters took the king bed and let John sleep in the bathtub. In the
morning they charged room service for breakfast and left at checkout time.

Outside and from a distance, they saw their alley blowjob victim talking with
police. It was time to leave LA.

Vegas is a town that eats the young and the mean alive. It lives on their
blood. People of good intentions can come and go, but if they come to Vegas to
cause trouble, they will find plenty waiting.

Things started out easy enough. The girls (now with fuck-me-red hair, lips and
nails) found easy pickins among drunk high-rollers around two in the morning.
Together and separately, they took choice victims back to hotel rooms and
fucked and beat and robbed them for over a week, building up a six-figure nest
egg. But then word got out.

Bouncers began to recognize them. They couldn't pin anything on them - the
victims were too embarrassed, or scared, or blacked out from booze, or
sometimes even grateful to rat on them - but the bouncers knew trouble
followed where those two girls went. They were soon banned from the best
clubs.

Alley blowjob hits were too risky. They could have just become honest hookers,
but they had too much pride. It wasn't that they needed money right away. They
just got antsy sitting still.

They sat on a bench in front of a fast food place, munching tacos. A newspaper
blew onto Amber's leg. She picked it up and read it as she ate. "Look here!"
she said.

"What?" Brandi mumbled around her taco.

"There's a place paying girls to fight. Says the winner takes home three
hundred. They make their money sellin' tapes of the matches, I think."

"No shit?" Brandi said. A pair of amazons from a show walked past. "You know,
this aint Kentucky, Amber. The girls here are even bigger than us! Some of 'em
look mean."

Amber watched a couple more walk by. "We could take these cunts," she sneered.
Her nostrils flared. "Their long legs and supple arms don't scare me. Their
smooth skin and ample breasts..." Amber was panting.

Brandi looked at her sister sideways for a moment, then changed the subject.
"Anyone paying girls to fight men? I like that kinda work better."

Amber looked at the paper again. "Uh... Yeah, they got that too." She looked
up and admired the ladies walking by once more.

"That's for me," said Brandi. "I don't want no part of these big bitches.
How's the pay for beating up men?"

"Don't know. Prob'ly good." Amber ripped the paper in two and gave Brandi the
ad for a mixed wrestling studio.

Brandi stepped into a dark front room. The woman behind the desk was pretty in
a fifty- plus way, and very tall. When she stood up, she towered over Brandi.
Another Amazon playboy bunny, Brandi thought. Miss Hooty-Fuck 1975. This town
is crawlin' with 'em!

"Looking for work, honey?" the tall woman asked.

"Is this the place where I can wrestle men for money?" Brandi asked.

The receptionist looked Brandi up and down. "You look like a fit, young thing.
Ever wrestle professionally before?"

"No, but I've kicked a lot of tail as an amateur."

The woman laughed. "That's the spirit. Come with me. I bet we have an opening
this afternoon for a pretty walk-in try-out like you."

She led Brandi through a maze of back hallways to a gym. An older man sat next
to a camera tripod drinking cold coffee from a Styrofoam cup and reading the
race form. "Bert," said the receptionist. "We have a new recruit."

Bert took one look at Brandi and stood up smiling. "A pleasure to meet you,"
he said. They shook hands. As they did, Bert touched Brandi's forearm, her
firm shoulder. He let go of her hand and circled her. He patted her hips, buns
and back. He patted her legs. Brandi began to feel like a horse being traded.
"You wanna look at my teeth?" she asked.

"You're fit enough. Care to show me what you got against one of our sparing
partners?" he asked.

"Bring 'em on!" Brandi smiled brightly.

"Ed!" Bert called. A man, who had been mopping the floor walked over. He was
an inch taller than Brandi and maybe ten pounds heavier. Bert looked at
Brandi. "Think you can take him?" he asked her.

Brandi smirked. "I could mop up this place with him," she said as she slipped
off her shoes, skirt and top. She stood ready to fight; bare save whale-tail
panties.

Bert patted her arm. "That's the spirit. Get out on the mat and show me what
you got."

Ed followed Brandi out onto the mat. "GO!" yelled Bert.

Brandi slammed Ed in the crotch with her foot. Ed hit the mat clutching his
flattened balls. Brandi fell on him.

"CUT! STOP! WHOA!" yelled Bert. "What the hell was that?!"

Brandi looked up, puzzled. "What was what?" Her knee was in Ed's ear, grinding
it into his skull. Ed had both hands on his balls and was gasping for breath.

"With the foot and the testicles and the smashing! You can't DO that!"

"Oh?" said Brandi. She stood up and looked down at the man groaning at her
feet. "Sorry Ed. Wanna try again?"

"He'll be no good for the rest of the day," Bert sighed. "And I had a taping
for him at 3:00."

"I'm really sorry, Mister," Brandi said to Bert.

"Sorry don't make his balls snap back!"

"Oh Bert," the receptionist broke in. "Take it easy on the kid. I should have
told you she never wrestled pro before. She's knew to the game. Just a tough
kid ready to fight - maybe a little eager to prove herself."

Ed moaned in a breathy falsetto.

Bert scoffed, but shrugged. "What am I gonna do? Stay mad forever?" He sighed.
"Let's try again, but take it easy on this next guy, young lady!"

"Yes sir," Brandi promised with a smart salute.

"AXEL!" Bert yelled.

"Axel?" the receptionist turned to Bert. "Really? He's kinda..."

Bert winked up at her. She shut up and shrugged.

From the back of the gym came a hulking young man. He was a six feet five
inches wall of muscle, tipping the scales at 235 pounds. He was covered in
tattoos. The only clothes he wore were baggy shorts laden with chains. Even
though they were baggy, Brandi could make out a sizable bulge in his pants. It
got noticeably bigger when he clapped eyes on her.

"Yummy!" purred Brandi.

"Got that right, honey," said the receptionist with an air of personal
knowledge.

"Axel," Bert said. "I want you to take this girl over your knee and spank the
shit out of her. Make her cry. If you can do that, I'll give you a hundred
dollars." Bert turned to Brandi. "That's for hurting my man, Ed."

"And if I spank him until he cries?" Brandi asked without blinking.

Bert almost laughed, then he saw she was serious. "But your, what... seven
inches shorter... and probably fifty pounds lighter!"

So I would get two hundred?" Brandi asked.

"Fine!" Bert threw his hands up. "But no dirty fighting. Just wrestling!"

"Deal!" said Brandi.

The receptionist pulled Ed off the mat by his ankles. She sent someone to get
him some ice. Brandi and Axel circled each other.

Axel leaped at her. Brandi side-stepped and tripped him, nailing him in the
back with an elbow as he flew past. Axel fell to the mat. Brandi waited
politely. Axel got up rubbing his back and snarling.

"Yer gonna pay, little bitch!" he growled.

"And here I was thinking how cute you are," Brandi replied. "I was gonna take
it easy on you. Now I'm gonna have to show you some manners."

She went in low for a leg take down. Axel fell like a tree. Brandi rolled up
his back and grabbed him in a headlock. She trapped one of his big arms
between her hard legs. She pulled back on his head like she wanted to pull it
off. Axel howled. He flailed around, but he couldn't shake her off. He pounded
the mat with his free fist in frustration.

Brandi twirled up into a Boston crab with the same results. "I saw this here
move on TV!"

"You do it well," the receptionist replied over Axel's screams. "Bert, you
gonna get a camera on this?"

"Christ yes! This will make up for Ed." Bert pulled a young man out of a break
room who quickly got two cameras rolling.

"Come on, big boy," Brandi taunted Axel. "When are you gonna start spanking
me?" She held him until he begged for mercy. She let go and circled him. Once
he pushed himself up onto his hands and knees, she slapped a leg lock on his
neck and fell back, mashing his face into the mat. She kept the scissors on
his neck and chicken winged one arm behind his back. She pulled back on his
elbow just to hear Axel yelp.

"He's big, but he isn't near as fast as she is," the receptionist observed.
"And she has some instincts out there. After she learns a few more moves, she
could be one of your best."

"I see that," Bert replied. "It looks like I'll be out two hundred bucks."

"You'll make it back in no time on that cute little thing," the receptionist
patted his balding head.

Brandi toyed with Axel, crushing and choking him until he was a limp rag on
the mat. She sat on his skull and bounced it into the mat, fattening his lips,
all the time primping for the camera.

"She's a natural." Bert whispered, clutching his receptionists arm excitedly.
"She even knows how to make sure the camera gets a shot of Axel's tortured
expressions."

Eventually, Brandi sat on Axel's back and spanked his meaty ass, hard. Her
hands of stone made ringing smacks bounce off the walls in the big room. Axel
cried for mercy.

Bert finally stepped into camera, "And that's an easy win by our new rookie,
Brandi!" Brandi stood and let Bert hold her arm up in victory as she put a
foot on Axel's back.

"Any words for all your new fans, Brandi?" he asked her.

"Sure!" Brandi drawled. "Ya'll come down to Bert's and I'll do the same to
you!"

"Cut! That's a wrap," said Bert. "Marvelous! Thanks for the plug at the end,
honey!"

Brandi stood with Axel still whimpering between her legs. "I took it easy on
him, Mr. Bert. Is that how you want it done?" she asked as Bert counted cash
into her hand.

"You call that easy? He's humiliated! Decimated! But yes... that's it, honey.
I'll pay you a hundred an hour for all the men you can treat like that in a
day. No ball busting unless they pay for it special."

"Bring 'em on!" Brandi smiled and stuffed the cash into a pocket. "I'll work
overtime for them wages!" She looked down at Axel, then she whispered to the
tall receptionist, "You suppose I could sneak Axel off somewheres and have my
way with him? He looks seriously hung and my need is great."

"Oh he is, honey, he is," The receptionist winked down at her. "I'll help you
carry him into Bert's office."

"My office?" Bert yelped.

"That's what I said," the receptionist stepped up and looked down at Bert with
her hands on her curvy hips.

Bert suddenly got sheepish. "Just checking," he muttered. "I'll take lunch out
on the patio today, I guess. You kids have fun."

Brandi earned five hundred more before going home. Regular customers signed up
weeks in advance for a chance at the tough new girl with the killer curves.
She shot another video and agreed to appear in one a week for a little extra.

That night she met up with Amber in their hotel room. Amber dragged in covered
in bruises and tears. "What the hell happened to you?" Brandi asked, pouring
drinks. Over plenty of pain reducing whiskey, Amber told Brandi her story.

The establishment Amber made her way to, the Ultimate Conquest Palace, was not
for the delicate or squeamish. In taped matches, two women enter a cage and
fight. The winner not only gets the prize money, but also has her way with the
looser, for as long as she likes. And the winners are exceptionally aggressive
and dominant after the fight.

At first, Amber thought she had it made. Most of the women their were less
than five feet eight and 150 pounds. No match for her six feet one and190
pounds. But the first woman they teamed her up against was a big Swede named
Helga the Horrible. Helga stood six feet three and weighed 210 pounds. She was
also a very experienced wrestler.

Helga toyed with Amber, showing her one painful submission hold after another,
but not accepting her submissions - Amber's cries for mercy - until an hour
into the match. That's when Amber learned the price of failure. That big Swede
strapped one on and rode Amber's ass for another full hour. After that she
shoved Ambers face up her butt and made her lick it. Amber alternated between
begging for mercy and begging for more.

After resting for a while Amber got up, her blood boiling. As much as she
loved the intimate contact with other women, she hated to lose. She wanted
another match, but not with someone bigger than her this time. She pointed to
a small Korean girl standing nearby. "Gimme her - the one that looks like a
fuckin' 12-year old!" Amber yelled. "I'll fuck that little flat-head's ass
off!"

It turns out, the "little flat-head" held a black belt in all kinds of sports
Amber never heard of. Before an hour was out that five feet two inch, 110
pound Korean girl was riding on Amber's back and spanking her ass, making her
trot like a pony. She blackened Amber's eyes and pummeled her guts. She made
Amber lick her pie as she scissored her neck. Then she took Amber up the ass
for three solid hours. "Call me flat-head, now! Come on, you top-heavy hick
bitch! Call me flat-head one more time!" she kept yelling as she ass-banged
Amber into a drooling stooper.

"I may never walk the same again," Amber moaned. "They got a whole shed full
of crazy, beautiful bitches waiting to hump my poor ass."

"Then come work for Bert!" Brandi coaxed her. "We gotta take it easy on the
men we wrestle, but we get plenty for doing it, and aint a man alive you can't
lick!"

Amber shook her head and blushed. "I think we both know that, win or lose, I'd
rather be grappling women." There was a moment of heavy silence between them.
"I like touchin' women and havin' them touch me. I even like tastin' 'em. I
love tastin' 'em..." She looked down at her hands. It was the first time she
had admitted it out loud. Nobody talked much about lesbians back in their
small home town. It wasn't a subject you were supposed to bring up, at least
not in Amber and Brandi's dysfunctional family.

Brandi reached over and hugged Amber. "That's cool sis! I hammer enough
sausage for the both of us. Aint no reason for you to be man crazy, too."

"Thanks sis," Amber kissed her sister on the neck. They hugged. They looked
into each other's eyes. They held each other in a warm embrace. Curiosity grew
within both of them as their breasts rubbed. They kissed on the lips,
tentatively at first, then passionately.

"Damn, Amber," Brandi panted. "You kiss real nice."

Amber gently rubbed Brandi's left hooter with her palm, in a circle. Brandi
didn't stop her - in fact, she arched her back and moaned. Brandi initiated
more kissing, even more passionate. They were both panting hard, now.

Then, Amber slid down and poked her face up Brandi's short skirt. Brandi
drifted back and enjoyed the ride.

As they say in Kentucky, "Aint nothing wrong with keepin' it in the family."

So, that is where the Kentucky State Police can find Amber and Brandi, if they
dare look inside Bert's House of Pain and the Ultimate Conquest Palace. Just
be ready to take your lumps when you get there.