Humiliating Restaurant Catfight

My boyfriend is celebrating his birthday tonight. My boyfriend, a group of his friends and I arrive at a restaurant. To my dismay he chose to eat at a place that I consider to be trashy. As we walk through the door we're greeted by several scantily clad females. My boyfriend and his pals grin as I glare at the smiling tramps. We are seated at a large round table and wait for our waitress. You gingerly walk toward us, holding several menus, "I hope you're all having a great evening!" you exclaim. I glance over at my boyfriend, who is practically drulling over you. "We're just fine," I sneer as I place my hand on his arm, clearly identifying my property. You smile and take our orders. All of the men at our table turn their heads and stare as you walk away. As the night continues I proceed to make youre night miserable. I loudly complain about the quality of the food, the service and your looks. You're face grows red but you keep your composure. I gingerly scoot out of my chair and walk to the bathroom to freshen up, satisfied that I've embarassed you. While I'm gone, you bring back our food, tears welling up in your eyes. My boyfriend apologizes to you for my behaviour and explains that it's his birthday and that I didn't approve of the restaurant choice. You pat his shoulder and thank him for the apology. I return from the ladies room to see you touching my man. I stomp toward you, "Get your fat butt away from MY man!" I exclaim. You quickly move away and I take my seat. After an akwardly quiet meal my boyfriend and his pals decide to move toward the bar that's on the opposite side of the restaurant. I impatiently wait at the table as they drink and cheerfully laugh. I notice you balancing a platter of food as you walk to the table behind me. I swing my foot forward as you scurry by, effectively tripping you. The clatter of broken dishes gets drowned out by the loud music and rowdy customers. I can't help but giggle as you slowly push yourself off of the floor. A mixture of salsa, melted cheese and barbecue sauce has splattered your chest, stomach and face. You blush as you get to your knees. "I'm so sorry ma'am, are you alright?" I smirk as I get out of my chair, "I guess it's time for me and my man to leave. I hope the rest of your night goes well."

What restaurant are my boyfriend and I at?

Hooters. You're wearing a low-cut white tank top, orange booty shorts and white shoes.

Tilted Kilt. You're wearing a low-cut white shirt that's tied at your midriff, a red plaid bustier, a red plaid short skirt, white knee-high stockings and black shoes.

I'm a White 23-year-old female. I'm 5'2", I weigh 116 lbs and have long, straight brunette hair. I have a pale complexion, a slim figure and I'm a C cup. I also have a very nice butt! I'm very arrogant, self-centered and I always get what I want. I'm wearing a white Vineyard Vines T-shirt, navy tight-fitting jeans and white converse shoes. How old are you?

What's your ethnicity?

White

Black

Hispanic

Asian

What's your skin complexion?

Pale/Light

Average

Tan/Dark

What's your height?

How much do you weigh?

100 - 110 lbs

111 - 120 lbs

121 - 130 lbs

131- 140 lbs

141 - 150 lbs

What color is your hair?

What is your hair style?

Long and straight

Long and wavey

Long and curly

What is your bra size?

B cup

C cup

D cup

DD or larger

Are there any bets placed before the fight officially starts? Will there be any special stipulations for the loser?

Yes (what will the bet/stipulation be?)

My horrible attitude and blatant attack has pushed you over the edge. As I strut away, you grab my ankle and yank me to the floor. I groan as I land on my chest. What happens next?

I quickly get to my feet and slam my knee into your chest. You let out an agonizing groan as you collapse backwards, cradling your bosom.

We both stand up and face one another you try to slap me, but the sauce on your face has hindered your vision. Your hand misses, allowing me to slap you several times. You fall on your butt, tears welling in your eyes.

You wipe the salsa from your face and lunge at me. You straddle my body, grab a handful of my hair and slam my head against the floor. I scream out as the back of my head repeatedly smacks against the ground.

You get up and kick your foot forward, luckily connecting with my jaw. I fall on my back, giving you enough time to wipe off your face. You proceed to stomp me into the ground.

We both stand up and tug at each other's hair. I squeal as your nails dig into my scalp. You ball your fist up and jab me in the stomach. I gasp for air and cough. You snatch a tall pitcher of ice water from the table beside you and fling the pitcher gorward. I shriek as the ice cold water splashes against my shirt. My face reddens as I look down, my hot pink bra can now be seen through the wet material. I lunge forward,

I tackle you to the ground and claw away at you're pretty face, leaving long red scratches. I latch onto your top, tugging and pulling until the material rips. You gasp in shock as you shield your dainty white bra.

I blast you in the face with my fists knocking you to the floor. I haul you up, bend you over and place you in a standing head scissors. As you slap at my thighs in pain I grab the hem of your shirt and pull it up. I release my hold on you so I can remove your top completely. You shriek in humiliation and frantically attempt to cover your dainty white bra.

I tackle you to the ground and shred your top off. I twirl your top in the air as the men in the restaurant cheer. You stand up, shrug and pose. I scoff at the display, this was suppose to be humiliating for you. I swing my fist at you but I miss. As my body twirls around, you reach inside my jeans, grabbing a handful of my black lace panties and yank up. I shriek as you give me a horrific wedgie.

You punch me in the gut, place me in a headlock and slam me through a door, leading me into the kitchen area. The male kitchen staff stares in disbelief as we scramble through the door. You wrench down on my neck and lead me toward the...

Sink. You grab a pressurized hose and spray me in the face. I scream as the hot water blasts me. I stumble backwards as you grab a spatula and smack me across the face. I groan in pain and stumble toward the door.

Sink. You grab a pressurized hose but I elbow you in the ribs. You release your hold on me and clutch your side in pain. I grab a spatula and smack you across the face. You groan in pain and stumble toward the door.

Fryer. You slam me against the wall adjacent to the deep fryer. I slowly slide down the wall and hit the floor. You grab some tongs, using them to take out several chicken wings. You use your free hand to pull at the neck of my shirt. You cruelly drop the wings into my bra. I wail in agony, quickly leaping to my feet, frantically removing the extremely hot wings.

Fryer. Befpre you can do anything I elbow you in the ribs and slam you against the wall adjacent to the deep fryer. You slide down the wall and hit the floor. I grab some tongs, using them to take out several chicken wings. I cruelly drop the wings into your cleavage. You wail in agony, quickly leaping to your feet, frantically removing the extremely hot wings.

We burst through the door, clawing at each other. You shove me hard and my back slams against the bar. The entire restaurant is now watching us fight, including my boyfriend. The crowd cheers as we tear into one another. You wink at my boyfriend and knee me in the stomach. I double over, gasping for air. You grasp the bottom of my shirt and yank it up over my head. I stand up as the white material obstructs my vision. With my shirt over my face and my torso exposed, you take the opportunity to...

Rain down a series of hard punches, all aimed at my dainty pink bra. With my arms forced in the air, I can't prevent your assault. I eventually collapse on my back, allowing you to remove my shirt completely.

Trip me to the ground. I land hard on my back, with my short still pulled over my head. You clamp your thighs around my midsection, squeezing until my kicking legs slow their movement. You release your hold and rip my shirt off completely.

I slowly get to my feet. You smirk at me, holding my shirt up high. I gasp in shock, looking down at my topless, bra-covered torso. I shriek as my hands instinctively cover my chest. You laugh as my face begins to redden. You toss my shirt to my boyfriend. I lash out and claw at you, but you retaliate by driving your knee up in between my legs, causing me to howl in anguish. My boyfriend begins to cheer. Who is he cheering for?

He's cheering for me. He wants to see me, his girlfriend, win the fight. He encourages me to humiliate you further. I wink at him before sending several knife-edge chops to your chest.

He's cheering for you. He wants me, his girlfriend, to lose the fight. He's tired of my attitude and encourages you to completely humiliate me. You wink at him, push me to the ground and place me in a degrading schoolgirl pin.

As we stagger to our feet I attempt to kick you in the crotch but you slide out of the way at the last minute. My foot instead collides with the underside of a couple's table. The impact of the kick causes their food to fly off their plates. An attractive, young red-haired woman gasps as her bowl of queso lands upside down in her lap. I bend over, holding my sore foot. What happens next?

The woman stands up, shrieking in pain. She launches her fist at my face but I spin out of the way. Her knuckles connect with your jaw instead, sending you to the floor. Before the woman can turn back around, I grab a nearby bar stool, slamming it against her back. As she collapses on the floor, writhing in pain, I latch onto her black skirt, "Oh dear, you have queso all over your cute skirt. Let me help you with that," I smirk, gleefully yanking it down her legs, revealing her green thong and pale backside. I walk over the young lady's prone body, intentionally stepping on her exposed bottom as I approach you. I wrap the skirt tightly around your neck, cruelly choking you.

The fiery red-head launches her fist at my face, her knuckles connecting with my cheek, sending me to the floor. She straddles my waist and rains down a barrage of punches aimed at my C cups. I stomp my feet and howl as my bosom gets pummeled. You quickly run to the kitchen and snatched a bottle of hot chili powder, handing it to the irate red-head. The vengeful young lady opens the bottle, liberally sprinkling it across my jugs. The hot powder quickly adheres to my sweaty skin, burning my tender flesh. I scream in agony, only to have the rest of the contents of the bottle dumped into my mouth. The woman gets to her feet and joins her table as I cough and cry.

Our skin gleams with beads of sweat. We both breathe heavily, glaring at each other, knowing that one woman was one last maneuver away from victory and the other would be subjected to a humiliating defeat. Who wins the fight and who is forced to endure the degradation of defeat? *The endings will be specific to the restaurant you chose.

Hooters - I win. I drive my shoulder into your abdomen, tackling you onto a nearby vacant table. Straddling your waist, I pin your wrists above your head and whisper in your ear, "I think you should get an up-close and personal view of some real hooters!" Your eyes widen in panic as I slowly lower my rack. My warm, soft, sweaty skin connects with an audible smack as my girls create an air-tight seal. Your body violently trashes in horror. I release your wrists only to grab the back of your head, pulling your face even deeper into my cleavage. You kick your legs and slap pathetically at my back as I smother your mortified face. Your movements begin to slow down and eventually your limbs lay completelly still. Your legs give a small twitch as you pass out. I peel myself off of you, stand over your defeated body and crush your inferior bosom with my foot. I sneer down at you. Your beautiful hair and pretty, smiling face from earlier now replaced by matted hair, a ruddy complexion and a coating of tears and sweat masks your dozing face.

Hooters - I win. I cruelly claw my nails across your eyes. You let out a shrill cry and cover your face with your hands. I deviously unclasp your bra and rip it off. You squeal as your hands instinctively cover your boobs. Through tear stained eyes, you see me smirking at you, hoisting your white lace bra as if it were a trophy. I clothesline you to the ground, leap onto a nearby vacant table, leap off and land knees-first on your chest. You scream in agony as my knees crush your bosom. I slide my legs around your torso, placing your torso in a scissors hold, crushing your boobs with my thighs. "Not so proud of your fat, cow udders now, are you?" I grin with savage glee as I compress your boons, flattening them against your chest. You feebly squirm between my legs, moaning in pain. Your flailing limbs eventually lay limp as you pass out. I unhook my legs from your torso and stand up, smirking down at you. I place the sole of my shoe against your dozing face, smiling smugly as I triumphantly raise my arms and pose over your defeated body.

Hooters - You win. Your open pals slam into my bosom, causing me to yelp and stumble backwards into a nearby wall. You grasp my shoulders and stare into my eyes, watching them bulge as my mouth contort into an anguished groan, courtesy of your knee ramming between my legs. You sharply knee me several more times and release my shoulders. As my body begins to slump, you latch onto my hair, yanking me towards you. You pull my body against yours, applying a devastating bear hug. "You really are pathetic!" You sneer, your rack compressing mine against my chest. I gasp as the air is forced out of my lungs. I struggle feebly as your powerful arms crush my body against yours. Soon my flailing arms hang limp by my sides and my head limply drops on your shoulder. You release the hold, allowing my unconscious body to drop onto the floor. You grin as you place the sole of your shoe against my dozing face and raise your arms in victory.

Hooters - You win. I cruelly claw my nails across your eyes. You let out a shrill cry and cover your face with your hands. I deviously unclasp your bra and rip it off. You squeal as your hands instinctively cover your boobs. Through tear stained eyes, you see me smirking at you, hoisting your white lace bra as if it were a trophy. Erupting in rage, you drive your shoulder into my abdomen, spearing me onto a vacant table. Straddling my waist, you pin my wrists above my head and whisper in my ear, "If you wanted to see them, all you had to do was ask." My eyes widen in panic as my face is suddenly engulfed by your jugs. Your warm, soft, sweaty skin connects with an audible smack as your globes create an air-tight seal. My body violently trashes in horror. You're release my wrists only to grab the back of my head, pulling my face even deeper into your cleavage. Eventually my limbs stop thrashing as I pass out. You peel yourself off of me, stand over my defeated body and crush my inferior bosom with your foot. You grin down at me. My conceited, smirking face from earlier now replaced by matted hair, a ruddy complexion and a coating of tears and sweat.

Tilted Kilt - I win. I slam you against a wall, grab a barstool and charge. I sprint ahead, intent on jousting your chest. You let out an agonizing scream as the feet of the barstool completely crush your boobs, compressing them painfully on impact. You collapse on your knees before falling onto your side, cradling your aching chest. I sneer down at you as you cry pathetically on the floor. I yank you up by your hair and drag you near the bar. Your eyes widen in shock and you shriek in horror as I rip off your bra. You instinctively cup your hands over your chest. I take advantage by punching you in the jaw. Your eyes cross as you collapse. I drape your unconscious body across the bar. Your legs limply hang off the front and your bottom sticks up in the air. I slowly lift up your skirt, enticing the rowdy crowd as I uncover your firm butt and white lace thong. I spank you several times in victory, turning your bottom a deep shade of red.

Tilted Kilt - I win. "Ready to go for a ride, bitch?" I sneer as I kick you in the gut and scoop you up for a powerbomb. I have your body hoisted in the air, with your thighs around my head. I reach under your skirt, hook my thumbs under the waistband of your panties and lift you up, giving you a horrific wedgie. You cry out as I slam you onto the bar. I smirk at your spread eagles body and climb on the bar. I stand over your body, facing your feet. I grab your ankles and pull them backwards until your toes touch the surface of the bar, on either side of your head. I straddle your face, pinning your body as it lay bent in half, your thong-clad derriere sticks up in the air for all to see. I give your bottom a hard smack, and sensually sway my hips against your dozing face. "Not so hot now, are you?" I sneer as I contemptuously raise my hands and victorious pose over your defeated, broken and degraded body.

Tilted Kilt - You win. I slam you against a wall, grab a barstool and charge. I sprint ahead, intent on jousting your chest, but at the last minute you slide out of the way, the feet of the stool hitting the wall instead. Without your body to cushion the blow, I ram chest-first into the wooden seat of the stool. As I cry out and clutch my tender bust, you jump to the top of a vacant booth and leap ontop of me, your thighs landing on my shoulders. You flip me backwards onto the floor. Your thighs wrap around my head, forcing my face up your skirt. Your thighs pulse, pulling my face closer and closer toward your womanhood. "Give up now and I'll go easy on you." You grin at me. "Get your fat, cellulite thighs and nasty crotch away from me!" I cringe as I try to pry your legs apart. "Okay, girl. Have it your way." You clamp down even harder. I slap at your thighs, but soon my limbs stop moving. My red face is sandwiched between your thighs and drool begins to trickle down my parted lips onto your legs. You stand up, kick me over and place your foot on my butt as you pose in victory.

Tilted Kilt - You Win. "Ready to go for a ride, bitch?" I sneer as I kick you in the gut and scoop you up for a powerbomb. I have your body hoisted in the air when suddenly you clamp your thighs around my neck. I choke in surprise as you continue to squeeze. I lose my balance and fall backwards, your body weight crushing my chest as I hit the floor. You turn around, facing my feet, and pin my shoulders down with your knees. "As a matter of fact, I would LOVE to go on a ride!" You grin over your shoulder, smirking at my frightened face. You slightly lift the back of your skirt and scoot backwards, planting your thong-clad tush on my humiliated features. You sway your hips as my body bucks wildly. I try in vain to push you off, but you remain seated. My nose is engulfed and my anguished screams are barely audible underneath your hips. Soon my limbs go limp. You peel yourself off of me, place your foot on my crimson face, which to your amusement is coated in a mixture of tears and sweat, and pose victoriously.

If I won, I parade around you defeated, unconscious body. I bend over and begin to tug and rip away at your remaining clothes, tearing the garments from your unmoving body with a savage glee. Once I've ensured that you have been stripped of all of your clothing, I retrieve your discarded top and tie your wrists together. I straddle your waist and lightly slap your cheeks, waking you up from your stupor. You immediately notice your lack of clothing and instinctively try to cover up, but your tied hands prevent you from doing so. I cruelly press your hands above your head, pinning them to the surface of the bar. 'Time to wake up, sleepy head. You didn't think that I was finished, did you?' I giggle as you wiper and pathetically plead. 'Now it's time for some real fun!' How do I further humiliate you?

If you won, you leer down at me as I slowly rise to my feet, my face burning with rage. I try to slap you, but you easily duck and drop to one knee. My body suddenly explodes in agony, from the uppercut you deliver to my groin. My eyes bulge as my jaw drops. My knees bend slightly and my hands wedge between my clinching thighs. You slip behind me, wrapping your arms around my slender waist, and lift me up and slam me down. My crotch ricochets off of your outstretched knee causing me to sail forward and crumple to the floor. I lay on the ground, the side of my face pressed against the cool floor, my lower lip quivering, arms splayed to my sides, my knees tucked under me and my butt thrust up into the air. You kick me onto my back, grab my ankles, lifting and spreading my legs. I frantically wave my hands in mercy as I whimper, "No...please!" You cruelly stomp your heel down several times as I shriek and sob. You scoop my legs up, wrap your arms under my knees, and fall backwards, catapulting me behind you. I land chest-first onto the top of the bar. I'm in a daze as I lay draped over the bar, my legs dangling down. You unbutton and unzip my jeans before tugging them down and yanking them completely off. My firm, alabaster backside is now on full display. My voluptuous cheeks, barely covered by a pair of dainty, see-through, black lace cheeky panties, are showcased to the restaurant. You gleefully give my bottom a hard smack. You devilishly grin at my defeated body as dastardly ideas swim in your head. How do you further humiliate me?

If there was a bet, what are the repercussions for the loser? Does anything else happen during the aftermath of the fight?

Yes, there was a bet/Yes, something else happens after the fight. What happens?

No, there was not a bet/No, nothing else happens.

The fight is over; the victor has gotten their retribution and humiliated their rival. My boyfriend now has to decide who he wants to leave with. What happens?

I defeated you, demonstrating that im obviously the superior woman. He takes me by the hand. Before we leave we straddle you and sensually make out over your defeated body. Once we're satisfied, we leave hand in hand.

You defeated me. My boyfriend, feeling sorry for me, scoops me up and carries me home. You taunt us as we leave the restaurant.

I defeated you. My boyfruend, feeling sorry for you, scoops you up and carries you home. I scream in protest as the two of you leave the restaurant.

You defeated me, demonstrating that you're the superior woman. He takes you by the hand and begins leading you our the door. As you aproach my defeated body my boyfriend stops. He decides to pay me back for all the times that I was a mean to him. What do you and my ex boyfriend do to give me one final dose of humiliation?

Any ideas for my next fight? Are there any special stipulations that you would like to see? *This question is not required.

This poll was created on 2015-12-03 04:23:21 by lmecu060190