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Wanted Dead or Alive	By : Unaplicable Category: +A through F > Dead or Alive Views: 5957 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own the Dead or Alive Franchise or any of the characters in the games. I do not make any money/profit from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
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A black PVC-like overcoat formed to every lovely curve of Tina Armstrong’s lush young body. The shiny plastic material was studded and was tailored slightly too tight to the shape of her slim torso. Pinching around her waist, was a PVC material in red and black with the same studded fashion, clearly part of a matching set.
The pants looked like they were vacuumed packed onto the Texan’s sublimely muscular legs, and showcased the changing ripples of muscular from Tina’s sculpted slender calves and long muscular thighs. Tina had unfastened her overcoat, with only a studded wrestling belt with a golden M buckle keeping the sides together. The result was Tina’s glorious striated, yet still wonderfully slim feminine six-pack. Her overcoat labels were peeled far to the sides by the bronzed expanse of Tina’s chest; full, natural, triple-D cup breasts. They were encased in a red and black studded bikini top, and would certainly give any fortune onlooker a mouth-watering glimpse of the Texan’s cleavage displayed by the plastic push-up bra.
She was several inches taller than Sayuri, about 5’8”, and probably weighed nearly twenty pounds more, every ounce of that was muscle.
Tina was certainly built to scale, almost amazon-perfect hourglass curves. The gorgeous bombshell possessed a thick bubble-ass, long muscular legs, smoothly striated abs, and a luscious natural rack that made nearly every other girl’s tits appear less attention-grabbing than usual.
The crowd watched in rapid attention, as black PVC was shrugged up and over her shoulders by herself, there was a hushed silence as the business men were granted a mouth-watering view of flawless bronzed skin. Tina allowed her overcoat to slide down her sleeky muscled arms, however her gilded wrestling belt clinched tight enough to her slim torso that it prevented further slippage. Unclipping the belt and letting the labels spread to the side, Tina then shrugged it off completely catching it smoothly with one hand and displaying it to the crowd like an offering.
Smirking, Tina dropped the coat on the canvas and stood in a domineering pose, with her hands on her flaring hips. The twenty four year old Texan was utterly confident in her own strength and her ability to take down a member of her own sex. She had been training in professional wrestling for many years, and had developed a figure worthy of the Women’s Wrestling Superstar. Tina’s opponent seemingly possess none of the world renowned strength of the all American beauty.
The Texan’s opponent was opposite to Tina in figure, ethnicity, and martial prowess. Where Tina was blonde, her adversary was raven-haired, where Tina was almost an amazonian in femmine musculature, she was girlish in her subtly toned body.
Tina had a trim and powerful frame, with thick, flexing thigh muscles, striated feminine six pack abs, and well-toned defined arms and shoulders. No matter how well-developed Tina’s muscular level was, the Texan retained her feminine, hourglass curves, which were clearly on display thanks to her skintight black PVC pants and matching bikini bra. Her short, honey blonde hair allowed the graceful lines of her jaw to flex as a superior smirk spread across her pink lips. Tina was certain that Sayuri sensed how a formidable opponent she was in a fight, hoping that this would weaken her determination.
And while Tina’s glorious triple D-cup breasts that were often a point of physical pride for the Texan, between the two beautiful opponents, they actually appeared far less mouth-watering in comparison. Sayuri’s breasts were a definite challenge for Tina, at a sublime F-cup, 98 inches of pure alabaster tits. Tina could even discern the Asian girl’s bubble-gum pink areolas peaking up beneath Sayuri’s white frilly bikini top.
Glancing down, partly to check her own breasts for slips, and partly to reaffirm her own lush desirableness, though that was something she would never admit to. Tina saw that her own sun-bronzed cleavage bulging over the top of her low-cut PVC top, after deftly tugging her bikini top back up and quickly surmising they were still plenty large enough to turn any man’s head she wanted. Looking back up, Tina saw her beautiful opponent blushing. Sayuri was pressing her legs together in embarrassment, and though her modest was protect by white silk, she still covered up her breasts with her forearm.
Tina took a moment to judge her competition. In a match she would undoubtedly win, though in a beauty contest Tina would defiantly have her work cut out. The Japanese girl was quite a beauty; at 5’3’’ tall and weighing in at a hundred and twenty pounds. Sayuri must have been the definition of voluptuousness. Her breasts were an F-cup teardrops, Tina couldn’t help but notice with annoyance how they jiggled on her chest from her laboured breaths. Deep black hair fell to her shoulders in a glossy mass, her eyes were a mesmerising shade of green.
She must have been even more voluptuous than Honoka, with luscious alabaster thighs and firm hourglass hips. Sayuri’s bikini was an elaborate creation of white silk and frilly details, like some sexy nurse Houston Halloween outfit. The bikini was decorated with so many bows and white lacy ensembles that Tina would have thought it innocent. If not for the overabundance of stark white Asian skin. Sayuri’s costume bared her belly for Tina’s scrutiny; Sayuri’s belly was sublimely girlish.
Sayuri’s eyes were drawn to the American’s sculptured feminine six-pack, in awed by her limber contours and bronzed hue. Sayuri couldn’t stop the twinge of jealousy as her green irises roamed over Tina’s striated six pack, Sayuri herself barely had a dividing line of musculature. Her jealousy only grew when Tina flexed her striated abs in a show of force, Sayuri shuddered, and she had no idea how she was supposed to overcome such a picture of statuesque beauty. The American was now slowly circling around her, like a lion toying with some terrified antelope, while she stood trembling like a doe. A playful smirk was spread across the American wrestler’s pouty pink lips, her sapphire blue irises held her gaze unflinching as she flicked a lock of short honey blonde hair behind her ear.
Tina began to slowly circle the Japanese girl, falling into a loose stance; her arms up and balancing on her toes. Tina watched the Japanese girl put up her arms in a weak amateur defence, more to cover herself up than project any wrestling skill.
“Watashi o kizutsukenaide kudasai!”. Sayuri squealed as Tina leaped forward. Colliding with the Japanese girl, Tina wrapped her legs and arms around her torso, blindingly quickly, and pulled her to the ground. Ending on top with her full breasts pressed down against Sayuri’s face. The two beautiful young wrestlers rolled on the floor, locked together in an embrace, Sayuri squealed helplessly as Tina dominated her voluptuous body with her own perfectly toned curves.
It was clear who had won, not that there was any competition to begin with, Tina’s sculpted physique flexed as she slowly applied pressure and stopped the constant writhing from Sayuri’s shapely limbs.
“AHHHH, YAMETE!!”. Sayuri nearly begged.
“Sorry, hun. Ungh. I don’t speak Japanese”. Tina wanted this match to be short n quick; when she had first learned who her opponent was she had almost laughed. Sayuri didn’t have any experience in professional wrestling, she looked like she hadn’t any skill in fighting at all. Still the Texan didn’t want to hurt her.
Shifting slightly up, so her arms were now looped around the Japanese girl’s slender throat and her finely muscled thighs were now locked around Sayuri’s barely-toned slim belly. Tina grunted with exertion as she squeezed and clenched with overwhelming strength, all the while Sayuri gasped and struggled within Tina’s inescapable leg hold.
“Aaaaaeeeee!!”, Sayuri let out a shrill squeal as the Japanese girl’s eyes bulged.
Yet again during her arrival at the arena, Sayuri was panicking as her lungs were crushed until every breath escaped her unbidden. Her anxiousness only rising, she was utterly overpowered by Tina’s far exceptional physical strength.
“I don’t wanna’ hurt ya, I know those sick fucks are fixin’ for a fight. *gasp* J-just tap out girl”. Tina whispered in Sayuri’s ear. Beads of sweat formed on her forehead and small chin, she had stopped squirming now, and tentatively listening to Tina’s every word.
Sayuri’s whole body trembled, she knew the truth, and the roaring degenerate crowd would never let her go that easily. She had seen that with some of the other women, escorted below Itagaki Towers into the labyrinth of laboratories and interrogation rooms, she couldn’t imagine what had been done to them. Many of those women were much stronger than her, their toned muscles and their athletic bodies. She had no choice, she couldn’t lose.
The curvaceous Asian peered up at Tina through a wild and dishevelled jet-black mane, tears welling up and spilling in two streams from her sparkling green eyes. Sayuri’s breathing quickened to an anxious pace, as her chest heaved in parallel breaths. Inadvertently thrusting her glorious F-cup breasts out for the jeering crowd and Tina’s inspection.
“Can’t”. As Sayuri began it was clear to Tina that she knew little of the English language’s vocabulary, Sayuri’s thick Japanese accent was a far cry from her Texan drawl and made even the most basic word hard to get. “Men drag you”. Sayuri irises flicked up nervously to the crowd of spectators, as if she was afraid of being overheard. “They Yami!”.
Then something distracted both of them; an image flashed on the giant wall-mounted screen at the end of the room, a zoom-in of Sayuri’s torso. Her glorious F-cup breasts slick with rivulets of perspiration trickling over their heavenly alabaster curves. Her sweat had damped her frilly bikini top, until it was almost translucent. A cacophony of cheers and cat-calls erupted from the crowd as the paying members were given an clear view of Sayuri’s slender torso, the overabundance of her teardrop shaped firm tits, and above; Sayuri’s flushed embarrassed features. Tina saw her own arms flexing with sleek musculature locked tight around the Asian girl’s slender throat. Bronze against pale white.
“Damn hon, those men are lovin the show”. Tina comment, though the Texan couldn’t help but feel a stab of pity for her adversary as she blushed and looked away. The Japanese girl looked utterly humiliated as she squirmed to preserve even the tiniest bit of modesty, however, Tina’s unstoppable leg lock had her pinned to the canvas.
Sayuri began to squirm and struggle with renewed ferocity as her humiliation continued, the gaijin seemingly offering Sayuri’s body as a sacrifice, weren’t all Americans inertly selfish? Her whole body was writhing; her arching repeatedly, Sayuri’s slim girlish belly stretching attractively. Her long wonderfully feminine legs kicked out as if in a teenage tantrum, the womanly thickness of her thighs flexed and slender calves clenched as Sayuri desperately fought against Tina’s incredibly powerful legs. Sayuri saw absolutely no escape from Tina’s crushing quads and hams, Sayuri found it hard to look away from the flexing muscles rippling across the plains of Tina’s thighs.
Sweat was beading across her whole body now; it gleamed as droplets on her squirming belly, it fell in rivulets down her lush pale white cleavage, moistening her colossal breasts. Perspiration fell off her luscious white thighs, every square inch was now drenched in sweat, like dew on grass. Sayuri did the only thing she could think of; reaching up, she grabbed Tina by the back of her neck, burying her fingers in Tina’s glossy blonde hair. Sayuri then quickly pulled her down into a desperate, yet deep kiss.
Tina moaned as Sayuri’s pouty mashed into her own, the Asian’s glossy lips sucked and rolled over the wrestler’s and her small tongue pushed into her mouth and fought against Tina’s tongue in a lewd battle. The sheer sleaze of the wet noises from all of the bubbly spit-swapping.
Oh God, Tina thought, as Sayuri’s pouty lips continued to smack against her own, their surprising make-out punctuated with wet lewd smacking. Regardless of Tina Armstrong’s growing jealousy for the Asian and insurmountable desire to prove that she was the superior woman, both in physical beauty and her own skills at wrestling. Unwittingly Tina’s leg lock had begun to loosen, her sculpted muscles slowly relaxing around Sayuri’s slim belly. The impeccable alabaster skin of Sayuri’s tenuously toned torso was flushed red from the Texan’s crushing leg lock. Still kissing Tina, Sayuri subdued her embarrassment and thrusted her small pink tongue in-between Tina’s lips to entangle with her tongue. The young Japanese woman was able to lift her legs up and pressed them together at a right angle to her body. There was a leer from the crowd as were granted a clear view of Sayuri’s sublimely thick thighs as she doubled her body over and held them up. Japanese business men roared their approval with cat-calls and shouts that made Sayuri flinch with humiliation, as the subtle quads and thick athletic hams flexed and rippled with soft curves of musculature.
The wall-mounted screen panned down to show her full, heart-shaped ass and flaring womanly hips that rippled, their Asian white complexion glistened with sheen of sweat in the low overhead lights.
“Hey, what do ya think your doin’ girl?” Tina accusing drawl came too late as Sayuri kicked out above with a quickness surprising for someone with her voluptuousness. Almost as quick, Tina’s arms shot down to cease her slim waist, though they only gripped soft white silk.
Riiiiippppp.
In a moment Tina had rolled back onto her feet in one smooth motion and was holding her opponent’s frilly white bikini top in her left hand.
“Ain’t that a sight for em, huh?” Tina whispered as she caught a glimpse of her small pink nipples a second before Sayuri covered them with her forearm. Nevertheless, Tina saw Sayuri’s perfect tear-drop contours of snow-white breasts. Her F-cup tits were sublimely firm on her chest, resisting gravity in a mesmerizing way.
Sayuri was blushing hard, a warm pink hue colouring the flawless Asian whiteness of her complexion. Her sparkling green eyes diverted away in shame, all she could was tremble as a crowd of horny middle-aged businessmen and one beautiful statuesque American looked on her voluptuous figure.
Tina sighed, she had wanted to spare this girl a prolonged agonizing match. Sayuri’s refusal to simple tap out only meant Tina had to contort the Japanese girl’s body into more painful positions until the girl came to her senses. However, if the country-girl could finish the match quickly then it would be a mercy on Sayuri, wouldn’t it?
“I might could make this easier for you, gal. If y’all listen this time” Tina insisted, her patience thinning. Tina smiled, before balling her fists and charging straight at her.
Pivoting on the ball of her foot, she threw a hard roundhouse kick at her head. Sayuri just managed to duck under it, and was treated to a tantalizing glimpse of Tina’s black PVC-encased ass-cheeks as her high heeled pump swished past her head, missing by millimetres. Sayuri was able to just stumble away, turning into Tina’s body and threw a surprisingly fast right uppercut at Tina’s midsection.
Tina grunted as the blow bounced off her abs, the American seemed genuinely surprised by it. Sayuri even thought she could see a glimmer of pleasure in Tina’s sapphire blue irises.
The Texan grabbed Sayuri’s slender arm and tried to twist it up behind her back, and pulled her down into a headlock. Tina flexed her elbow around Sayuri’s neck. Statuesque Tina Armstrong began to slowly choke Sayuri in a front facing guillotine choke. Sayuri struggled in his grasp and tried to pry her arms loose from around her neck. The Japanese girl could feel Tina’s subtly striated abs and triple-D breasts press against Sayuri’s slender upper back. Tina grinded her sublimely feminine, hourglass curves up against Sayuri’s body. Tina then lifted a long athletic leg up to the small of Sayuri’s back and gave her a vicious kick.
Sayuri was sent sprawling across the canvas, her shapely limb collapsing haphazardly. Tina smirked at Sayuri’s weak body, before unclipping her red and black bikini top.
Tina allowed the crowd to leer over her firm, luxurious, triple-D cup melons as they bounced free, her nipples popped up, fully erect, their light pink aureoles tender-looking, goose-bumped, and about an inch and a half in diameter. The size of silver dollars.
“Now for the grand finale, hon. Gotta give them som’in to remember” Tina’s drawled.
Before Sayuri could even look back, let at least react, Tina cartwheeled, flipped up into the air, and wrapped her legs around Sayuri’s neck. Sayuri squirmed desperately on the canvas, her hands all over Tina’s ass, frantically trying to loosen the grasp that Tina thighs had around her face and neck. It wasn’t long before Tina planted her elbows on top of Sayuri’s head; then she shifted her weight, twisted her torso, and flipped Sayuri head over heels. She landed with a grunt, on his back, with Tina on top.
Sayuri was still prying at her thighs and ass-cheeks in his desperate efforts to break free, Sayuri squirmed around on the floor beneath her while Tina rode her like a rodeo bull, crushing Sayuri’s face between her muscular quads and toned hams. All Sayuri could do as her vision became increasingly dark, was gaze up at the sheen of perspiration on Tina’s sculpted abs and she squirmed and struggled on the canvas mat.
It didn’t take long until every inch of Sayuri’s voluptuous femininity was shuddering in submission, every subtle muscle became wondrously malleable in Tina’s grip. The Japanese girl’s frame, slender with womanly thickness in all the right places twitched as the last drags of her conscious were squeezed out.
Tina glanced up and saw the massive wall-mounted screen, she still couldn’t help but feel sorry for Sayuri as she gasped and squirmed. The hundreds of roaring business men, however, were all but dribbling over Sayuri’s thick, flexing womanly thighs, trim and slender belly, and gracefully slim arms and shoulders. Most of all though were Sayuri’s two perfectly formed hemispheres of pale white flesh that bounced with luxurious buoyancy, her gravity-defying F-cup breasts gleamed under the hot glare of the area’s overhead lights as Sayuri slowly blacked out.
As Tina slowly choked out the young Japanese fighter, she heard the count to ten echoing over the jeers of the middle-aged businessmen, the voice was computer-generated. She felt Sayuri’s body go limp in her grip, her limber muscular becoming wonderfully malleable, and her muscles became soft in Tina’s hands as her world became darker.
The piercing bell echoed around the area, signalling the end of the round, the blonde Texan watched as two slender ring girls ducked under the ring ropes. They were both beautiful, olive-complexed girls, that reminded Tina of her long-tern friend Lisa Hamilton. They were dressed in sportswear of blue, black, and white. It consisted on a bra top that held the girls breasts together in supple cleavages, matching shorts were plastered to her tight rear ends. Tina noticed they had long fingerless gloves that adorned her slender arms as they lifted Sayuri’s recumbent figure of the canvas. Tina’s sapphire irises widened as their fishnet stockings were pulled taut across their flexing long legs.
The two girls grunted as they hauled Sayuri’s voluptuous off.
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Wanted Dead or Alive