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23 July 2011 Claire Danes vs Michelle Williams

Page history last edited by Archer844 12 years, 7 months ago

Claire Danes 10.jpgMichelle Williams 09.jpg

 

 

HISC Boudoir AHW Bout

 

Posted by HISC on 7/23/2011, 7:28 pm




As Natalie and Mila watch from opposite corners of the double king-sized, Portman beaming and Kunis desperately trying to inspire and cajole, the objects of their attention continue to wriggle amidst the rumpled blankets.

Dead center mattress, a lithe, sinewy, and sweat-sheened Claire Danes, clad in a white satin bra and panties, has her victim bound and bleating. Working over multiple attack points in sweet harmony, the D-Train lies on her back, propped up at the elbows, noggin pointed toward the headboard. And between her crossed legs, Claire’s gams locking at the ankles, are the flushed elfin features of Mishy Williams. Danes’ glossy inner thighs press tightly against the beleaguered blonde’s features, Mish decked out in a black teddy and fishnet stockings ending at mid-thigh, the Consortium sparing no expense for wardrobe when it came to such an event for its top stockholders.

Rivulets of sweat course over the blonde’s satiny features, her hazel eyes slitted in pain, Mish enduring the crushing pressure of Claire’s scissors. Her full cheeks flattened, temples pressed tight between the flexing legs of Danes, Mishy mewls out huffing breaths as one of her arms curls around the tightening steel of one of Claire’s squeezing stems. The prying is fruitless, in part because the slowly slackening limb of Williams provides little in the way of resistance, but mostly because Michelle’s opposite arm is tied up at the wrist.

A greedy Claire has Mishy’s left arm stretched high above her head, both the D-Train’s palms wrapped around Mish’s wrist. A squirming Williams tries to rip her limb free and get it back to helping wrench Claire’s legs open, but Danes won’t have it. Multi-tasking, Claire sends another pulse through her twisting tightening gams, sending pinpricks of light into Mishy’s growingly cloudy vision, even while rotating Michelle’s captured wing like she’s trying to unscrew it at the socket.

Mish bucks her pelvis and legs, lifting her lower body off the mattress. Immediately noticeable is a pillowcase, sans pillow, wrapped and knotted around Williams’ ankles, Claire having joined the blonde’s legs as one.

On the “sidelines”, Mila pleads with her partner to do something, anything, but Mishy’s rosy cheeks and the dribble of spittle dropping from the corner of her ‘Cupid’s Arrow’ lips convinces even the little blonde bulldog’s most ardent supporters, tonight will not be hers.

As the fight is slowly drained from Mish by the supremely confident Claire, the blonde growing more limp by the second, her now mattress-bound body, softly writhing, Danes unlocks her ankles, raises one heel, then swings it down like a pendulum into Michelle’s tummy, drawing a breathless ‘OOOOF’ from the ebbing Williams, Mishy’s pink tongue poking from between pursed lips.

Claire grinds the heel into the black lace of Michelle’s teddy and the weakened abs beneath, Michelle brought to a whimper from Danes' effort.

“It’s not your night, blondie,” Claire advises. “Give it up and let these newbies in for Round 2.”

Michelle shakes her head, at least until Claire snakes her legs back around Mishy’s temples, cheekbones and jaw, reapplying the scissors that had taken the action from Danes leading to Danes dominating.

After another dozen seconds of renewed compression, Claire’s supple stems, weapons used with no mercy, send Mishy’s eyelids aflutter, the hazel pools starting to roll white. The blonde’s lightly tanned legs, extended down toward the far away foot of the bed, twitch involuntarily as the last vestiges of consciousness are driven from her.

With one arm already stretched out from her side, Mish’s opposite number gets tossed in the other direction disdainfully by Claire. Danes sweeps some matted flaxen strands off the drained Williams’ forehead and strokes her hair.

“Nice try,” she says, “But you should know better than to get on the bed with me.”

Claire lifts both of Mishy’s arms thrice and they fall lifelessly to the covers each time. Danes then disengages her scissors and peels her thighs away from the greasy visage of the beaten blonde, a slight ripping sound accompanying flesh leaving flesh. She glances at Natalie.

“Now don’t let that b###h tie it up,” she demands.

Rolling out from under Michelle, Claire keeps her grip on the right wrist and drags Mishy’s carcass off the bed, blankets coming along for the ride as Williams’ tush and legs THUMP to the floor.

Claire offers her to one of the attendants.

“The smelling salts are on me, gentlemen.”

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