Chapter 5

The first match of the next day’s Round One contests was not to be missed. Seed 19 Keerthi Kapoor (India) versus Seed 26 Nurul Huda Hitam (Malaysia) and I was there early to see it.

Never before had there been a match like this at the All Asian Sexfight Championships and yet another, to me, suspicious piece of evidence that the Japanese were starting to have an undue influence in their search for the bizarre and outlandish by rigging the draw. It pitted the Indian 38-year-old and World 22 Keerthi Kapoor, 5ft7, 138 pounds, 38D 27 40, wife of a wealthy Industrialist in Calcutta and former ex-Bollywood D, not B grade actress, against the World 39. This was a 30-year-old Malaysian, Nural Huda Hitam who was 5ft2, a heavy 168 pounds, 47DD 45 48 and a newcomer from the division two ranks of poor working women who were picked up by investors in the hope of getting rich via betting.

The Indian had proved over the last 10 years she had an insatiable appetite for sex in any form and the ability to repeatedly cum for a prolonged period. Although too one-dimensional to be number one, given the right event she could beat the number world one more than five out of ten times and she had been victorious at times over the top 3 competitors. Now she was being challenged by a Malaysian newcomer who also had an insatiable sex drive for men, women, machines and toys, and who had publicly stated she was chasing the Indian Keerthi’s reputation as the most receptive woman.

Both women knelt nude facing each other, the giant 47DD tits and huge belly of the Malaysian hanging like meat on a butcher’s rack while the Calcutta woman was already fingering and tasting her own juices. As they waited, they played with themselves while surreptitiously watching the other. The 30-year-old Malaysian was rubbing her cunt juice into her huge tits bringing the thick stubby nipples into full blossom. The older Indian was using a modified vacuum cleaner on her clit sucking her clit in and out until it was swollen to near double its size and so sensitive that it would stay erect for the entire contest.

Two double, heavily modified Sybian machines with their two dildos leaving the vertical saddle at an angle were rolled out and the two women enthusiastically slid the protruding attachments into their arses and cunts groaning with pleasure as they felt the penetrations. When they were comfortable a Japanese-made suction machine - The Arouser - was attached to their nipples and started pulsing them inside airtight cylinders. Finally, each woman was presented with a line of naked men, and they were ready to begin.

In theory, it was simple. They had to take the two dildos attached to the Sybian and which were changed every 30 minutes to a larger size in their arse and cunt, accept the nipple arousal, and make a man cum at least every 15 minutes. Oh yes, I forgot, they had to make themselves cum at least every 10 minutes. Failure on any of the above meant losing. An event only the Japanese and these two women could enjoy, although I must say I had got there early for a front-row seat.

“Ready to go down, bitch, now and later on me tonight,” the Malaysian Nural hissed as she reached for the first man’s cock and started rubbing his thin fuck tube.

“I’m lucky to meet you in the first round because no way you’d make it past that to meet me. Be prepared to swallow everything in your fat belly tonight, slut. Spit, cum, piss and shit; you’re going to take all of mine,” the Indian spat out as she pulled her man’s nose to her already wet cunt so he could smell her aroused sex.

For these two women, the number one title in this competition was now irrelevant. Of course, they hoped to be in the grand final and win but even if they were far too worn out after this event to give their best in the next round, winning this matchup was the most important thing for them in the whole competition.

Both took a male cock in their mouth as the machines started up. Nural’s arse and cunt swallowed both cocks to the machine shaft on the twin inserter; her pussy and arse easily did the necessary stretching. Soon the sweat was dripping off her flabby body and her juices were dripping off the machine. Keerthi examined the remote, which consisted of two dials with indicator lights. The lights labelled “vibration” and “rotation,” illuminated when she turned the dials slightly and a low hum came from the unit beneath her. She began gradually increasing the intensity of both the vibration and the rotation. Her face began to contort: first with mild pleasure, then growing sensual excitement, and eventually with complete abandon. Both her litany of moans and screams and her nails digging into the sybian machine gave ample evidence that she was in the throes of extreme orgasmic excitation.

Both women were making gurgling, wet, sucking noises as they attended to the men who were now moaning and fucking their mouths. In front of each woman were four clocks: one showing total elapsed time, another the 10 min countdown time they had left to cum, another the 15 min countdown for the male to be blown, and the final countdown showing the time until the larger sized dildo change.

At three minutes a low animal groan escaped from Nural as she came with her fingers frigging her responsive clit. She smirked at Keerthi and sneered, “Do you have to ration yours or do you need me to make you cum. Tonight I’ll have you drier than the Sahara.”

As if to prove her point, “Unghhhhhhhhhhhhhhh, I love it,” and she came again.

Suddenly Keerthi pulled her man’s cock from her mouth and turned the spraying fuck meat towards the fat Malaysian’s face drenching her. “Get used to it bitch, I’ll work you so hard tonight you’ll lose your voice from screaming.”

Time passed and the sybian attachments vibrated independently, twisted and thrust and just plain wiggled. All of this was controlled by the women via the controller pad so that they could find the right combination of vibrations and movement to give them orgasms. Both also used their hands to help the process along, both on the men’s cocks and their own clits.

“Look how I enjoy it,” Nural boasted as she simultaneously swallowed her latest man’s cum and came herself, her huge body shaking all over as she played with her hard nipples, and then at her erect clitoris. She had shaved her cunt so that Keerthi could easily see her clit and pussy. Noticing that Nural was staring at her pussy, Keerthi spread her lips an inch to show Nural the dildo plunging to its full depth in and out of her pussy. The base of the plug was covered in her juices. She was fucking wet. I went for a coffee, had a piss and glanced at other matches making sure the attendant would keep my seat vacant for my return.

I returned two hours later to see the two women in the same position. They had been going for three hours. Dishevelled, but still fucking relentlessly with cum oozing from between their legs and male sperm dripping from their faces, matted hair, breathing in gasps but still competing. I glanced at the summary boards that showed Nural had cum 29 times, well above the necessary 18, while Keerthi had cum 24 times. Men were about equal, Keerthi 19, Nural 17, both above the necessary 12.

I watched for a while as Keerthi touched the control pad, making the dildo hum at a different frequency. Another touch and it began to move in a circle, effectively massaging her cunt tunnel. She leant back and began to hump at the sybian dildo, fucking it with abandon as she slid the man’s cock in and out her mouth from base to tip.

“God, this is so good,” she gasped, followed by a little whimpering as she came, interrupted by a bellowing groan from the sweat-covered 168-pound Malaysian. Nural was responding well to the challenge, shaking every now and then, but mostly grunting and moaning. Totally aroused, she pushed back taking and fucking the 2 dildos that were drilling into her. I stayed for 15 minutes or so and moved on to another match noting there was plenty of time left. I returned a few more times in the next hour and to my eyes, it appeared as though the younger Malaysian looked fresher than the Indian, who was the acknowledged champion.

I glanced at the scoreboard:
Time 4 hours, 15 min
Keerthi Orgasms 41, (25 needed), Men 26 (21 needed)
Nural Orgasms 58, (25 needed), Men 52 (21 needed)
Cunt dildo 11.75 inches by 2.75 inches
Arse dildo 8.75 inches by 2.75.

It was obvious Keerthi was now labouring, frantically frigging an almost raw clit to just make the 10-minute cutoff time. Her head was lolling, she was resting on her elbows, the man was fucking her mouth, not her blowing him, and she was wincing as the sybian dildos plunged in and out. Nural, although breathing like a beached whale, was in better shape, screaming at the older Indian as she came again with almost rhythmical precision. Usually well before this time. Keerthi’s opponent would have failed to meet a time mark or just given up and withdrawn. It was new territory for her by over twenty minutes.

At the 5.5-hour mark, they increased the size of the two dildos to 11.9 by 2.9 and 8.9 by 2.9.

Nural pushed back onto the Sybian allowing her cum to ooze out and drip onto its bulbous head and I heard her moan and groan with pleasure as the large dildo stretched her cunt even wider. She repeated it with the anal intruder and went back to work at the coal face. “Oh sweet Allah,” she moaned to the machine as she adjusted the controls, “Come on, fill my cunt,” she pleaded to the machine. “Fill my cunt, fill my arse, I need all of it inside me, fuck me, fuck me hard. Are you watching bitch? I can take so much more of it,” she screamed at Keerthi who was too far gone to answer as she struggled to accept her new dildos.

Nural was still clearly enjoying the machine fuck on her arse tunnel and cunt and I watched in amazement as she increased the fucking speed of the dildo, her pussy cum actually frothy from the machine stirring the copious cum flowing from her. She spasmed for quite a while, coming down from yet another orgasm. Meanwhile, Keerthi had slowly leant forward so that she could spread her cheeks and lube her butthole. Then, it was time, and she pushed slowly back, wincing and groaning in pain as both holes stretched and strained to receive their now unwelcome guests. Warily she turned the controls and grimaced as the untiring machine went to work. Only pride was enabling her to continue.

Nural screamed again like a wounded soldier as she came. If anything, her orgasms were coming more quickly. Fear and acceptance of defeat stood out like beacons in Keerthi’s eyes. She looked at the Malaysian. Nural was oozing juices constantly and looked relatively fresh as she directed another stream of male cum over her face and huge wobbling tits. Then she was back to work pressing her butt back and sliding it up and down against the machine.

Oh, oh, oh, oh!” she moaned in pleasure, over and over as the machine relentlessly pounded her cunt and arse. “I will be the best, I am the best” she screamed, and as she reached for another man’s cock he stumbled and pulled away slightly. She stretched further forward to take his cock in her mouth. “No.” Nural writhed in agony and held her belly as pain surged through her. She tried to move but couldn’t. It was obvious she was in real trouble, and I immediately thought she had caught the Jakarta version of the Dehli belly. Then I was really worried. Perhaps I had eaten the same food at breakfast. Each time she tried to move another crippling burst of pain surged through her guts immobilizing her.

Though semi-dazed, Keerthi worked on her almost raw clit and achieved her 64th orgasm accompanied by tears of pain running down her face. She looked at the clock. Nural had 1 minute 35 to achieve an orgasm or lose. Twice the overweight Malaysian tried to move but each time she recoiled as the pain from her belly refused to let her move. 25 seconds and she tried biting her lip to distract her from her belly pain only to throw her head back and scream, a long drawn out “Noooooooo.”

The siren sounded and a semi-conscious Keerthi was the winner. She slumped off the machine cradling her abused cunt and clit. She tried to stand but collapsed. A newcomer entering the auditorium would have picked Nural as the winner, but despite being fresher, having cum more times and making more men cum she was the moral victor only.

I couldn’t get to all the first-round matches but managed to see on the closed circuit TV the highlights that night of some matches which like most of the first rounds matched top seeds against lowly ranked competitors.

Seed 3 Trang Vu versus Seed 30 Yang Chen -Ling. The 34-year-old Yang Chen Ling, a wealthy factory owner from Guangzhou, the Chinese factory for the West, waddled onto the stage, a legend in her own mind. Her round 5ft2 112 33 A 29 35 body teetered on extreme high heels and her wide-hipped small-boobed body was barely covered by a micro lurid pink monokini 2 sizes too small that was disappearing up her arse and cunt cracks and didn’t even fully cover her areola. She was a Cantonese country girl who had used her brain and blackmail to become one of Southern China’s largest clothing factory owners.

Her opponent the petite, no make that tiny, 42-year-old Vietnamese Australian lawyer and world number 3 Trang Vu paraded her 4ft11 84 32 B 21 30 on stage. Despite her flawless features and success, having been in the top six for the past five years, there was something about her that put off the crowds and usually meant she lacked crowd support. Maybe it was her expressionless cold manner or her aloof haughtiness, but there were plenty of watchers and fellow competitors who would be happy to see her lose and continually decried her record stating with no proof she could never be number one. Even if it meant that the buffoon from Guangzhou was to win.

Twelve minutes and twenty-five seconds later it was over. Trang Vu was kneeling between the Cantonese’s widespread legs eating her to her third and losing orgasm as the solid-bodied factory owner lay on her back thrashing her arms into the floor and wailing and screaming in Cantonese, English and unintelligible sounds.

Trang Vu stood up, her face covered with cum and walked off the stage barely breathing hard as Yang Chen Ling lay still writing on the floor, a pool of cum between her thighs. A reality check for the Cantonese who thought she would do well at her first All Asian. She had done everything right blackmailing her employees into training partners, qualifying as seed 30, and now out in 12 min 25 seconds.

How did it go wrong? She had been sucker punched by the Vietnamese who had deliberately orgasmed after two minutes and when the inexperienced 42-year-old Cantonese confidently relaxed, Trang Vu pounced and sent a shuddering orgasm through her using tongue and fingers. She then trapped Yang Chen Ling’s arms under her body as she came and ate her, prolonging the pleasure till the Cantonese rocked to a second thundering orgasm. She then lay spent on her back as Trang Vu delivered the third and final orgasm that put Yang Chen Ling on the plane back to Guangzhou.

Seed 5 Jasmine versus Seed 28 Ardina Ratri. The number 5 seed and youngest competitor, the eighteen-year-old Thai, Jasmine strutted on stage dressed even more outrageously than normal. She had painted on a micro bikini with rubberized paint and wore clunky high-heeled boots and the outfit did nothing for her chunky 5 ft, 110-pound 38C 29 34 body. Similarly, her thick make-up and heavily mascaraed false eyelashes merely drew attention to her pock-marked face. But all this paled in comparison to her huge, bloated nipples and the monstrosity of a clit that throbbed between her permanently open cunt lips. Many experienced followers thought it would only be a matter of time before this insatiable sex machine became number one.

Her opponent was the 29-year-old Indonesian and distant relative of former Indonesian President Suharto, Ardina Ratri who was the world number 49. She was a more refined version of Jasmine’s slut look. Like Jasmine, she was solid and meaty at 34D 22 35 but was wearing a sheer waist-length negligee 4 sizes too small for her tits. An experienced competitor who had reached a career-high of 28 she was unlikely to upset any of the top ten but, given the number of upsets so far in this tournament in Jakarta, and this being her hometown, you wouldn’t bet on it.

But even she was surprised when Jasmine lay back, spread her legs and beckoned the Indonesian to her cunt. Ardina went to work expertly; you wouldn’t last as long as she had without having the skills, and soon was fingering the teenager’s cunt and arse while her tongue attacked the huge quivering freak of nature that was Jasmine’s clit. Incredibly Jasmine’s swollen nipples became even harder as she willingly pushed her cunt into the permed-haired Indonesian’s face.

At the five-minute mark, Jasmine was groaning uncontrollably. By the ten-minute mark, she was humping uncontrollably and screaming, and Ardina’s face was covered in love juice. At the thirteen-minute mark, it happened. “Yes,” she screamed in pleasure as she arched her face and ground her sopping cunt into Ardina’s face.

One Zip to the Indonesian as Jasmine willingly moved into 69 with Ardina. The two united in their scissors and ate and tongued each other as their fingers went on a search-and-destroy mission exploring each other’s holes. But gradually it became obvious that Ardina was tiring, and Jasmine mounted her tired body and sealed their cunts together; hers shaved, Ardina’s hairy, and started fucking the Indonesian with her huge clit rubbing it up and down Ardina’s slit interspersed with her stabbing thrusts that aroused the Indonesian’s clit. It was quickly too much for the Indonesian.

“Fuck,” she screamed and squirmed under the eighteen-year-old as she came. One all.

They reunited in 69 and the story was repeated. Ardina tired while the Thai simply couldn’t get enough arousal. Finally, Ardina’s feet drummed the floor as she exploded with the Thai on top of her ruthlessly fucking her with her clit after Ardina could no longer maintain a rolling 69 position. A rubbery-limbed Ardina locked into 69 again, but you could see defeat in her eyes, and it wasn’t too long before her pride could no longer sustain the 69 position and she rolled limply off to suffer the indignation in her hometown of the 18-year-old Thai and possible future world number one fucking her prone unresisting body with one of her thick nipples till she came for the third and final time.

Two hours after the event was over anyone near the changing rooms could hear Jasmine’s almost continual chanting as she came over and over and again at the hands, mouth, and strap-on of her backer, the wealthy Thai businesswoman Darunee.

Seed 8 Saomi Aiwaza versus Seed 25 Wening Wulandari. Both women were screaming as they thrust the three-foot-long double dildo that connected both competitors into the other woman. The 19-year-old Indonesian general’s girlfriend, Wening Wulandari, screamed with pain and frustration as her efforts slowed and weakened while the overweight bespectacled ex-Toyota employee, now Toyota-sponsored World number 8 sexfighter screamed like a wild animal over its kill as she thrust the dildo deep into the Indonesian.

“I fuck you good, you’ll not walk for a week. You like the cock I’m giving you, bitch,” the 41-year-old Japanese ranted as her huge belly heaved and her thighs flexed with each thrust. The flexible double dong was covered by cum and both women were using every bit of their cunt muscle strength to control it as they lay on their sides resting on one elbow facing each other with one arm around the other’s neck.

Wening wailed in frustration as her efforts grew weaker and the eighth seed forced the two-inch diameter lurid pink plasticised rubber deeper and deeper into the sobbing world number 37. “I’ll split you in two, bitch,” the Japanese snarled at her Indonesian opponent as she increased her fucking speed.

Wening was almost gone but instead of allowing her a graceful exit, the Japanese spun her around and doggy fucked her till the sobbing Indonesian screamed her submission. She relaxed but the smiling Japanese hammered home a final brutal blow after the bell and withdrew the bloody business end of the double dong as Wening lay curled in pain on the floor and the medics rushed on stage. It should have been a disqualification but with the financial power of the Japanese, the judges acted like the United Nations. They did nothing but wait for an easier target like a low-ranked Filipina or Cambodian when they would mercilessly use the rule book and pat themselves on the back as impartial upholders of the rules.

I smiled normality had returned to the event and the top seeds were going through.

Having seen most of the first-round action, I bluffed my way into the hotel Mulia Senayan dining room despite residing at a cheap hotel five kilometres or a three-hour journey in Jakarta’s traffic away and entered the dining room. I scanned the room because you can’t be too careful. Creditors and more importantly their enforcers are everywhere. My eyes fastened on the single woman just settling down at a table. It was the seed 30, the World 95 Yang Chen Ling who had been bundled out in the first round by the perpetual top-five seed, the Australian Vietnamese Trang Vu. The Cantonese Guangdong-based factory owner as I have described earlier was 34 5ft2, overweight at 112 pounds, 33 A 29 37, short-legged, short-haired with severe glasses framing her round face. She was reputedly the wealthiest contestant here, which of course, had nothing to do with my decision.

I approached her table, motioned to the spare chair and enquired if I could share the table. She turned to face me, and her smallish tits nearly fell out of her mini Lycra boob tube and her fluorescent lime thong was visible between her chunky thighs, so short was her skirt.

“Why,” she inquired, looking at the many vacant tables?

“Well, I replied, “It is an honour to sit with the competitor I had bet on to win her first round, plus anyone who enters the dining room will be jealous of me sitting with a woman like you.”

If she was a cat she would have purred. My silver tongue despite being inactive for a while was still at its potent best.

“So, you like the way I dress, but everyone here dresses sexily,” she said in her Chinese-accented English, fishing for further praise. Lucky for me she spoke, or rather as most Cantonese do, shouted mangled English, because my Cantonese was non-existent.

“Yes, but they do so because it is part of the image. It is expected of them. I can tell that you do it because you want to. Being a woman is ingrained and burnt into your DNA. You are not playing a role. It is what you are.”

She smiled and motioned for me to sit beside her. “Yes, you are right. Ever since I was young growing up in the countryside, I dreamt of being sexy. So, you approve of what I wear,” she said as she preened and stroked the tight Lycra boob tube moulded to her tits.

I nodded and continued, “It’s perfect for you and totally appropriate for attending a funeral, but if you were my woman then I would want you to wear something more revealing. Clothes that show people the real woman you are.” If she was purring like a cat before her sound now was that of the rumble of a contented lion.

Luckily, I had witnessed on the closed TV her quick defeat by Trang Vu in the first round so I was able to comment on her prefight clothing or lack of it: the extremely high heels and the two sizes too small micro lurid pink monokini which was disappearing up her arse and cunt cracks and didn’t even fully cover her areola. Of course, my words were far, far more flattering than that description. This gave me the chance to move on to the fight itself. It had been a debacle with the long-time top 5 seed Australian Vietnamese lawyer taking just twelve minutes and twenty-five seconds to win. It ended with Trang Vu kneeling between the Cantonese’s widespread legs eating her to her third and losing orgasm as Yang Chen lay on her back thrashing her arms into the floor and wailing and screaming in Cantonese, English and unintelligible sounds as she lost.

“Who was your manager/coach,” I enquired, “because they gave you bad advice and obviously knew nothing about Trang Vu’s style? You tried to match her from the start instead of being defensive, frustrating her then tiring her, and letting the pressure of a top seed not putting away a newcomer build on her. You may not have won but you would have had a chance.”

Her face reddened. “ I don’t have one.” I managed to look surprised despite knowing that was the case.

“And,” I continued, “Who was there in the crowd to support you. You know, that one person you trust that has faith and belief in you and gives you confidence. The one who catches your eye and gives you the confidence to fight even though you feel you are behind.” I noticed that she had not started on her food yet but was giving me her full attention. Again, she shook her head in the negative and I struck while the iron was hot. “A pity we had not met earlier. Then you could have seen a supporting face at the fight.”

She nodded her agreement and asked, “Why are you at the Championship?”

I pulled out my gold pass and explained how I had started the event years before, (see Chp 1) somehow relegating my co-partner, the Singaporean mate nicknamed Four, short for Four Eyes because of his thick glasses, to a minor role. I am sure he would forgive me. Also, I managed to weave my Accounting business with its emphasis on Asian firms getting money out of Asia into Australia into the conversation. Her food lay untouched.

“You are very experienced, and you understand everything about me. I am thinking that I should finish up competing and just concentrate on my clothing factories. What do you think?”

I pretended to contemplate deeply. “Well in a short time, you have broken into the top 100. What are you, Number 95, then you competed in a knockout competition from world 29 to 128 and obtained one of the 4 spots available in this competition. 4 spots from 100 competitors of whom 70 odd were ranked lower than you. All without an advisor or trusted supporter. Yes, you were defeated in the first round, but by the World number 3 who preyed on your inexperience and who tricked you into sexfighting the way she wanted, not a way that played to your strengths. In my opinion, with the right guidance you will only improve, and with what I suspect about your sex drive I can only see one pathway. Upwards.”

I laid a hand on her bare, exposed, chunky thigh. “My considered advice is this. You should get an advisor, find a true supporter who really believes in you and continue.”

I could almost feel the heat radiating from her cunt only inches from my hand. “And would you be my advisor? I am very wealthy and can pay you very well. No, that’s a crazy idea. You probably have others that you manage.”

Nodding as though to acknowledge and accept the truth in her perception, I replied, “A top Japanese wants to leave their system and have me manage her, and I have received some other phone messages I haven’t replied to yet because the Japanese negotiations are well advanced.” Well advanced? Haha. I suppose I had seen two Japanese compete in the first event.

She interrupted, “I can pay you far more.”

“But there are two problems with that,” I continued. Her face fell. “First, even though I would prefer to be managing you because you have more potential than the Japanese, I cannot accept payment. It would be a labour of love for me. And second, I have never heard of anyone being both an advisor and a close supporter. I would want both but don’t know which one would be best for you.”

“We can be different. You could do both,” she replied, the relief and joy showing on her round face. “I know that it will be best for me with you advising and giving me confidence as well, and we will work out the money later.” Her hand rested on mine on her thigh. Her fingers intertwined with mine. “We can do both, can’t we?”

I could hear the cash registers already. With no fixed amount I would bleed her dry.

“I have to go back to Guangzhou tomorrow because I arranged some meetings with Government officials after I lost. I can buy a first-class ticket and you can fly with me and we can work on the details of what I need to do.”

First-class travel. Inside I smiled, but I managed a sad face. “I would love to, but if I don’t attend all days here then I lose my Gold card and its influence on any future decisions that may affect you. But we can discuss the basics here before your plane leaves if you have the time.” Of course, she had the time, and I followed the chunky Cantonese out of the dining room staring at just how much of her arse cheeks were exposed by her micro mini.

She had taken The Duke Suite which will set you back $5,730 a Night. But you get a lot for your money. The suite occupies 595 square meters split into two wings, one for living and one for entertainment. The master bedroom has a 3.5-meter-long bed (almost twice as large as a normal king-size bed) and an 85-inch TV. The bathroom has a golden bath and shower fixtures from designer Sherle Wagner. A free bottle of Dom Perignon Champagne is included in the price. It was totally out of my league but I could learn.