All, I hope you enjoy the match below. Rebecca of course was amazing, but you all know that. I won;t give away the ending, but what a great match. The moral of the story is don;t get involved with Russian or American-Italian gangs! We lost a post in the middle, and I will try and edit it to recover it soon!
Dana: I have been a member of a Russian New York gang since I was 18. I started off as a decoy, someone to distract shop owners or security guards using innocent chat and my eyelashes, but I soon picked up the finer points of pick pocketing and theft. I am able to take something from a pocket without them knowing and have even taken jewellery from fingers and necks. Using a combination of charm, quick hands and a sexy smile I have proved pretty invaluable.
Most girls who joined fell away, used like hookers or sold on, but I was different. I refused all of their approaches and that's well known. People know me as cold, cool calculating and impossible to get, and I like that, it gives me a mysterious air which I play on. I have never got involved in the guns, knives and fighting, that's always been up to the men. The guys have always protected me from that side of things, but now things have changed....
Another girl in a local gang, Rebecca, has made a bit of a name for herself, and during a drinking session with the guys I was encouraged to write a letter. After a few vodkas it seemed like fun. I have a tough girl reputation and the guys were cheering with every word when I read the letter. They told me I could fuck her up and make her my little bitch. Something about that appeals to me. Taking down another female Gand member with my hands, I get a shiver just thinking about it.
'Dearest dearest Rebecca,
It seems that it's true, you CAN sleep your way up to the top in New York gangs. How else would a pretty princess like you no be sold off like a cheap whore. Tell me...exactly HOW many blow jobs did you give to get where you are? I bet you have given so many everything tastes like cum now...
sadly for you your skills have all been wasted. We rule this town and I'm not sure any Russian would touch someone like you. Another hooker playing with fire, and about to get her fingers burnt. So my advice, woman to woman, you should probably get a low paid day job, McDonalds would suit you, at least a job would give you some security.
Security brings me to the reason for this letter..
You know the empty warehouse at the end of 5th? Let's meet there, bring the guys but this time it's you and I. The guys CANT fight each other and they can't break us up. No police, no help, what happens happens, it's me vs you. Be warned, I intend to completely fuck you up. I know how to fight and when I have finished with you, you will need to be carried out of there. I'm sure you understand, we don't really 'do' mercy where I'm from.
Well, you know how to get in touch. Sunday morning, back out if you like. I'd understand why you would rather avoid getting humiliated in front of your boys. Let me know princess
Dana'
The courier went straight away with the letter, of course sealed with a ruby red kiss, my trademark. It's been left on paper at various robberies and now it marks the kiss of death for you.
Still fuelled with vodka and the adulation of the gang, I have no regrets. Sunday morning will be fun...
Rebecca: While I’m not Italian myself, I grew up in an Italian neighborhood. Is it a cliché that growing up means you meet the Mafia up close and personal? Sure. That doesn’t mean it doesn’t happen. And in my case, it certainly did. My parents didn’t approve: “Hanging out with those thugs will ruin you.” My response was an eye roll and a slammed screen door on my way out.
Hanging out with them isn’t being blind to them. Nearly every one of them made a pass at me, some of them pretty strongly. But I know from watching them, they don’t respect women who roll over and take the role of the wife, the girlfriend, the mistress, the piece on the side. And what I wanted was these powerful people to show me some respect. It wasn’t an easy path, but I got there. It took doing some things I was not proud of, but I’ve found over time you tend to forget about those little guilts, and keep your eye on the prize.
Women who don’t fit those traditional roles are pretty rare in the macho circles, so I’d heard of you and how you’d been making a name for yourself. Your exact role was unclear to me, but I didn’t probe too deeply. While the relations between the Italians and the Russians wasn’t open war, it wasn’t exactly chummy either. Sort of a wary, uneasy truce, each watching the other for signs of a move about to be made against each other.
So when your note appeared, filled with its obviously provocative insults, seemingly designed purely to be insulting, a “move” is exactly what came to mind. But even if it is a move the Russians are making, backing down isn’t going to help. It makes me look weak, and afraid. It makes the Italians look weak for allowing me to operate in their circles. And if there is one thing they HATE, it is being made to look weak. I hold the letter, seeing the kiss there… a ‘kiss of death’ if I accept, I understand the metaphor to be. But I know it is an even more certain kiss of death to refuse. I reread the last paragraph. Oh yes… I most definitely know how to get in touch.
The next morning, as you open the door to your place, you find the courier there, passed out, having been clearly worked over. Your own letter is shoved into his pocked, with my reply scrawled on the back. “Just wanted to give you a taste of what is to come. See you Sunday, Dana.”
Dana: Here I am, at the warehouse. It’s snowing outside, a cold freezing day in New York, and although I don’t regret suggesting doing this when we were all a little drunk, I don’t have quite the same amount of courage as I did back then. It didn’t seem real then, but it seems VERY real now. 7 of the guys with me to watch. There has been a weapons check on the outside, and both sides have signed in blood a contract that they will NOT interfere. I am sat on a crate waiting for you. Wearing worn faded blue jeans. Super tight around the hips and thighs but looser around the calves. A red tank top, and my hair tied into a tight pony tail. My heart is racing; this ISN'T my thing. I steal, I charm, I even extort, but I DON'T fight but this is different. This is against some half Italian skank who doesn't even know what she has got herself involved in. I see some movement near the door. The security guard ready to lock it behind your gang when they get here "Do you realise how bad you are going to beat this Mafia wannabe bitch’s ass" My friend asks, and I smile "Oh don’t worry, I will make sure it's not too quick, I really wanna put on a show!" I smirk, a great actress and doing a fantastic job of hiding my nerves. Some guys walk in. I know you will be part of this entourage. This is happening! I stay seated on the crate, looking calm, cool and almost indifferent yt
Rebecca: The limo pulls up outside the warehouse, and I open the door, stepping out into the snow as it whips around, a freezing air messing up my hair. Which reminds me... I slip a band off my wrist, and quickly step into the open door, as seven Italians follow behind me. Brave guys, letting me go first in case this is an ambush. Well, luckily it wasn't. We go through the weapon checks, and I tug my hair into a ponytail, before we move deeper into the warehouse, as a door is dragged open. I strut in, wearing a tight black t-shirt with the logo from a local band that will never go anywhere, Sonic Death Monkey, and a pair of tight jeans that hug my ass, but give me surprisingly good room to manoeuvre. My heart is racing. I know the stakes. (mtc)
Rebecca: Making the Italians look bad in front of the Russians won't be a good outcome for me. I've fought before, but it isn't what I do on a day to day basis: I manoeuvre. I blackmail. I extort. I threaten. I rarely have to get physical. Rarely isn't never, but still... I see you coolly resting on a crate. "So this is the Russian Whore with the big mouth, huh? Doesn't look that impressive." I say dismissively, as I shrug off my heavy leather jacket and toss it to Vito. "But then again, everyone knows Russian's mouths are bigger than their ability to back it up." I sneer. My heart races, but I know the mind game is nearly as important as the rest, and I am not going to show a moments fear. Yt
Dana: I see you walk in, and strangely enough, this is the first time I have ever actually seen you. I have heard about you, I have heard some of the guys who have met you say you are stunningly attractive, but this is the first time I have actually seen you with my own eyes. You start running your mouth and I stay quiet. You are clearly in shape, and are probably strong, but I am pretty certain I could beat most women in a fight, and I am relentlessly tough. I stand from the crate, at 5ft4 120lbs 34b I definitely qualify as 'petite' but without any of the cutesy connotations. I step towards you as the guys form a circle around us, they start taking bets mtc
Dana: until the leader of my gang, Pasha holds his hand up "Wait...what do you say we make this a little more interesting...how about the ladies make themselves a little more comfortable before we do this?" It is met to raucous cheers by the crowd, although his suggestion takes me a little by surprise. I didn't plan for this, and you would have thought he would have given me advance warning "I have no problem with that" I smile, not breaking eye contact with you for a second. I don’t show my shock at all "Rebecca....?" I ask, awaiting your reaction yt
Rebecca: I roll my head on my shoulders, loosening up my neck as you step towards me. My heart races, but I try to keep that off my face. I can feel the adrenaline starting to flow. I level my head, and my blue eyes meet yours. I'm a little bigger than you at 5'6" 124 34b, but not a lot. I know I am in great shape... you appear to be in decent shape yourself, but I tell myself I have the advantage there. I find my hands balled into fists without realizing I'd done it, and I unclench them for a moment. I can hear the guys betting behind us when one Russian opens his mouth to interrupt, and I hear his words. My eyes narrow... this feels like disrespect. What are we, some oil wrestling sluts at the bar? (mtc)
Rebecca: My lip curls back in a sneer and I'm about to tell him what I think of his peep show idea when you speak first. Well fuck. I can't look weak and back down now. I think you can see a hint of irritation in my eyes as I realize I'm trapped. "Well sure, I care about beating this bitch, not what I wear while I do it. So that is fine with me." I hiss, glaring at you. I feel like a coil tensed up, ready to spring.
Dana: Of course it's disrespectful, but I have learned over the years in an all-male environment to turn things like this to my strength. I would never do anything that I was uncomfortable with, and this may make YOU more uncomfortable than me. "You seem reluctant..." I smile, before peeling my tank over my arms and shoulders, showing an electric blue, slightly padded bra. It isn't the sexiest lingerie in the world, I was unprepared, but it also is hardly the stuff you would lounge around your apartment in. I unbutton my jeans and step out of them, showing matching cotton panties, skimpy, but not a thing, again, sexy without being DELIBERATELY sexy, designed to look good and be practical. I nod to one of the more junior guys to fold my clothes and put them on a crate, which he does mtc
Dana: I stand, hands on hips, carefully looking for your reaction to my body, both as a woman and as an opponent. I am toned, curvy and know that I am in shape. The feeling of all eyes on me is electrifying yt
Rebecca: I watch you disrobe, and I can tell you are both fit and curvy. I'm not intimidated, but I'm also not dismissive (in my mind, at least). Out loud is another story. "Hey Paulie, doesn't she remind you of that stripper at the club you run? The one who is always whining about it being too hard?" "Hah, yeah Becs, she kinda does." he says, playing along. I tuck my fingers under my t-shirt and tug it up, over my head, revealing a red satin bra, with lace at the edges. I wasn't planning on stripping down today, but I'm not embarrassed by it, as I show off my toned torso... (mtc)
Rebecca: I undo the buttons and zipper and wriggle out of my jeans, letting them fall to the floor and then kicking them backwards for one of the guys to pick up, as I show off my toned legs and taunt butt in a matching satin panties set. This is stupid. This is stupid and degrading. But I don't have a lot of options. I flex my core a little, showing off. "Wanna back down now, Princess? No one here would blame you, that is for sure..."
Dana: The first thing I notice is how toned you are. You clearly work out, and while you are not musclebound, you look like you have some core strength. I am not intimidated in the slightest though. I am strong too, and think that I can show you a thing or too. Being a pickpocket requires me to be lightning fast, and it won’t matter about your strength once I get moving. "Not backing down, not against an American Italian whore like you" The bosses nod at each other and back off to give us room, the rest of the guys follow suit "Go on Dana, nail her!" Shouts one guy as I crouch, fists raised, eyes on yours, feeling the cold ground under my bare feet mtc
Dana: The warehouse is cold and dark, the temperature giving me goosebumps, but that just adds to the atmosphere. Everyone in coats except us. I take a deep breath and then come a little closer, still testing you out at the moment, not wanting to dart in and make a mistake yt
Rebecca: As we start to square off, the shouts from the crowd grow. Russian, English and even some Italian is overheard as our gang’s shout suggestions, instructions, insults, and general cheering. It all kind of blurs into a loud background noise for me though. My eyes are locked on yours, and the moment is what I am focused on. The air is cool ... it shouldn't surprise me that a warehouse doesn't spring for a lot of heat, but damn if it doesn't feel chilly in here right now, despite my pounding heart. My fists are squeezed tightly into fists once more... (mtc)
Rebecca: "Good. I was counting on Russian stupidity to help me out." I reply. I see you close, but not quite engaging. Caution? Fear? Nervousness? Smarts? Who knows. We will find out. I close a little too, as we circle, squaring off. I strike first... snapping a right punch at your head, but it is mostly a feint as I twist and swing my left knee upwards, trying to bury it in your abs and test how toned that core of yours really is... yt
Dana: I tell myself to keep calm. I am more used to escaping situations than being in them, but the thought of having to face something head on is so exciting. I haven't felt this way since my first heist, the danger, the thrill, the thought that so many people are counting on me. I come closer to you, before you throw a punch. I dodge it, moving my head right. I may not have boxing training but I am quick. Your knee slams up into my bare abs though, and force me to hop backwards. I'm not winded though, and am able to show off my strength. Of course the blow hurt, and the fact I was thrown back by it shows that, but the fact that I am still on my feet also shows I am tougher than some may have thought mtc
Dana: I come back towards you, and I can't quite stand to my full height at the moment, thanks to your knee. I try and use that for me. I throw myself forward, shoulder aimed straight for YOUR abs. wanting to slam into you and spear tackle you to the hard concrete floor, my arms wrap around your body as I impact, partly for my own balance but partly to control your body that little bit more, increasing my chances of taking you down
Rebecca: The crowd (esp my guys) cheers when I land the first blow. I start to step forward, smiling as I go for my follow up when you explode forward into me in a spear tackle, your shoulder crashing into my abs as your legs push forward suddenly and powerfully. I feel myself driven backwards, and as your arms wrap around my lower body I stumble, and fall backwards, you moving with me, as you take me down to the cold, hard, unyielding concrete floor in a takedown. The cheer grows even louder as we crash into the concrete. I feel the impact, mostly on my ass, and a sharp jolt goes through my body as I hit the floor. I wince, gasping out in pain at the hard landing. (mtc)
Rebecca: My left hand gropes up for your ponytail, jerking on it to try to yank your head back, opening it up as a target as my right hand balls into a fist and swings at your face... going for short but angry punches aimed at your nose, your cheek, your eye, anything I can tag. You want to get in close with me? I want to make you pay for it. I swing angrily and quickly, more intent on speed than accuracy, before kicking off with my left foot against the floor, trying to buck us so that I roll you over, as I attempt to reverse our positions on the warehouse floor. Cheers roar from the 14 guys, screaming and shouting. yt
Dana: I can't throw quite as much power in to the spear as I would usually be able to thanks to your knee, but I try and compensate for that by taking a two-step run, and hoping the momentum makes up for it. I crash into you and you go down. I go down as well, landing myself on top of you. I don’t have time to really get my positon set before you grab my pony tail and start swinging punches at my head. Your guys cheer as three of them hit hard before I can get one hand up to block the rest. Those hurt! You buck hard and swing your body towards me. I am too dazed from the punches and can’t stop you from swinging me over and now I find myself on my back underneath you mtc
Dana: I look up, and seeing that I could be in trouble I slam my knee up hard, aiming my thighs straight for your ass, hitting centrally, and hoping it propels you over my head before you can start to rain down more blows on my face. My palms flat to the ground to give myself some stability so I can get as much force into the knee/thigh strike as I possibly can yt
Rebecca: If the boys thought they were going to get a 'giggle and squirm rolling around show' they are very mistaken... though from the shouts and cheers it doesn’t appear they are disappointed. We start off hard, your charging tackle and my counter punches showing we are not playing around. I work you onto your back, and I start to raise up on my knees, eyeing your face where I plan to draw back my left elbow and slam it down, when your leg slams forward, smashing your thigh into my ass and knocking me forward, off balance. I grunt in surprise and fall forward, my belly falling atop your face as the blow unexpectedly knocked me forward. I land roughly, barely getting my hands up to stop me from face-planting into the concrete (mtc)
Rebecca: Realizing there is no way I will get back on top of you with any control from this angle, I hiss in frustration and push off the concrete with my hands, rolling to the side. The cold air and floor have my skin prickly and goosebumped, though my breath feels hot and heavy as I pant. I roll to my left, getting off of you and putting a couple of feet between us, before I push off the cold floor and try to scramble up to my feet, trying to beat you to them. yt
Dana: I got an eyeful of your toned abs before but now I get a faceful as you land stomach first on top of me. I turn my head straight away, and had been hoping that would thrust you all the way off me, but I wasn't that lucky. You need to roll off though, and I roll towards you, and you make your first mistake. You start to pick yourself up, but facing away from me. I lunge forward and grab your ankle, dragging it backwards and yanking hard, trying to send you chest and maybe even face first...if you don't get your hands up in time...to the floor mtc
Dana: I quickly throw myself on top of you, wanting to land pretty much body to body, with my hips landing on your ass, my chest on your shoulder blade, and my legs either side of you if I can manage it. It will be a full body pin and will look incredibly dominant and sexy to our audience if it lands yt
Rebecca: My hope of scrambling to my feet before you are proven false as you lunge and grab at my ankle, yanking it out from under me. I let out a cry of surprise as I fall forward. My hands fly up on instinct, but still they only cushion the blow instead of blocking it, as I fall face first to the floor. My forehead hits the floor, and I groan in pain. My forearms took most of the blow, so it isn't like it is going to risk knocking me out, but still the impact dazes me. You use that daze to your advantage, throwing yourself atop me... (mtc)
Rebecca: Your body grinds down on me, seemingly dominantly crushing me against the floor. I hear lots of Russian cheering and Italian orders to get up, but my head is still a little foggy, as I feel you grind down on me. I hiss in anger, shaking my head to clear it...
Rebecca: yt
Dana: I get myself on top of you and knowing that you won't be dazed for too long, I want to take immediate advantage of this situation. I look down and then grab your pony tail in my left hand, taking a good handful of your hair, before swinging my right fist down and across, wanting to strike you right across the jaw in this vicious nhb fight. I try and sit up a little bit to give me more balance and stability on you. "Open that crate NOW" I shout to one of my guys who is sitting casually on the crate. He quickly lifts the lid on it. I don’t know what’s inside but whatever it is I intend to try and use on you. mtc
Dana: I am holding your head up by the hair and I try for another punch once against to your jaw. I can't see but I already have a red blotch on my cheek from your first punches. That will swell in time, but right now it's barely noticeable with the blusher merging into it yt
Rebecca: My head snaps to the side after your punch lands on my jaw, staggering me. I groan, spitting out saliva flaked with blood after the impact. I hear you shouting, but I don't really register as to what. I just know I can't stay here, getting pummelled on the ground. I feel your body tense up for another punch, and I swing my right elbow back hard, trying to drive it into your ribcage as hard as I can, hoping to knock you off of me, or at least mess up the aim of your swing.
Rebecca: My other arm, my left forearm, pushes against the concrete suddenly and powerfully, along with my legs, as I buck roughly, trying to knock you off of me as I attempt to dislodge you, trying to scamper forward towards some crates, intent on using them to get myself back to my feet. My breath his hard and ragged as I explode with effort, feeling the impact of your shots. yt
Dana: I land the second blow, but the second I do, your elbow slams back, straight into my ribcage. I howl in pain, my arm dropping and tucking in tight to my torso. I still have your hair in my left hand, but not holding it with the same iron grip which I was seconds before. You start bucking and I hold on for a few seconds but in the end fall down off you onto my side and quickly look to roll away. I know you are getting up; I can see out of the corner of my eye. That means I have the time to get up as well. I climb up to my feet, away from the crates. My guys are the other side of you "What's in the crate" I call, slightly out of breath mtc
Dana: "Bouncy balls" comes the reply. I shake my head. I can’t get there anyway, but they don’t sound hugely useful to me right now. I know they can’t interfere so can’t throw me any of them, so I come closer to you, hands out in more of a wrestling stance now, fingers spread yt
Rebecca: Leaning on the crates, I gasp and turn to face you. You can see bruises forming where your punches landed. Despite the cool air, a sheen of sweat is starting to form on my forehead and chest. I see you closing, your stance wide, arms spread. My eyes lock with yours once more. I snarl, baring my teeth, though I know so far you've had the better of our exchange, and that doesn't bode well for me. Not one bit. My pride and my anger and my fear of losing my position with the Italians drives me on. I snarl again as you start to close... (mtc)
Rebecca: Before you can lunge forward for a lockup, my hands behind me grip tightly on the crates and I snap my right leg forward, trying to bury it in your belly in a stomping kick. Hoping that slows you down, I push off the crates and rush at you, trying to throw my arms around you in a grappling clinch as I try to both retake the momentum and buy myself a moment to catch my breath. "BITCH!" I snarl as I throw myself at you. yt
Dana: I have had the better of this fight so far, but I have already seen that you are pretty tough and that if you punch me, it will hurt...a lot. You look in a bad place as I close the distance. I even notice you leaning back on a crate, clearly unable to even support your own weight. I smirk evilly as I come towards you quicker. You are more hurt than I thought. Then BAM! Your foot smashes into my abs hard and I back up, almost falling over backwards. You charge in and grab my hands, and it really is easy with me in this condition to force me backwards mtc
Dana: I glance over my shoulder and see some crates and if I'm not careful I will be sat on them if you carry on like this. I try and dig my feet in and push back, after the blow from your foot however, I don’t have the core strength to fight back against both your power and your momentum, this means that soon my thighs clash with the wooden top and I am lent back against it, pinned against the wall half sat on the crate yt
Rebecca: The sight of the two of us, scantily clad, struggling against the crate, grinding into one another causes all sides of the crowd to cheer and roar. I'm less concerned about their show at the moment, however, and more concerned about the crafty Russian bitch who has been showing how dangerous she is. I know I need to even the odds and fast. Luckily, it appears (or at least seems like to me) that the rough landing on the crates staggered you for a moment, as your ass sits partially atop it. I break my clinch and straighten up, drawing my right fist back... (mtc)
Rebecca: I snap my right fist forward, aiming for your pretty nose as I snap the blow at you. Hoping that blow staggers and disorients you, I follow up with a second blow before I can tell if the first had the desired (or even any) impact, counting on the quantity over quality, as my second fist aims square at your throat, hoping that might even more dangerously stagger you for the moment and get me back in this... yt
Dana: I see you draw your fist back and then I try and raise my hands. The landing has taken more out of me than I thought though, and I don't get my hands up in time. Your fist smashes into my nose hard with a crunch. It hasn't broken it, but there's a smattering of blood on my top lip from it. The power of the first punch means that your second punch doesn't find its target. You aim for my throat, but because my head snapped to the side, your second punch hits my shoulder, knocking me to the side. I see, just through my currently blurry eyes an opportunity. I kick my foot out hard towards your ankle mtc
Dana: hoping to slam into it, and at best sweep you off your feet, but at the very least force you to back off away from me for a few seconds. My head spinning from the direct punch to my nose and needing the room to recover a little bit yt
Rebecca: Your body twists under the impact of my blow, and my second tags your shoulder instead of your throat... painful, I'm sure, but not as incapacitating as I hoped. I cock back my fist to go for a third punch when your foot snaps forward and slams into my ankle. I wince and cry out, and fall forward from the blow, crashing into you... body to body against the crates as I slump forward. Hips grinding against hips, chest pressing into chest, sweating and panting, hot air on each other's faces... (mtc)
Rebecca: My ankle throbs with pain as we suddenly grapple up close and personal. I shift my weight to the other ankle, as we struggle. My arms around your body as we strive for control, I twist at the hips, trying to yank you off the crates and toss you bodily towards the floor as I jerk hard and release my hold, panting as I grab a crate for balance, one ankle throbbing with pain still from your sharp stomp. yt
Dana: I kick at your ankle and it half works. It does stop you from attacking and punching me, but I didn't foresee you landing on top of me, falling forward, and now I am even more trapped against the wall. We struggle with each other, but my feet are off the ground, so I don’t have any control. You have one foot firmly planted, so when you start to twist, I can’t do anything. I grab the top of the crate as I fall, but I just yank it off and release it, it slides a few paces away from both of us as I land on the floor. Luckily my other hand was in your hair so I pull you with me, on top of me. The crate right by us now open, but I can’t see what's inside mtc
Dana: Underneath you right now. I plant my feet and throw my weight upwards, trying to buck you off me, both of us showing a little blood and both of us having good periods of control. I just hope I can stop yours right now yt
Rebecca: I wasn't expecting to be dragged with you, and I fall forward awkwardly, crashing atop you. You plant your feet and throw your weight into me, and I crash to the side, into one of the fallen crates. The top falls off, and shredded packing material falls forward as the crate lays on its side. I groan and scamper forward, grabbing at what is inside... I draw it out... an AK-47. Of course the Russians would be shipping old Soviet guns... duh. I draw the weapon to me and aim it at you. Our eyes meet. There is a moment of silence as I do so... not even thinking how badly I am escalating this. There is a pause, and then I pull the trigger. It goes... click. And nothing happens. (mtc)
Rebecca: Of course they don't ship them loaded!! How stupid can I be!?! That would be idiotic, even for Russians. I see a scramble of movement from you, and I wildly swing the butt of it like a club, aiming it for your gut as I use the weapon as well as I can in the circumstances. yt
Dana: I throw you off me, but you are nearer the crate and grab something from it. It’s a gun! Fuck! You point it towards me, and I am lying back, resting on my elbows, you on your knees. I don’t move as you fire it, but nothing happens, not loaded. Of course! No one would ship loaded weapons! The ammo is probably in an entirely different warehouse. I start to get up quickly scrambling towards you but I am soon on my hands and knees again, as you swing the butt of it straight into my midriff, knocking me down to a doggy position mtc
Dana: The blows to my stomach are starting to take their toll and each one that lands hurts a little bit more. I reach lazily for the top of the crate and swing it wildly for your thigh, knowing if the side hits hard it may give you a dead leg and buy me enough time to get myself away from you yt
Rebecca: I walk towards you as you land on all fours, panting. Despite the temperature, a sheen of sweat covers my entire body now, and the bruises that were hinted at early are flowering. I don't care. I don't care about the pain, I don't care about the humiliation of battling in my lingerie for the crowd, I don't care about any of it. I care about finishing you off. I raise the AK up over my head, with the intent of driving the but of it down on the back of your head or neck to put you out, when you grab at the crate lit and slam it wildly into my thigh. I scream as I feel the heavy impact, and the weapon falls from my hands, clattering to the floor and skidding away. (mtc)
Rebecca: I clutch at my thigh: it is already bruising and the pain is throbbingly distracting. I see you moving away out of the corner of my scrunched up eye. I hiss, furious, and crawl on my knees towards some other crates, using them to right myself as you escape me. I pant hard, and wipe sweat from my forehead as I push myself to my feet, my leg aching painfully. yt
Dana: I know I saved myself from an almost certain defeat there. The crate lid slams into your leg and you drop the gun. I fall back down to my front, the power needed to swing the lid causing me to fall as well from my knees. I use the momentum to roll and get myself onto my feet, it still somehow looks graceful as I pick myself up, and now I pull the tie from my hair, freeing it, symbolically showing you that I mean business, as I walk slowly with you towards another are of the warehouse. Not doing it deliberately, just walking, hands out with you, the crowd all around us mtc
Dana: both of us are tiring. Both of us are covered in sweat. I wipe the blood from under my nose away. The red blotch on my cheek more defined now, but you have your own battle scars. My chest heaving with each breath I take. yt
Rebecca: I lean against the crate, wincing. My leg throbs in pain. I see you moving... walking towards another area of the warehouse. Is that bitch... is that bitch strutting? Are you fucking kidding me? With a deft movement, you whip your tie free from your hair, letting your brunette locks cascade freely as you move. I snarl involuntarily from the gall of it. I push off the crate, my leg still aching badly, and follow you, eyes burning with hate. (mtc)
Rebecca: I move with you, the crowd shifting with us. Sweat, blood, and pain radiation off of us. My toned abs heave as I gasp for air. My leg moves a little stiffly as I walk with you... a seeming air of casualness that masks the deep and dangerous seriousness of this situation. Ignoring the pain in my leg, I let out a grunt and throw myself forward, trying to take the fight to you... feinting another knee at your belly, but going for a right cross at your face. yt
Dana: We end up in an area with lots of low crates, almost making a ring for us, and we stop there, or at least I stop. You keep going, and aim a hard knee straight for my middle. I am wise to this though. I know your tactics and I am ready for them. I back off and double up, but this leaves me exposed when you go for the real thrust of your attack. A hard cross to my jaw. My head spins painfully and I stumble away from you, landing on my knees. That's the first time a punch has actually knocked me down. I may have even stood up if it wasn’t for the crate, which I am now draped over, chest and stomach pressed to it mtc
Dana: My head may be spinning and my jaw may be throbbing but that doesn’t mean that I am ready to give this up. I push my hands to the crate and try and push myself back up to my feet, my national pride as well as my personal female pride not letting that punch beat me yt
Rebecca: My fist throbs from the impact with your jaw... punching hurts worse than it looks like on TV. I wince, but I know the pain isn't anywhere near as bad as what you're suffering, as you sprawl forward onto a crate, gasping and moaning. I can see you pushing off of it, trying to right yourself. I move in behind you... as you start to raise up, I reach around you from behind, pulling my right arm and elbow into your throat as I "help" you up to your feet, grabbing at my arm with my left hand as I lock on a rear naked choke hold. Pulling your back into my chest, I flex my arms, squeezing. (mtc)
Rebecca: "Night night, princess" I hiss in your ear as I tense my arms, trying to crush your airway under my grip, my chest, hips and abs pressing into your back and ass as we struggle near the crates, my face pressed against the side of yours as we struggle.
Dana: I start to pick myself up but then I feel your arm wrap around my throat. You haul me up onto my feet, and I am on my tiptoes. The height difference is only two inches but right now it feels like more as I feel your almost bare breasts pushing against my back and I start to feel a little feint. Your arm is strong and I really can’t breathe. I see my only chance at staying awake. The crate in front of me. I may not be able to touch the floor easily, but I lift my knees and I push my feet against the crate and shove back into you. I am just hoping there is something heavy in there. Luckily there is, and I drive the crate away about two feet, but I also slam my body back into yours mtc
Dana: my hands clutching at your arm, desperately trying to rip your grip off. I know if you go down, I am going down too, but I know if you stay up I could be in trouble yt
Rebecca: I squeeze, crushing your windpipe and making it impossible to breathe. I can hear you struggling and gagging against the hold. "that's right... you're going down, your Russian slut." I hiss in your ear. The only reply I hear is a gagged rasping gurgle as you struggle against my grip, your fingers locked on my arm. My arms suddenly feel less exhausted as the idea of crushing you and choking you out in front of your gang gives me an extra jolt of energy... (mtc)
(lost text, only one post)
Dana: whatever was in the boxes was light as they skid across the floor. leaving me on my back with you on top. The back of my head cracks first against the crate then the floor leaving me very dazed underneath you, the crates in amess around me, lids falling off half of them, some of them actually tipping over yt
Rebecca: Our bodies struggle in the ruins of the crates... packing material, contest (bouncy balls, knock off purses, fake DVDs, and other things) spill around us as we struggle on the ground, body to body. Some of the shredded straw/paper packing material sticks to my sweaty body as we battle in the ruins of the crate. My hair snagged on the edge of the crate, and the tie that was restraining my ponytail snapped in an instinct, leaving my hair free, though partially snagged. My scalp stings, but I have far bigger problems than that, namely: you. mtc
Rebecca: But at the moment you seem rather dazed. I pounce on that, trying to use it to my advantage. I shift my weight to my knees as I sit up partially, leaning over you. My left hand goes for your hair and my right balls into a fist again, raising it up and swinging it down at your pretty (though now somewhat bloodied) face, hammering down as I try to keep you dazed and off balance. My arms and shoulders scream with pain as I try to fight through that to keep punching. This battle has been on a razors edge for a while, shifting back and forth, and I think (or tell myself) that I can taste victory, if I can only keep the upper hand... yt
Dana: I look up to you and you aren’t having it easy right now. I see your hair painfully snag on a crate and I look up at you a little wild eyed This is coming towards the close of the fight and if I want to win I have to do something pretty effective, pretty quickly. You lean over me and then grab my now loose hair, getting a good handful before smashing your fist down hard into my face. The only thing that stops my head bouncing off the floor is your grip on my hair. My arms fly back, and can’t even come up to defend me right now. I kick my legs up, trying to buck, but not with the power I had before. I give it all I have got though, hoping you are weaker as well mtc
Dana: My gang have seen this position before with the guys, but never with girls, and they can tell I am in real trouble. That last punch really knocked me and I am barely even defending myself right now. They know that this is close to over, and that I am not fighting back yt
Rebecca: Your legs kick up, thrusting our hips into mine, and we totter, then crash over onto our sides on the floor, surrounded by packing material, knock off goods, and the remains of the crate. Both of us are gasping, both of us are running on fumes, both of us are drenched in sweat and our bodies are aching from the abuse we have put each other through. My hand swings at you again, though this time not in a punch, but grabbing at your hair. I snarl, and dig in deeply, fingers wrapping around your brunette locks. I moan, and lift your head up, trying to peel it from the floor and then smack it into the hard concrete, hoping you won't have the strength to resist. (mtc)
Rebecca: Your body doesn't feel like it is resisting as much as it was earlier, but I'm amped, running on adrenaline fear, and pain, and part of my own paranoia is screaming at me "She is lulling you into a trap, strike strike strike before she can trick you!" I struggle on the ground with you, hissing and snarling as we near the end game... yt
Dana: You fall off me and then roll over You go to smash my head against the floor, which would finish me, but I grip your hand. It doesn't stop you, but it takes away some of the force. I know another hard blow will finish me. I look up as you have me on my side, I am not lulling you, but it does remind me that you haven’t finished the job yet. I have been doing this longer than you, and have a killer instinct. I don't know if this will work, but it's all I have left. I look up as you haul me around the floor by my pretty hair, kneeling over me and I slam my foot upwards hard, bending my knee and hoping to smash it into your ribs, I hope that will firstly knock you off me, and to the side, and give me enough time mtc
Dana: to pick myself up, using the crates to pull me up to my knees if I can manage it yt
Rebecca: I sense blood... not literally (though it is there) but figuratively... feeling like I am going for the kill. The slam wasn't as hard as I thought... you weren't defending yourself at first, but your grip tightened, and lessened the impact. Your body went rigid and slammed your knee into me, bucking wildly. I let out a gasp and fall off, dragging some of your hair with me in the process. I crash to my side, clutching my ribcage and moaning, your hairs falling from my hand as it unclenches. I gasp...
Rebecca: I see you crawling up to your knees using the crates. I twist and scoot backwards on my ass, scraping along the floor, the satin material scraping on the rough concrete. I feel my back push into one of the remaining crates, and I grab at it, trying to haul myself up. Sweat drenches my body at this point, my hair a mess, bruises and scrapes covering me... but I'm not done. yt
Dana: I turn to the crates and use them to help me up just as you are using a crate to help yourself up. I look in and see ropes. I grab one as I get up and turn to face you, seeing you are on your feet as well. I have the rope in my hand though, both of us about one punch or blow from being knocked out, both of us all over the place, wobbly kneed. The guys cheering us on, but everything sounds like it is happening underwater to me. I know that this all rests in the next minute, and I am hoping I can use the rope against you mtc
Dana: I throw myself towards you. If it wasn’t for your body being in the way I would actually fall on my knees, I try and work the rope around tour body, not sure what I am going for, but hoping I can work a position where I can tie you up somehow, knowing how hot that would look in front of the guys. yt
Rebecca: I see you throw yourself at me, and I raise my fists, but you aren't going for that... you crash into me. Chest to chest, body to body. I feel something rough and course at my back. Did she grab something? A rope or something? I didn't notice... too dazed and staggered. I can feel the pressure digging into my back, leaving rope burns and more bruises. We squeeze against one another, as the guys scream in approval and enjoyment at our pain... mtc
Rebecca: We are pressed together, your rope digging into my back as our bodies collide. I hiss in your ear, as my chin is over your right shoulder now, so tightly pressed are we. I am partially held up by your grip, but I ignore that fact as I snarl "You think you trapped me? You're stuck in here with me now" I say, sure I heard that somewhere before. My hands ball into fists and I swing blows at your back, smacking at your lower back and kidneys as I try to unload on you while we lean into one another, neither of us able to stay on our feet on our own, but the physics of our hate keeping both of us up ...
Dana: "Finish her Dana...FINISH HER" screams one of my guys as I take you down and I am on top, I just need to land the killer blow. The thing which actually finished you, the rope around your back at the moment. Keeping us close and to some extent keeping me upright. That's when I decide I am going to go for it. "You're right" I say, then you start pummelling my back, hurting but not enough "Until this..." I lift the rope up, around the back of your neck, and then pull hard, slipping my body to the side, and using the rope and my weight to slide around you, using your neck to take my weight, and if I can manage it, to end up behind you, with the rope around your throat, and me behind you. Using the sleight of hand tricks that meant I was such a successful thief mtc
Dana: Those skills are transferrable and now I am behind you, with the rope looped around your throat "Say good night BITCH" yt
Rebecca: We struggle in close: body to body. Muscle to muscle. Strength to strength. I know how much time I have spent in the gym and how much I've put into crafting my form. When it comes down to it, at this late hour, that is what will save me. That is what will let me dominate you. That is what will get me what I need above anything else: a win. Despite the agony I feel, I know this is where I can shine. This is where I feel a surge of hope. Not a flickering, not an ember of hope. A full blown surge. A smile even crosses my pained face... (mtc)
Rebecca: I feel your body flicker, weaken, shift... I feel that moment as my moment of victory. My moment of triumph. And as I am about to double down on it, you shift your weight slip behind me, using the rope to choke me... your movements lithe and supple, not expecting that clever slip, that sneaky shift of form. I gag as the rope tightens around my throat. My eyes go wide. My jaw hangs open. My fingers clutch at the rope desperately, violently, the pressure agonizing. I let out a shout, but it comes out a garbled cough/gag....
Rebecca: "GHHHHHHHHHHHHHHACKKKKKKKKKKKKK!" I cry out as the rope tightens. My eyes flutter, but stay open. I claw, dig, grab, gasp... desperate to try to loosen the pressure as the crowd roars. I am not sure if it is all Russians or not, I don't care. I need to breathe!!!
Rebecca: But...
Rebecca: But...
Rebecca: I can't.
Rebecca: yt
Dana: I pull hard on the rope now, walking backwards all the time knowing that will make sure you are never truly balanced. If you can't balance you can’t begin thinking about countering me, because you will be too concerned with being choked and unable to stand. I start dragging you, and all the while the rope is cutting into your throat I pull hard, and I know that you won’t be able to last very long in a choke this brutal. I keep walking backwards, playing to the crowd, giving them winks as it's clear you are getting worse on your feet, unable to take the pressure and the strain of being choked mtc
Dana: I am walking you in a circle, until finally I turn my back to you, keeping hold of the rope, switching the grip slightly, and then I press my butt to yours, and lean forward. This in turn forces your feet to leave the ground as your back rests on mine, the rope around your throat choking you hard. I will let go the second you pass out, I don’t want a murder on my hands, but I need to feel you go limp yt
Rebecca: I'm dragged backwards by the rope digging into my throat. I struggle and claw against it, but every time I think I am going to find a point to get some leverage or purchase you shift your movement, pulling me another way. I feel my head going lighter, eyes wavering, eyelids fluttering. I claw at the rope and my own skin near it in a desperate bid to find a way out... (mtc)
Rebecca: But it gets me... nothing. I am wobbly, legs wavering, my head swimming, my lungs burning for air. We stop, and I gasp, or try to, hoping to get some air. But you twist, and put us back to back, and then lean forward. My ass presses against yours and my feet leave the ground. My face turns bright red as you drag me forward, squeezing and choking. I struggle violently, trying to find a way out... but I come up short. I feel my eyelids fluttering, and then closing....
Rebecca: My body shudders, then inevitably goes limp. my arms falling to my side, my legs no longer kicking, my body no longer thrashing. I wiggle... struggle weakly. then stop. Limp. Unresistant. There is a scream of anger from the Italian side, mostly on how much money some of them lost, but I'm ignorant of that, as a wave of unconsciousness overcomes me.
Rebecca: yt
Dana: My ending is brutal, cruel, and really there is no need for it. I could have choked you out any way I chose, but this is the meanest. You were already practically out on your feet before I did it. I feel you go limp and then I stand up releasing the rope and let you slum to your front out cold on the floor. My guys all cheer, but when they rush to celebrate I stop them, and your mob know they can’t interrupt either. I bend down seductively and then untie your bra, pulling it off your arms, leaving you face down. I then hook my thumbs into your bottoms, and shimmy them down, over your form ass, your thighs, and then your calves, stripping you completely, but leaving you face down, it’s still humiliating for you, but there's a step I won’t take, I want to humiliate yo
Dana: you for me not for them mtc
Dana: I walk over to one of the crates. Bananas! I pick two up and casually walk back towards you, hips shaking and that smile on my lips. Winning has made sure that all my aches and pains seem to be dulled. I have a real spring in my step now. I bend down by your head. I lift your head by your hair, and your jaw hangs open. I place a banana in your mouth, and smile, before dropping your head and then walking around to your legs. I bend down between them and push the other banana against your own bare pussy, not inside, but against it, and to the guys it will look like its inside. mtc
Dana: I then walk to another crate, and see this one seems to have glass items. vases, glasses etc. I remove them, but keep the polystyrene shapes that stop them from being damaged in the crate. I pick it up and walk over to you. Nice try SLUT" I then tip the crate so the foam shapes drop and cover half of your body, leaving you without dignity, stripping and humiliated mtc
Dana: I smile and pick up my folded clothes, casually getting back into them "tell her to stay the fuck away from me" I wipe my bloody nose and then walk off with my guys, who are cheering and praising me, I know I have their respect forever now, but I know that I can handle myself, and that's worth way more
