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« Last post by MikeHales67 on January 18, 2026, 05:29:01 PM »
“It seems like you two can’t get along”.
Understatement of the bloody year.
I was sitting in Meg’s office with Kimaya. She didn't like me much.
So firstly, I had taken her rightful place in the team for the big fight. Not my choice, it was Meg’s suggestion. Secondly, instead of fighting for my team, I had just sat back and watched while her friend, Priya, my teammate, got choked out by the opposing team. Okay, that was totally my decision, but Priya had finger fucked me. And thirdly, she regarded me as an over-privileged white shit. Her words.
Me, I was sick of her crap, her sniping, her attitude, and I had finally snapped and told her anytime she wanted a good fucking, I would give it to her. She asked, 'You and whose army?' I said no army, I just needed my two little friends here and held up my clenched fists. That was when we got pulled apart, and we ended up in Meg’s office. Although this is a fight club, fighting is not permitted ANYWHERE except inside the Octagon.
"I can get along fine with anybody apart from loud-mouthed skanks who run around telling everybody I'm a traitor!" I protested.
"I can get along fine with anybody apart from over-privileged princesses who think they're not racist 'cos they've got a coconut boyfriend".
"Leave Sam out of this, skank!"
"Make me"
"Anytime, you say, Meg", I looked at Meg. Indicating that I would not start anything without her permission.
"Normally I'd let you fight it out in the octagon, but..."
“...a business opportunity has come in. I’ve been asked to supply a potential new customer with two girls to fight. They specified girls with a grudge, so, seeing how well you two get along, I thought...” She continued.
"...you wouldn't be fighting here..."
"I don't care where I thrash the life out of the whore!" Kimaya spat.
"...but it's a bigger prize pot than usual. I was thinking seventy-thirty..." Meg started.
"Fuck that! Winner takes all..." Kimaya interrupted. She is a pretty Indian girl. I give her that, nice figure, nice tits. But her face is permanently set to angry. Her name, I'm told, means 'divine'; apparently, not foul-mouthed slut, which surprised me.
"...the loser gets fuck all..." She was still ranting.
"...and gets the fuck away from here..."
"...and never fucking comes fucking back!" She looked at me challengingly.
"Fine", I said, coolly as though I expected nothing less. Inside, my heart was beating like the William Tell Overture. I knew I couldn’t show weakness, I couldn’t give an inch in front of her, or else she’d take the mile.
And the winner for best actress in the category of 'someone who's being challenged to a fight'
goes to...
"Anytime, anyplace, anywhere..." I sang the old Martini jingle.
You'd only know it if you watched classic seventies science fiction series. Which I did, 'cos it used to be my Friday treat with my Dad. We'd stay up until midnight scoffing popcorn, after all, it was not a school night, and we'd watch classic seventies SF TV. I miss my Dad. I only get the weekly phone call; it would be nice to see him again. Anyhow…back to reality.
Meg got up with a smile on her face.
"Well, that's sorted. I'll meet you here", she handed each of us a plain white credit card-sized plastic card with a weird logo like a hologram and with an address written on it.
"This is also your pass to get in; it's RFID-chipped, so don't lose it"
"Your taxis will arrive for you…”
Taxis?…Taxis!…Not a bus?
“…at Six O'clock on Saturday".
We both nodded obediently.
"Fight at eight..."
"Dismissed"
Kimaya walked out first. She held the door open for me. As I walked through, she slammed it in my face.
Or at least tried. I stopped the door dead with my foot. Ha!
"You'll get your fucking on Saturday!" I smiled sweetly at her.
"They'll have to scrape up what's left of you in a jam jar!", she hissed back.
"That big mouth isn't going to look so hot when I shove my fist down it!"
All straightforward enough, except on Saturday, my Dad decided to visit. Fuck!
He phoned the day before; he was in Manchester giving a talk, so he thought he'd come and see me. Of course, I said 'yes' and then madly tried to come up with a plan. Hiding evidence that Sam was staying overnight was no problem. However, I was scheduled to fight that night. I couldn't cancel, or I’d forfeit the fight. What to do?
When he came, he offered to take me for a meal. I apologised, but I had to do my MMA practice, sorry Dad, you can't watch. Ladies only. So, Sam would take Dad around the new exhibits at the football museum and maybe have a meal, just the two of you, my men, to get to know each other.
They both went off. I shut the door and waited for my taxi. 'cept the taxi wasn’t a taxi; it was a bloody stretch limo! Picked me up on time and delivered me to a nondescript office block in the Trafford Park industrial estate. It was the weekend, so the place was like a graveyard. Unsure I'd gotten the right place. I walked inside to a typical nondescript reception ‘manned’ by a pleasant-looking receptionist in a black skirt, white shirt, hair in a bun, headphones with a microphone and of course a lanyard. I had no choice, really; Mr Limo Man had already driven off. I introduced myself to the receptionist.
"Have you got your card?"
"Sure". I handed her my card. She swiped it and looked at the screen.
"Sally Whitaker?"
"That's me".
"May I have your phone, please?"
"Okay"
She put it in a locker.
"No photography is permitted in the party area". She explained, "If you need to use a phone, you can make calls from the control panel in your dressing room".
"We defend the privacy of our clients with the utmost diligence", she informed me as she placed my phone in a locker.
"You can retrieve your phone from the locker with your card when you leave..."
"...Officially sanctioned photographs and videos will be provided for a small service charge...if you would like a souvenir of your match. Now, if you'd like to pass through the security arch, my associate will escort you to your changing room". As if by magic, a handsome man in a black jacket, white shirt, tie, and, of course, a lanyard appeared on the other side of the arch. He led me out of the reception down a hallway to a door with a card reader in it. He asked me to use my card, I swiped my card in the reader, the door swung inwards, and I walked...
Through the Stargate into the warehouse. The noise, the music hit me first, then the neon lights; it was party central. Lasers were blazing above my head. A DJ was blasting out...something. Briefly, I thought of the soundproofing needed. There was a crowd, through it gorgeous waitresses in bikinis roller-skated, carrying trays of drinks while entertainers were going around doing tricks. In the centre, I could see a ring, ours probably and a great big fuck-off Jumbotron. It was counting down. I glanced at my watch. Yep, it was a countdown to the fight.
My escort led me to the changing room. Mei, my fill-in second for Sam, was already there. She was a nice girl from Hong Kong, NOT China; she was most insistent about that. We’d fought and I’d beaten her, but we stayed friends. She'd had time to scout around, so she showed me all the facilities. A great-big TV, also the control panel, voice-controlled, of course. Food, and a fridge with drinks in. There was even a jacuzzi!
She showed me my costume. A green satin cocktail dress, black stockings and a skimpy red bikini. Huh! Better than a schoolgirl uniform.
I was about to change when Mister Lanyard knocked on the door. He was checking that everything was okay, we had everything we needed, and we were ready to go. Mei tried to speak, but her face was full of the free canapes she had just stuffed in her face. I told him we were good. He told us we would be escorted to the ring at seven fifty-five. If we could be so good as to wear the robes provided when we walked to the ring.
Fuck me, is this a fight club or a spa resort? As if to remind me of the reality, he continued.
"Your fridge will be stocked with complimentary champagne in the event of your victory, and of course, there will be a full medical team standing by to tend to you after the fight and..."
"...we have a list of recommended complementary plastic surgeons...if required".
"I won't need one, but she might".
He smiled. "That's what she said".
"Good luck". He turned to walk out.
Five minutes later, I was just wiggling, no, I shimmered, into my dress when Mei announced that Meg was at the door.
“Look here, there’s a TV screen so you can see who’s at the door, and you just say, 'Door Open', and it opens”.
“This tech is soooo cool!”
Meg's face appeared on-screen. I said, 'Door Open' and Meg walked in smiling. She was wearing a nice dress, hair done up, and makeup applied. She had dressed to impress.
“Just wanted to check you were all set up”
“We’re good. Mister Handsome Lanyard man filled us in on the schedule”. I replied as I shimmied in my new dress in front of the full-length mirror.
“So, what do you think of the toys?”
“Cool!” I beamed
“…could we…”
“No. We don’t have the money”. She looked around, “I wish we did. This company sets up parties for the ultra-rich. Y'know, you occasionally hear that Mariah Carey did a concert for some sheikh, well, these are the people who organised it. I believe this is a party for a millionaire footballer. He wanted to see an all-out scrap between two beautiful young women, and they would do anything the customer wants. I heard they were looking, so I offered to help".
“Wow! Who's the footballer?"
She taped her nose.
"If I told you I'd have to kill you" She didn't know either.
“I’ve been wanting to get on this company’s books for ages. As you’ve probably realised, they pay incredibly well”.
“Play your cards right", i.e., win, she meant. “And they might request you again”. She smiled.
"Yes, please!" I blurted.
“Good”, she said as she turned to leave. “Regard this as your audition. You’re a good fighter, Sally. I’ll know you’ll put on a good show. I know you'll win”.
"They requested no rules, so they'll only separate you when there's an obvious winner. But bear in mind, twenty years of prison food. They claim they have contacts in most police forces who'll turn a blind eye, but..." she shrugged, "...twenty years of prison food".
With that, she walked out the door.
Mei turned to look at me.
“Y’know she’s probably promised Kimaya the same thing”
“Totally...”, I agreed.
“...the difference is…I’m gonna be the winner". It seemed a reasonable assumption. Priya had picked Anika over Kimaya for her team, and Mei had beaten Anika. And I’d beaten Mei. So, by the process of deductive logic…
Mei sighed.
"Yes, but don't underestimate the power of hate!"
I shot her a quizzical look.
"About a year ago, I was just starting at the gym. They matched me up with some Chinese girl, Xue" she sneered when she said the word 'Chinese'.
“She was slightly taller, more experienced than me. The smart money was on her getting me in a face sit or something even more embarrassing..."
"...they were wrong..."
"...They underestimated how much someone from Hong Kong, me, hates someone from China for all they've done to my country…"
"…And I had a lot of hate"
"Oh, she was a better fighter than me. There were a few times she had me, but I escaped and repaid her pounding with interest. Until one time I escaped, and I didn't stop the pounding. I just carried on. They had to pull me off her, kicking and screaming".
"Who is she? You're the only ch...Oriental girl I've ever seen here". I asked. h
"After the pounding I gave her, she spent a few days in the hospital and never came back!"
Christ!ll
"That's the power of hate. Don't underestimate it. It's like..."
"Captain Cook and the Hawaiians", I completed the sentence for her, and she smiled.
"Just be very careful," she looked at me with a look of genuine concern.
Fight time. I walked out of the changing room, dressed in my green satin robe, my name stencilled on the back. The roller-skating waitresses and the entertainment had stopped; it was just an expectant crowd. All the lights were off except the spotlights on the ring. The crowd parted for me. It felt good, it felt better than that, it felt amazing. It was so different to what I was used to. In these robes, I felt like a World boxing champ or the WWE. I'm gonna ask if I can keep 'em after the fight.
I climbed up into my corner, the green corner of course.
I smiled at Mei while I watched Kimaya get ready. She had a man as her second. Her boyfriend? Nah! She’s a carpetmuncher, like Priya, we were all sure. I turned to Mei, and she shrugged her shoulders with her hands upturned.
“Don’t worry, Mum…”, smiling as I gently tousled her hair.
"…I'll be careful, mum, promise".
A horn bleeped. A spotlight hit me. Over in the other corner, Kimaya’s boyfriend, fuck me, she has a boyfriend! The boyfriend left her, holding her hands and staring lovingly into her eyes. I knew that look, Sam gives me that look. Shit, I miss Sam.
We stared at each other. This was it. Showtime. I fought down the usual nerves and butterflies, then the adrenaline kicked in. The anticipation. I felt sofuckingalive! We walked cautiously towards each other. The searchlights followed us. Our images on the giant Jumbotron screens. A voice boomed out of the Jumbotron, BBC English, no idea who he was, I called him Jumbotron man.
"Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the main event. A no-holds-barred, knock-down, drag-out scrap to the finish, between these two lovely, feisty ladies. In the green dress we have...Sally"
Cheers from the crowd. I removed my robe, handing it to Mei, ‘Good Luck, ’ she mouthed as she stepped out of the ring. I raised my hands.
"And in the blue dress we have...Kimaya!" She waved at the crowd, then pivoted to look at me.
"Where's your limp-dicked coconut boyfriend? Didn't want to see you get beaten up?" she yells at me.
"No, he's busy getting a blow-job off your mother", I chirp back.
She removed her robe, her boyfriend took the robe and departed. She blew kisses at the cheering crowd.
Jumbotron man continued. "Like we said, this is a fight to the finish. KO only. We will have as many three-minute rounds as it takes to get a winner. Now, just to add spice, we have bonuses. Five hundred pounds for..."
"...first blood..." Murmurs of approval.
"...first blood curdling scream..." More murmurs.
"...and the first one to strip your opponent naked".
That one got some wild cheers.
Suddenly, the Jumbotron displayed a countdown: 5...4...3...2...1...
"...ladies begin!"
She charges towards me, hands outstretched like talons. I dodge left. As she runs past, I put my foot out and trip her; she falls flat on her face.
I move towards her, she rolls and kicks out, hitting me in the chest, not the tits, thank God. Fuck she kicks like a mule.
I stagger back, gasping, wanting to clear my head. She scrambles to get up. I knock her down again with a right hook. She lands on her arse but spins with her legs, so I trip. Then, with a growl, she launches herself on me. She grabs at my hair, and I grab at hers. I start punching at the side of her head. She's using her hair to pull my head into her blows; they rattle my head.
I twist my grip on her hair, giving her a free facelift as each of my blows smashes her face, while the bitch is hammering my body. I shift and fire a hammer punch up into her nose. She squeals, her hands going for her nose. I throw her off me.
"FIRST BLOOD TO SALLY!" Mister Jumbotron announces. The screen shows close-ups of Kimaya's bloody face as she rolls on the floor.
I'm up. I bend over and pull her up by her dress, tearing it as I launch a knee into her face. She grabs the back of my knee, shattering my balance. My turn to crash on my arse. She mutters something about white shit and swings a fist straight into my mouth.
Fuck!
She dives on top of me and starts banging my head into the canvas. It's not as bad as a hard surface, but it still jangles my senses, but not enough so I can’t kick up and send the bitch somersaulting over my head. I still have her dress in my hands, and I start pulling it over her head, blinding her. Then I lunge, grabbing what I think is her head, my knee hits something, I pull her head in, and my knee hits something else. Her arms are flaying, wildly. Stupid bitch can't find anything to hit.
She finds my hair and yanks me to the side.
I've still got her head, and I pull her head between my knees and clamp them together. I start pounding the top of her head.
Her hands reach out, clawing at my face, then she twists my nose.
"Ooww!"
I bring both my fists down on her head like I'm trying to smash it open. Then her hand shoots up through my skirt and into my crotch.
"You fucking slut!" I scream.
"Sally is the first to scream, point to Kimaya", Jumbotron man announces as Kimaya grins, really pleased with herself as she prepares to dig deeper.
But before she can get her claws inside me, I scramble my legs, kicking her head and body. My kick hits her in the cheek, and you see her face deform, but she's free, and she moves back, panting heavily on her knees.
I prop myself up on my elbows to face her.
"You dirty, filthy slut, touch me there again, and I'll kill you".
She wipes her face where I kicked her.
"What's the matter, gora? Bring back too many happy memories of Priya?" She mocks as she pulls her dress back down.
Yes, it did. Getting finger fucked by Priya on the floor of that dirty tram carriage after she beat me was not one of my happiest memories.
Still on my knees, I swing a right hook at her grinning face, sending blood and sweat flying. I launch another blow, she moves back, and it grazes the air harmlessly in front of her. She uppercuts my stomach, and air explodes out of my mouth. I start to fall, but as I fall, I swing a left hook which hits her left tit dead centre. The pliant flesh splatted by my fist. She screeches in pain.
I left hook her, sending a spray of spit from her face, then I right hook her, and spit flies the other way. She punches, I block and go for her other unprotected tit, flattening it, another screech.
We both get to our feet. I bounce on my feet and gesture for her to come to me. If she’s going to charge, my fist is ready. She's about to launch a kick when the horn sounds.
“End of round one”. Mister Jumbotron man pipes in at totally the wrong time.
I lower my fists. She adjusts her dress and then spitefully kicks me in the stomach. I gasp and clutch my stomach. I'm about to go for her when.
“End of Round One, ladies”. Mister Jumbotron man reminds us. Angrily, I march back to my corner; the bitch is already in hers, getting congratulations from her boyfriend. I wonder what reception I’ll get from Mei.
“You’re holding your own…”
“…but you should be beating her”, Mei mildly scolds as she hands me a water bottle. I gulp it down.
“Was Anika that tough?” I ask.
“No, but then she didn’t hate my guts”. Mei smiles. Handing me tissues to staunch the flow of blood from my lips.
“Don’t forget she’s done the same training as you and she’s been doing it longer…”
“…and she really, really hates you”
“Round Two”, Jumbotron Man announces.
“Flip the script on her red”. Mei pats me on my back.
We march towards each other, stopping about a foot from each other, staring into each other’s eyes. Not a look of love. We have unfinished business.
“So, you’ve come back for more”, I smarm.
"I want that callback", she demands, like I fucking care.
"They won't call you when you're in a hospital bed", I correctly point out.
She swings, and I duck. She knew I would; her knee smashes into my face. Her hands reach for my hair, holding my head down. As she lifts her knee again…and again…my straight right slams into her gut, and she staggers back.
I charge, my head spears her stomach straight into the ropes. Blindly, my fist comes down like a hammer, smacking into her head. She bends over in pain, and I start hammering her back. Then, I give her hair an almighty yank, pulling her off balance. She spins to the mat on her back. I run at her, kicking her in the face. Splat.
Blindly, her hands catch my foot. Shit. She upends me, I'm lying on my back, and the bitch starts dragging me along the canvas by my hair. I yell, I curse, I scramble at the canvas with my feet trying to get purchase. She backs into the turnbuckle, she stops, pulling me up by my dress. It rides up, trapping my arms and covering my eyes. Shit.
She hauls me up, my arms flailing and slams me into the turnbuckle.
"I'll kill you!" she screams.
Fuck, a metal post still hurts like fuck even if it's covered in leather, and I feel wet liquid running down my head. She turns me around and starts working over my body. I kick out blindly. I feel it hit something. Her crotch. Fuck yeah. She shrieks. She puts her hands between her legs, trying to get relief. I take the moment to sort myself out, more off than on. I wiggle out of my dress and throw it at the cheering crowd. I hear the cheers and hoots. I'm down to my tiny bikini and stockings.
Piling in on her, I want payback, I make short work of her dress and help myself to her top. She shrieks, covering her boobs out of instinct. She shrieks again when I kick her in the face. It looks like someone had painted her face red; the blood from her face mixes freely with her sweat as it drips down her body. So that all you can see is her bared teeth.
She lunges, still on her knees. Bending down, I lunge to meet her. Our half-naked bodies smack together.
My hands go for her hair, trying to rip it out. She has her arms around my waist, applying a kneeling bear hug. I groan as my lower back is squeezed in a vice. I close my eyes against the pain, thrashing and struggling. Kimaya, meanwhile, grits her teeth and shuts her eyes, devoting every ounce of strength to wringing the life out of me. Our breasts painfully squish against each other, and my breasts painfully flatten. My face turns beet red, and my mouth hangs open.
Think.
I swing my hands and slam them together with her head in the middle. That gets a yelp of pain, and I pull her head back by the hair as her bear hug loosens, but she still has her arms around me and throws me to the canvas, but I still have my hands in her hair and pull her over. Her back hits the mat with a slap.
I slam my fist into her gut, and she jack-knifes. My axe handle pounds her head back into the canvas. She grabs my hands, and we struggle, rolling over the canvas. Our hands are punching and grabbing at any exposed flesh we can find. Our bodies are drenched in sweat and blood, and keeping a grip is difficult. She starts pulling at my mouth, trying to fishhook it. I move my head back, ready for a headbutt.
"End of Round 2"
Aww. Mister Jumbotron man, I was just about to smash her face in. She hobbles back to her corner, and I make a point of walking normally to mine. Her boyfriend comforts her. She's just in her bikini bottoms now, with her stockings around her feet. Her coffee-coloured skin has taken on a shiny red hue, same as my face, but I've still got my bikini and the stockings.
"Did I get her good, Mum? I ask as I pull up my tattered stockings.
Mei smiles, "Yeah, you got her good, red", she says as she hands me more water.
Kimaya is over in her corner, with her boyfriend, pointing determinedly in my direction and receiving water and tender kisses from him.
Round three starts, and we meet in the centre of the ring.
I smile at her, "How's the cooch?" I enquire.
"Bitch!" she replies.
“You’re welcome”, I tell her.
She strikes first, lunging at me, but I gracefully dodge, my leg slapping into her thigh; she hobbles, she’s cursing now.
She lunges at me again, and I dodge and launch another kick to her thigh. If this keeps up, I’ll cripple the bitch.
She dives at me again, but this time she’s going in low, her arms wrap around my legs. She pulls, I hit the canvas on my back. Quickly, I roll before the bitch can stomp my guts. Her foot thumps on the canvas, she growls in frustration.
She hurls herself at me again. This time, she goes for my hair, pulling my head back and preparing to punch my lights out. I feel liquid pour from my head. I stamp my foot; it hammers into hers; she cries out, loosening her grip. I roll and get to my feet while the bitch is still hopping on her other foot.
I sweep her leg, and she falls. I stomp her in the guts, and air explodes from her mouth. I stomp her again, but the bitch rolls onto her stomach. So, I start kicking her in the sides and the lower back. With each kick, she emits a painful gasp.
Slowly, she rises to her hands and knees. Taking the invitation, I start kicking her in the stomach. The air leaves her lungs in a wheeze, next kick, and her arms and legs collapse. I jump on her back, and I have one arm around her neck while my other pounds the bitch’s face into pudding.
Her fingers poke in my eyes. I drop her head, my hands going for my eyes, I'm fucking blinded.
She grabs my arm and swings me into the ropes. I stop myself with my hands until her kick to my back sends me into the ropes.
“Gaarghh!”
My throat hits a rope. Shit, I can’t breathe. I fight down the panic.
I'm choking.
Contemptuously, she swings me to the floor by my hair. I’m on my back, she starts to mount me. Her knees are pinning my hands. I can’t move. I'm fucked, and she knows it. She raises her fists, ready to apply the finishing blow. Then I feel it, the sickening blow. It flings my head to the side, I deposit a load of…something, on the canvas. Her next blow and everything’s going woozy. She bends down, twisting my head by the chin, setting me up for the next devastating blow.
“End of Round Three”.
I look up at her and grin cheekily, sticking my tongue out.
Angry that victory has been snatched from her, she slaps my face; it burns. Before jumping to her feet and waving at the crowd.
I rise, I gag a little more before I hobble back to my corner. Mei is there to receive me.
“You’re not gonna tell me off?”
“No. I don’t kick a girl when she’s down…honest”. She continued, “You know what she’s capable of now. You just have to do it to her first…and harder!”
I look over at Kimaya’s corner, and she’s receiving hugs and congratulations from her boyfriend. She's smiling, so fucking proud of herself. I can tell that she’s making promises about what she's gonna do next. I wanna puke. Not 'cos of Kimaya, no, I wanna puke. Now.
Mei passes me a bucket. I puke.
Mei puts her hands on my shoulders, giving me her best sincere look.
“Listen, Red, you’ve gotten out of worse. You beat the snot out of me, remember”.
“Round four”,
As we meet in the centre, she grins. I'm fucked, and she knows it, but I never give up. I never give up.
“Ready for more?”
“You are sooo fucked now”, I promise while trying not to gag.
“Ooooookay", she grins in disbelief.
She kicks her foot, smacking into my belly. I gasp in pain, hugging my stomach. She drags my head by the hair into her knees. I cross my arms, blocking the kick. She tries with her other knee. I block again. She kicks at my cooch, I turn, she misses. But I missed what her hands were doing.
Fuck!
My right arm is twisted up behind my back. She's standing behind me, cackling. The left hand pulls off my top, then her fingers start squeezing my breasts, like she's trying to knead bread. Her thumb and forefinger are digging into my nipple. Yep, here's when I really scream.
That Jumbotron shows close-ups of my pain-filled face and the damage she's doing to my poor tits. But I have a free arm. I try throwing a few elbows. She dodges them; it doesn't matter, just a distraction. I find her bikini panties and then yank them as far up her twat as it's possible to go. Her turn to scream. Music to my ears. I start jerking the material up and down, making a sawing motion. She screams again and squeezes my nipple harder. I think it's gonna burst, but I don't care.
"Bitch", she hisses into my ear. Stabbing her finger into my aureole while I concentrate on sawing her twat in half, I twist her panties, driving them further up her birth canal. She screams so loud I think my ears will burst, music to my ears.
"Whore", I taunt as my head slams back into her face. There's that satisfying Kellogg's Cornflake crunch. Didn't see that coming, did you?
She rears back in pain, hands to her face, blood seeping through her fingers. I turn, my right hook snaps her head to the left. Thwack! My left hook sends it to the right. My uppercut slams her head back hard. Her head slowly wobbles, and her eyes have a faraway look. Then she snaps back and glares at me with a look of undiluted hatred.
I glare back. The feelings mutual, bitch.
Quicker than I can react, the bitch’s hands shoot out, grabbing my panties and a handful of pubic hair; she tears them both out. I scream again and moan as I cradle my red, raw crotch in pain. She waves the tattered panties in her hands, a pleased look on her face. Then I see her glance at the panties. She grabs the other end, pulling it tight like a rope. I know what the bitch is gonna do. She pauses, probably wondering why Jumbotron man hadn’t announced I was naked. You stupid slut, you forgot my stockings. I haven’t. Moving quickly, I whip off one of the stockings from my foot. I do what Mei said, hit her first and hit her harder. I stretch the stocking between my hands and have it wrapped tightly around her throat before she can do anything.
“Urrkk!” She croaks as her eyes bulge and her face turns an unnatural shade of red. My eyes light up with triumph.
Belatedly, the stupid bitch wraps my panties around my throat and tries for a choke. She has to reach behind my neck to wrap it effectively around my neck. The stocking is longer; it's wrapped fully around her neck. It's elastic, so it makes a cord, a far better garrotte than my panties. Bitch. Her mouth opens wider. Gasping for air. I'm gasping too, my bruised windpipe hurts, but I don’t release my grip; in fact, I pull tighter, like I'm tying a bow, real tight.
The horn sounds for the end of the round. We look into each other’s eyes. I won't release my choke; I have her, and if I do let her go, there's no guarantee she won't take advantage and choke me out. I sure as shit ain’t gonna release. One look in her eyes tells me she's made the same decision.
The horn sounds again. And still, down on our knees, we carry on with our duel. Gasping and grunting. Muscles strain as sweat drips down our bodies. My arms trembling with effort. I'm starting to feel light-headed.
And again, the horn sounds.
"Ladies, end of round four".
We heard him, but we're still trying to strangle each other. We sink to our knees as our half-naked, sweat-drenched bodies strain against each other. The Jumbotron shows our purple, gasping faces in all our glory.
Then
"We promised you a fight to the finish, folks. Let ‘em fight it out!”
The crowd cheers. Nobody's gonna break it up, I guess, for the money they've paid; they expect violence. They wanna see how this ends. We're gonna fight to the finish, alright. Her finish. I'm gasping, choking now, I don’t know how long I can carry on, but there's a spacy look in the bitch's eyes, her eyes are beginning to flutter.
I drop the stockings. I don’t want the police knocking on my door. My right hook to her jaw knocks her back, eyes glazed, onto the canvas. Slowly, I don’t feel too good myself. I peel off her stockings. Then I pull off her panties, waving them above my head for all to see.
“Point to Sally!” Jumbotron man announces.
Slowly, on unsteady feet, I stand up. I'm gonna take my time, do this carefully. I'm light-headed, and that little shit is still dangerous. I pull her to her feet by the hair. Her legs can’t support her, I know, mine can barely support me. She's starting to come to, resisting me. I swing her by the hair back into the ropes. She bounces, then, realising she's going to fall over, grips onto the ropes with both hands for support.
Her face is a bloody mask of crimson. Her head hanging down, but you can still see the defiance in her eyes; she's still thinking of how she could turn this around and pound me senseless.
Dream on, slag. I want the next booking. I’m going to wipe that fucking defiance off her fucking face. This isn't revenge, it's cold, hard logic. I put her head behind a ring rope to keep her in place, but she struggles futilely.
Ready, I grab her dangling breasts in my hands, forming my hands into fists. She croaks. I tighten my fist as hard as I can; her udders are slick with sweat and blood. I don't want to lose my grasp while I torture them.
My grip perfected. I squeeze. She croaks louder. Then I start milking the bitch. With one hand, I pull violently down, the tit stretches out beyond all recognition. I get a blubber of pain. Now the other hand, I pull that pliant orb down with all my strength, the flesh turns white with the strain, more blubbering. Now I repeat. I keep up the motion, merciless like a machine. She starts burbling incoherently. But she's not done yet. Patiently, I keep my rhythm. Occasionally, I throw in the odd slap to the face; the slap is hard and crisp, sounding out through the warehouse, amplified by that Jumbotron. I keep this up, unchanging, without pity, I keep pumping.
My own perky, not exactly unmarked breasts jiggle in excitement. That giant Jumbotron's showing a close-up of the bitch's tenderised breasts as well as the agonised look on her face. After half a dozen yanks, her burbling seems to die down, and I release my grip. My hands are aching.
I look at my handiwork. She used to have nice tits. Past tense. Currently, her sad sacks are purple, puffy with bruises, red marks like a roadmap. Horribly misshapen. She really must be in agony. I did tell you that I’m a vengeful bitch, didn’t I? Gonna need that plastic surgeon, skank. My spin kick must come as a mercy. Her mouth ejects a mix of blood and spew. Poleaxed, she bounces against the ropes and then falls face-first onto the mat, landing with a wet splat.
There is a little pool of blood and drool forming around her head, and her hand twitches spasmodically.
The crowd holds their breath.
I stepped back,
Then I said it.
"I surrender"
Louder
"I SURRENDER"
Silence. You're puzzled, aren't you? Why is the girl who just kicked arse, surrendering?
Jumbotron man jumped in.
"What an amazing fight, folks. It was a spectacular, hard-fought, it was brutal. It's a shame there can only be one winner. And there she is. Give it up for...Sally!"
I jumped up and did a theatrical bow and curtsied to the audience, skipping around the ring. They erupted.
I took in the applause. I fucking bathed in it. They were cheering me. Me. The little shit thought I was a privileged white girl. Maybe. But I've had twenty-one years of being a good girl. Please, sir, thank you, sir. When I catfight, I become someone else. I don't embrace the red mist when it comes for me. I fucking become it.
Mei put the robe around my naked body. I'd already decided I was stealing it.
"Fuck, Red. I never thought I'd say this, but you took it easy on me. Didn't you? I'll run you a nice warm jacuzzi and open the champagne".
As I hobbled towards the changing rooms through the crowd. That warm, soothing jacuzzi bath was calling to my aching body. The crowd was a blur. Followed by the medical exam, I passed. I lay in the Jacuzzi, relaxing. I did have an appointment with a beautician. But first, my champagne.
Meg came to see me. Because of my surrender, they ended up splitting the money fifty-fifty. Yes, I had surrendered, but also, I had also beaten the living shit out of her. My parting, was it my parting? Maybe a parting, gift to her. You get to decide where we go next. Do you want the woman who beat you gone, or are you going to try and live with it?
Your move.
Bitch.
"Sally?” Mei knocked on the door and tentatively walked in.
“I thought you said Sam wasn’t coming?”
“Yeah, he was chaperoning my Dad”
“I could have sworn I saw him in the crowd”
“Wha…”
“Was there an old man with him?”
“Dunno, there could have been. There was that old guy wearing an Ian Hunt…”
"Ian Hunter", I corrected. Shit.
"...T-Shirt. He's that guy you like, isn't he?"
"Yes"
Shit.
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