Lisa’s scream cut through the gym, raw and involuntary, as Diane leaned forward, gripping both of Lisa’s wrists and pinning them to the canvas above her head. Sweat poured from their bodies, glistening in the dim light as Diane bore down, her thighs tightening like steel vices.
"How’s that feel, sweetheart?" Diane hissed, her voice dripping with venom and satisfaction. "Still think you’re the one in control?"
Lisa’s green eyes blazed with fury even as her face twisted in pain. She thrashed beneath Diane, trying to bridge her hips and buck the blonde off, but Diane rode the motion expertly, her core braced and her grip unrelenting. Lisa’s ribs screamed under the pressure, her breath coming in short, ragged gasps.
"You're going to pay for this," Lisa spat through clenched teeth.
Diane laughed, low and wicked, leaning down until her lips nearly brushed Lisa’s ear. "You’re already paying. And I’m just getting started."
She shifted her weight suddenly, dragging Lisa’s wrists together and pinning them with one hand while her free hand slipped between them, cupping one of Lisa’s breasts roughly. Lisa grunted, twisting her torso to resist, but the motion only made her more vulnerable. Diane’s fingers dug in, her thumb circling the taut, sweat-slick nipple, pinching cruelly.
Lisa snarled in pain, eyes wide. "You bitch!"
Another squeeze. Another gasp. Diane’s grin grew wider. "Oh, I love when you call me that."
But Lisa wasn’t done yet.
With a violent twist of her hips, Lisa jerked to one side, her legs coiling around Diane’s waist. She shifted suddenly, using Diane’s overconfidence against her, and rolled. The move caught Diane off guard—her body was yanked sideways, her control slipping just long enough for Lisa to reverse their positions.
Now it was Lisa on top—breathing hard, flushed, furious. Her eyes blazed with renewed fire as she slammed her forearm across Diane’s chest, pinning her down. Diane snarled and struggled, her hands clawing for purchase, but Lisa grabbed her blonde hair in both fists and slammed her head back against the canvas with a heavy thud.
"You think this is over?" Lisa growled. "I’m just getting started."
She straddled Diane’s chest now, grinding her weight down, pinning her flat. Diane’s arms were trapped beneath Lisa’s legs, her face contorted in fury and strain. Lisa grabbed a handful of Diane’s sports bra and ripped it in one brutal motion, exposing the blonde’s heaving breasts to the cool air. Diane gasped as the fabric tore, her chest rising and falling with every ragged breath.
Lisa leaned forward, her face inches from Diane’s. "One down," she whispered with a wicked grin. "Hope you weren’t too attached to that."
Then she slapped Diane across the face—once, twice, hard enough to snap her head side to side.
"Submit," Lisa demanded, grinding her hips forward just enough to press her crotch into Diane’s chest. "Say it. Or I keep going until you do."
Diane’s eyes flashed with rage. Her teeth bared in a snarl. "Never."
Lisa didn’t wait. She reached behind herself, sliding back slowly until her thighs pinned Diane’s arms tighter and her pussy hovered just inches above Diane’s face.
"You sure about that?"
Diane twisted her head to the side, gritting her teeth as Lisa lowered herself, hips rolling slightly, teasing the facesit that hovered threateningly over her. Lisa’s fingers combed back through her own sweat-drenched hair, her breath heavy.
"Because I will smother you. And when you’re twitching beneath me, I’ll make sure the next one’s worse."
Diane arched her body in defiance, trying to throw Lisa off with a last surge of strength—but Lisa anticipated it. She slammed her hips down—hard—her thighs flexing, locking Diane’s face in a crushing seal.
Diane’s scream was muffled beneath Lisa’s flesh, her legs kicking against the canvas as Lisa grabbed the ropes for leverage, grinding down even tighter.
"Submit!" Lisa growled again, twisting her hips, rocking forward with rhythmic, brutal control. "Give it to me, you blonde whore!"
Beneath her, Diane thrashed violently, her muffled screams vibrating against Lisa’s heat. Her body bucked once, twice—then slowed. Her fingers clawed weakly at Lisa’s hips, trying to push her off, but Lisa wasn’t moving. She was locked in, grinding, panting, owning her rival with every undulating thrust.
"That’s right," Lisa moaned, her voice shaking with effort and arousal. "Fight all you want, bitch. I’m breaking you."
And then—just as Diane’s resistance began to weaken—Lisa felt the shift. The way Diane’s hands trembled. The way her body sagged.
Then, a slap—twice—on Lisa’s thigh.
Tap.
Lisa froze, her chest heaving, sweat dripping from her brow. She looked down, slowly lifting herself, revealing Diane’s red, gasping face.
Her lips trembled. "I submit," Diane choked out, her voice cracked. "Goddamn you, Lisa—I submit."
Lisa sat back, slowly catching her breath.
"One fall," Lisa said flatly, her breath steady despite the exertion, standing tall over Diane’s crumpled form. Her body gleamed with a light sheen of sweat, but she hadn’t shed a single stitch—her black sports bra clung tight to her powerful chest, her compression shorts hugging her strong thighs. No scratches, no cuts. Just control.
Diane, by contrast, was a mess. Gasping. Red-cheeked. Her bare breasts rose and fell rapidly, nipples hard from adrenaline and the cool air. Lisa had ripped her sports bra clean off to end the first fall—leaving the proud blonde gasping, topless, and stunned.
Lisa rolled her shoulders, her green eyes never leaving her opponent. "Get up," she barked. "Or stay down and admit I’ve already beaten you."
Diane groaned but pushed herself up onto one elbow, her body still trembling from the pain. Her blonde hair was plastered to her face, her chest slick with sweat and humiliation. The bruising along her ribs from the last exchange was already blooming.
"I’m not done," Diane growled through her teeth, staggering to her knees. Her gray fight shorts were soaked with sweat, riding low on her hips. They were the only thing left on her body, the last strip of defiance clinging to her pride.
Lisa smirked. "You will be."
They circled again. Slower this time. Lisa calm and calculated, Diane gritting her teeth, shaking off the sting of defeat. The air in the gym was heavy—thick with the scent of sweat, adrenaline, and something primal underneath.
Diane struck first, lunging with a wide hook aimed for Lisa’s ribs. Lisa blocked it, but Diane followed with a shoulder-check that caught Lisa off-balance. She wrapped her arms around Lisa’s waist and drove her backward into the turnbuckles with a sharp grunt.
Lisa grunted as her back slammed into the padding, but she recovered instantly, raking her nails down Diane’s back, drawing a yelp. Diane flinched—but didn’t let go. She drove a knee into Lisa’s thigh, trying to deaden her leg.
Lisa snarled and grabbed two handfuls of Diane’s hair, jerking her head back savagely. Diane howled as her neck twisted, her back arching as she was yanked off balance. Lisa spun, slamming her down to the mat with a hairpull throw.
Both women rolled. Lisa came up first—but Diane wasn’t out. She lunged from her knees and caught Lisa with a stiff forearm to the chest. Lisa staggered, and Diane pounced, tackling her down.
For a few moments, Diane was on top—straddling Lisa’s stomach, her bare breasts swaying, her eyes wild. She drove a palm into Lisa’s shoulder, then a slap across her cheek.
"You think you’ve already won?" Diane snarled.
Lisa smiled.
Then, in a flash, she snaked her legs up, hooked Diane’s arm, and twisted violently. Diane yelped as she was flipped off-balance, her legs flying up over her head. Lisa followed, crawling over her like a predator, pinning Diane’s shoulders down with her knees.
Lisa raised a hand—and slapped Diane across the face, hard. The sound echoed through the gym.
"That’s the last time you sit on me," Lisa growled, grabbing Diane by the hair with both hands and slamming the back of her head against the mat once—twice—until Diane was dazed.
Lisa shifted behind her and dragged Diane up to her knees by her sweat-matted hair. Diane moaned weakly, her arms heavy, her body limp—but she still struggled to rise.
Lisa didn’t let her.
Instead, she mounted Diane’s back, wrapping her legs around Diane’s sides, and pulled her arms back, locking in a devastating camel clutch.
"Time to break you again," Lisa snarled, arching back.
Diane screamed, her back bending cruelly, her bare breasts thrust forward, her mouth open in agony. Lisa leaned back more, pulling Diane’s chin high, her spine straining like a drawn bow.
"You’re going to give again, bitch," Lisa hissed through gritted teeth. "Or I’ll snap you in two."
Diane’s hands clawed at Lisa’s thighs, then reached for the mat—useless. Her feet kicked. Her spine arched farther. Her throat gurgled with a choked cry.
And then Lisa made it worse.
She altered her grip from under Diane’s chin—and jammed her fingers deep into Diane’s mouth, hooking her index and middle fingers into her cheek, pulling savagely in a cruel fishhook.
The result was instant.
Diane shrieked, her mouth stretched grotesquely as Lisa yanked her head back and twisted her entire body through the hold. Saliva spilled down Diane’s chin as her face was contorted in raw, open-mouthed pain.
"That’s it," Lisa growled in her ear, keeping the fishhook tight, "scream for me, slut. Let them hear you beg."
Diane’s eyes watered. Her body was trembling violently now. Her back arched impossibly far, every muscle straining, her jaw wrenched to the side, her voice a hoarse, incoherent squeal of pain.
Lisa’s control was complete.
Finally—inevitably—Diane’s hand began slapping the canvas.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
Lisa held her a second longer. Then another.
Only after a fourth slap did she finally release the hold, shoving Diane’s drooling face forward into the mat.
Diane collapsed, limp and quivering, her breath coming in broken sobs. Her back stayed arched for a moment before slowly flattening to the mat. Her hair clung to her face and neck. Her breasts were flushed, her mouth red and stretched.
Lisa stood, looming above her like a goddess of war.
"Two falls," she said calmly. "You know what comes next."
Diane didn’t answer. Just groaned softly, her cheek pressed to the mat.
Lisa reached down and slapped her ass hard.
"Off with the shorts," she ordered.
Diane whimpered.
Lisa crouched beside her, grabbing the waistband of the sweat-soaked fight shorts and giving them a warning tug.
"Don't make me rip these off like I did your top."
Diane’s fingers trembled as they reached back. She pushed the shorts down over her sore hips, peeling the clingy fabric slowly, shamefully down her thighs. She didn’t even try to hide anymore.
The shorts came off.
Now she was completely naked.
Lisa stood over her, full-bodied and dominant, not a thread removed. She rolled her neck, flexed her arms, and drank in the sight.
"One more fall, Diane," she purred. "And then I do whatever I want with you."
