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Hard Money by Mr. Cage

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Sarah O’Reilly Joyce was riding Manny Darnell’s cock, her knees in the dirt with her skirt floating around her perfect ass and swollen belly, a four month old gift from either her blood cousin Billie O’Reilly or Jimbo Joyce, younger brother of her imprisoned husband. Her still milk-swollen tits from her last baby about eighteen months ago bounced, round and full with a broad base, as she rode the dumb boy’s one saving grace, a long, thick pole.

The boy grunted and squirted hot up inside her, she immediately started rubbing her clit until she exploded downward washing him with a flood of juice few other women produced. He was still gasping under her clenched cunt muscles when she heard Hammerhead Jason Joyce’s battered station wagon pull up. He would not be happy with her since her so-called husband was his grandson. The skinny thug was still in jail for beating some old bitty and taking her money when she refused to hire him to repair her roof.

Frantic, she pushed up leaving Manny half naked in the dirt, his gleaming cock waving in the air. She brushed off her knees and hands, smoothed down her knee-length skirt and left the shed walking in dirty half-boots she wore to work around the trailer and sheds. She walked across the muddy parking area with a bag of tomatoes she had picked earlier. Sarah smiled and waved to Hammerhead Jason Joyce, her clan’s leader and he motioned for her to come over to his dented car door where he was lighting up a cigarette.

“How you feeling girl? Up for a hard money fight. Seems the Pakis still smarting over the last three girls you ruined. They got one called Azra who busted that slut Debbie O’Leary same night you ruptured that Paki cunt’s baby belly last month. Debbie lived but she lost her bastard and now they don’t know if she will be good for anything but whoring. Fucking Pakis breed like rats, got to kill them to keep them from popping out bastards.”

Sarah touched her belly, it still had some bruises from the last fight as did her face and arms and boobs. She had finished the bitch off in three rounds of stand up hard, bare-knuckle fighting, avoiding the bare hands no rule fighting that begin with the fourth round. She had earned the name Sarah the Paki-Killer Joyce in the video challenges the Travelers left for each other as the hyped up a clan feud fight.

Hammerhead up some smoke, cleared his throat and spit a glob that just missed her boot. “So gal, can I tell them English Cunts down at the Pit that Sarah the Paki Killer is ready for tomorrow night.”

“What’s it paying?”

Five hundred if you win and one hundred if you don’t. I’ll be keeping half the winnings as usual, but I’ll give you ten percent of the betting if you tell me you going to beat her and do. And if you can bust up her belly like last time you can have half the bonus side money. You lose I give your folks the losing money and see to your medical care.”

“Fair enough Grandpa. I enjoy bashing those Paki cunts, getting paid for is a fucking bonus.”

He laughed until the chain smoking coughing shut him up. Sarah was done with chores now until the fight and that meant she could watch TV, eat, drink beer and smoke some weed and no one could piss and moan about it. It was turning out to be a good day.

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The English businessman and some minor politicians ran the pit, literally a fighting arena built around some ancient stone quarry. The levels cut into the stone walls provided stadium seating on uneven stone for about five hundred or so patrons. The fighting area was a small ring with webbed connected ropes taken from a defunct boxing club. The floor of the quarry had a number of tents set up: selling food and booze, housing officials and dignitaries, and of course two separate tents for the fighters.

Tonight all the fighters were women, only two sets in the bonus money for pregnant fighters. Annie O’Connor five months gone would be the other Traveler woman and she was twenty-two. Their Paki, or Black, or Protestant opponents were housed in the other tent. The Travelers sometimes fought each other on feud nights but on nights like this the punters preferred a bit of color in the contest. For the English they chanted “Pikey verse Paki.” They really did not care if the Traveler women and the Pakistani women killed each other, in fact they probably preferred it.

Four fights in and the Travelers were even against others. Two women were sitting up being seen too and two women were laid out being treated. One girl might have lost an eye. There was so much blood and swelling it was hard to tell. Sarah flexed her fingers nervously. Annie staggered in almost puking but she still had her bulge and her leggings were stained only with sweat, dust and piss and splashes of blood from her opponent’s face. Her face was a swollen bloody mess and her tits looked like battered gourds, swollen and pointing in unnatural directions. Sarah didn’t look as they pulled off her leggings to examine her belly, which had to be reddened or even dark blue.

Sarah would be taped up in the ring because nobody trusted anything they didn’t see with their own eyes. She had shed her clothes earlier. All the fights were barefoot and topless. Most were fought in white thongs, some nude and some in very thin stretching white leggings that tightly held pregnant bellies early in the fight and guaranteed that any splashes of blood from their slits would show up quick and obvious. There was a betting line for first blood from the face, the tits and the cunts. And of course there was a proposition payoff for a rupture, miscarriage and death. These were hard money fights for hard women and hard men. The punters were not exactly humanitarians.

The night was relatively cool and she felt her distended pink nipples harden as much from the breeze as from her excitement. More than half the crowd shouted her name, and the rest a bunch of blacks and browns cursed at her and cheered the Paki cunt across the ring. She looked across the ring and saw a young Paki girl four months gone, a dishonor to her family, but a way of making money that seemed to lessen the immediate need to regain honor.

Azra was about the same age in her late teens as Sarah. She was shorter and thicker with heavier breasts and more hips and belly. Sarah guessed she was about 5’5’’ and weighed in around 140 pounds. The bitch was darker than most Pakis had thick black hair to her shoulders and a thatch showing through her leggings so thick as to hide her cunt. Sarah was 5’8’’ and even pregnant weighed a ripped femininely muscular 135 pounds about ten pounds more than normal. Her 35B cups were now 36Cs and still growing. She had straw blonde hair to her shoulders, thick yet not an animal mane like the Paki. Her skin was pale, even her arms were only moderately tanned. Her pussy was practically hairless.

The punters roared the approval of her young body even with the four month baby bulge pushing against the stretched white leggings. Not many Pakis came to these events and even the Blacks and Protestants preferred whites against browns. Azra merely glared as she disrobed and sit back on the middle ring pad in her corner, strong thick arms on the ropes as they started taping her. Sarah looked across at her opponent letting the hatred grow.

For the fist fight portion they didn’t trust women not to go for the hair so after the first taping of their fists back to their forearms, they were fitted into a hard leather glove with built up knuckles and hard facing for the fingers to mock a closed fist. The leather over the knuckles, back and front of the fist was hard as a rock. She slid her fingers through the finger holes and closed firmly on the solid leather grip. Then they covered the leather with three layers of tape tucking the thumb in place as well. The tape would skin you after a few hits.

There would be no cat shit until they cut off the tape. And the punishment for kneeing and kicking during the stand-up phase were severe, three undefended punches to the body for each infraction. All taped up her hands were hard as rocks, about half again as large as normal and maybe four ounces heavier, but lighter than padded boxing gloves.

The preparations completed two referees gripping their arms to prevent cheap shots walked the girls to the middle where they stood nose to nose, nipple to nipple an in their case swollen belly to swollen belly. As the announcer gave their records and particulars the girls swore at each other. They intended to harm the other in the deepest way possible without mercy, not merely for money but for the simple pleasure of hurting the other, especially in the belly. The vile spiteful girls spit in each other’s face as they cursed and squirmed trying to get at it, but the smiling men held them off and the crowd roared with brutal delight. They loved hate fights, especially the real ones.

Sarah heard the rules recited, but she already knew them by heart and pain. Five minutes of stand up fighting with the fists only. Clenching, head butts, forearms, and elbows were allowed, but knees and kicking were three point penalties. Each time any part of a fighter touched the ground other than with her feet or hand she was penalized one point for each part of ten seconds it took to right herself. A thirty-one second knockdown equaled four points as did a forty-second knockdown. At the end of each round the penalty points were resolved with alternating punches to unprotected bodies at a distance of approximately one foot. The woman on the short end of the punishment choose the time during the five minute rest to receive the blows. You had a man behind you to keep you from winding up so your short punch had to be effective and another to hold your elbows when on the receiving end.

The timekeeper rang a large brass bell and shouted, “Pikey verses Paki!” The crowd roared.

Azra came out slowly, her left fist up to guard her face, elbow down to guard her boob from the side blow and her right hovering just under her swollen brown boob ready to fend off a shot to her swollen belly or move up to cover the boobs and face. Sarah moved quicker, on the balls of her feet, not bouncing like a professional boxer but ready to move right or left. Both her fists were up in a more classical style leaving her swollen white nylon legging covered belly wide open. They locked eyes. Hatred flared between them as they circled getting closer.

Azra could not resist the belly. She hammered a straight right down hard on the top of Sarah’s belly and the pain was even worse than the last time. Sarah gasped, but the pain drove her right straight into the Paki’s left cheek. The belly thud got a groan from the crowd and the solid smack on the Paki girl’s left cheek got a roar. The black hair flew and she staggered back, a mouse forming already.

Sarah’s left crazed Azra’s right ear as her head turned. Charging forward, the Traveler girl drove her right into Azra’s mouth as she tried to twist away. Again the black hair flew. Azra grunted and ducked under Sarah’s fast left, blood dripping from a split upper lip and nailed the wide open blonde on her mound with a right uppercut. Sarah squealed and started to fall, but her hands landed on the Paki’s sweaty brown back and she pushed her opponent down and back as she managed to keep her knees from folding.

Azra stumbled backwards almost falling, but caught herself on the ropes and moved toward the hurt blonde. Sarah steeled herself and drove a straight right through the Paki’s guard into her mouth again. As Azra’s head snapped and blood spattered. Azra’s right smashed into Sarah’s left eye and sent her staggering to the rope blinking. Both women recovered, Azra on the attack first.

The Paki closed in head down. Her right fist hit Sarah’s belly with a thud and her left forearm crushed both the white tits against the breast bone pushing Sarah into the ropes and pinning her there. Sarah’s right hit the Paki on the left ear, but did not stop her. Azra kept the pressure on the blonde’s swollen tits grinding them up and down while digging three short right uppercuts into the underside of Sarah’s belly.

Sarah’s eyes filled with tears, but not fear. As a fourth uppercut bounced her baby belly, her right slammed up into the Paki’s chin driving her backwards a step. Then Sarah brought the right down on the left forearm, hurting her own tits but freeing them. Azra planted her feet and fired a right straight at Sarah’s swelling left eye, but the blonde had ducked down and returned an uppercut to the cunt. Azra’s fist flew over the blonde’s head and she rammed into her while her knees were folding. The blonde sank against the ropes again as Azra hooked her right around the blonde’s neck for support.

Azra gasped for some air as Sarah recovered from the impact. The Traveler struck first, hooking her right and left into Azra’s belly again and again. Supported by her arm wrapped around the blonde’s head, the Paki grunted and groaned trying to get the leg strength to get away. She finally slide around on the ropes, taped hand behind Sarah’s head. Sarah bounced off the ropes and turned to slam her left fist into the Paki’s right boob pancaking it on her chest.

Azra leaked milk for the first time, only a few saw it and they cheered. The referee signaled that the Pikey had drawn milk from the right boob first. A number of proposition bets were just settled. Sarah’s right to the face was blocked by Azra’s left arm. Sarah’s left hammered the brown ribs as the Paki shifted on the ropes. Sarah was too close to get in a good punch.

As her taped fists hammered the back of the dark woman’s head and back, Azra shocked them all grabbing Sarah around the waist, pressing her brown tits flat against the white clad belly and amazingly lifted the blonde girl off the ground and threw her to the canvas.

There was a bit of booing, but the referee looked at the ringside and throwing was allowed since clinching was allowed. The referee began a count. Sarah was stunned but she scrambled to her feet by the count of eight. The referee stepped back and Azra charged in.

Azra’s right fist hammered Sarah’s left eye again this time on the eyebrow. Sarah staggered into the corner. Azra fired her left, but it was blocked. Her right was blocked. She changed from the blonde’s head to her belly and scored to hard wobbling punches to the mass. The Pikey wobbled on the center corner pad, her hands up guarding her head. She took four savage belly busters until the bell saved her.

Sarah took two minutes of her five minute break and then stood for punishment. Azra was due a free body punch. Hands grabbed Sarah’s elbows and held her firm. Another man stood behind Azra to keep her from drawing back. About half the crowd was yelling for the brown woman to go for the belly. She did, driving a straight right into Sarah’s poking outward belly button. Sarah cried out and almost pissed herself. Being held up seemed to make the punches so much worse. She now had three minutes to recover.

She heard Hammerhead screaming, “Stop fucking about and rupture that Paki whore. I want to see her fill her leggings. Sarah ignored him. Her belly felt as bad now as it had after three rounds in her last fight. She could feel her left eye closing slowly. Another punch and either her brow or her cheek would rupture, maybe both. That meant the Paki’s strong right would be coming at her blind side. The Paki was gasping and bleeding from the mouth and maybe the nose, leaking from a tit. Sarah had scored a lot of first blood and milk, but she was taking the worst of it for sure. That had to change.

The second round began with the Paki on the attack and the Pikey retreating and blocking. Azra’s hooks kept breezing by the blonde’s face. Sarah let the booing from the crowd bounce off her sweaty back, she could care less because there were no judges for these fights. The fights ended with one standing and the other not. Azra started huffing and puffing cursing, “Stand and fight you Pikey cunt!”

The Paki lunged forward finally driving her straight right through the blonde’s bobbing and weaving guard smashing the left breast flat, getting a squirt and second milk. The impact knocked the blonde back to the ropes. She bounced and took a hard left to the right eye and then a right to the left cheek splitting the swollen cheek open for about an inch. Blood squirted and the blonde twisted in a circle and hit the canvas on all fours, blood dripping down splashing on the oft stained canvas, her tits and belly hanging. The count started.

She pushed up by nine obviously wounded. The Paki charged in with a big roundhouse right. But Sarah had been in trouble before, even knocked down for a count of forty-five in a fight she eventually won. Fighting hurt was second nature to the blonde.

The big punch swirled over her head and she jammed her head into the Paki’s strong jaw driving her head back and sending her stagger-stepping backwards. The Pikey kept her head on the Paki’s chest and hooked hard rights and lefts to either side of the baby bump. The crowd’s roar drowned out the Paki’s grunts, but Sarah felt the solid thud of her hard fists on the water gourd-like belly. The Paki’s staggering feet got tangled and she fell back just missing the ropes and sit down hard on her ass.

The crowd roared as the Paki held her belly moaning. Her corner was yelling for her to stand. At the count of nine she grabbed the ropes and wobbled over to her right knee and left foot. She gasped as she stood up at the count of fifteen and turned to face the savage Pikey that had just about busted her belly open. She had pissed herself but no blood yet. Gasping and furious she waited on the ropes.

Sarah moved in slowly. She could barely see out of her left eye, but at least the cut was below the eye. She flicked out her left like it was a boxing match. Worrying at Azra’s right eye and cheek. The Paki pushed off the ropes and punched back crushing Sarah’s shredded lips again. The blonde took the pain and drove her right into Azra’s brown nose, rocking the girl hard. She fell into the ropes holding on with her left arm. Her right fist was up trying to cover her bloody nose.

Sarah stepped in and drove her right in low targeting the Paki’s inverted belly button. The solid whopping thud was followed by another sitting down collapse. Azra took a fifteen count again before pulling up making her feet at twenty, avoiding an extra penalty punch. Sarah lunged into her driving a left into the darkening belly and a right forearm into the tits, crushing the full breasts downward and forcing the moaning Paki to sit down on the sagging middle rope. Azra bear-hugged the blonde catching one arm and leaving the right to pound on her shoulders.

Sarah cursed and pushed with her free hand trying to free herself from the clench, but the Paki’s desperately strong arms held her sweaty body tight. White and brown skin welded together, the blonde standing and the brown sitting. Sarah drove her elbow down again and again on Azra’s back trying to break them apart, but finally the round ended.

Azra chose to exchange punches one minute into the five minute rest. Sarah slammed into the bruised brown belly at the belly button again causing Azra to sag in the arms of the man restraining her. Sarah taunted her’ “That’s one you Paki cunt, three more to go. Your little bastard is going to filling your leggings.” Azra snarled, “Pikey whore!” Her punch went into Sarah’s bruised belly from the underside on the left lifting it. Sarah cried out and sagged against the man holding her.

The punch weakened the sweaty blonde, but she managed to stand and drive her right into the already darkened bruise around the protruding belly button. Azra’s head drooped and vomited, but that did not stop a downward right hard on the very top of the baby bump. The white fist drove into the flesh and skinned along the sweaty brown belly skinning it in places. Arza’s head pitched back in a howl. Sarah dipped her knees and delivered an uppercut to the bottom of the belly sending it wobbling. The man supporting Azra leaned her on the ropes and the four minutes remaining in the break counted down. The referee checked for blood on both crotches, but nothing direct from the cunt yet.

Sarah listened to her corner nodding from time to time, but in truth she ignored the male voices. What the fuck did they know about what was going on now? Azra was wounded now and dangerous. The Paki was a hateful slag and hateful slags did not go down easy and shake hands afterwards. Sarah was tired, hurt and she could feel every month of her pregnancy times the number of solid punches to her belly.

Azra heard nothing but buzzing in her ears. She wanted to pass out, but when she looked across the ring and saw the pale sweaty Pikey cunt the pain and exhaustion became part of the background. She wanted to see the white face contort with pain as the vile womb vacated itself. Hatred turned her pain to fire and her blood boiled.

The round started. Azra made a beeline for the blonde almost slamming into her, punching low to the belly with both hands. Sarah took some hard crippling shots but stood her ground driving short punches to either side of the Paki’s head until the shorter girl staggered backwards thoroughly stunned.

The initial fury subsided and turned into mutual stalking, opening up wounds on the head and adding to the bruises on the arms and tits. The punches had lost their crispness and some glancing blows would have been knockout shots in round one. Sarah’s left eye was closed now and the lump on her eyebrow was obscene. Everyone kept waiting it for it to pop, but somehow no matter how many punches the blonde took to the eye it did not rupture, just hardened and enlarged.

Azra’s nose and mouth were busted open. She was cut on the nose and the nose was swelling badly, although she did not act like it was broken. Her lower face was a mask of blood and both eyes were swollen, but nothing like the blonde’s left. Where she was hurt the worse was in the belly which was blue brown now and throbbing. And both her boobs were leaking. The blonde kept smashing them flat from above, squeezing the tender flesh hard downward pressuring the nipple, turning the nipples into milk dispensers.

Sarah was gasping, running out of energy and she could not believe the Paki was still standing. She started hammering away at the girl’s head trying to put her down. The Paki staggered until she was against the ropes, but she would not go down. She ducked under a punch and rammed the top of her head into Sarah’s chin causing her to stagger backwards and fall on her ass. She was up before nine and the Paki was on her swinging both fists trying to put her down for good. The blood had to clinch and roll the Paki against the ropes where she lay on her.

Azra pounded the blonde’s back trying to kidney punch her out of the fight, but her arms felt like lead and it was all she could do to breathe with the blonde crushing her sore tits against her chest. Sweat rolled off coating her body and staining her white leggings red, but not from the crotch despite the Pikey’s slut assault on her throbbing belly. She tried to push the blonde off, but the taller girl had an angle on her and refused to get back to fighting distance.

Sarah did what she could to tie the Paki up against the ropes. She was so hurt that another loaded punch to the head might put her down for good, so she held on burning up the clock waiting for her headman to yell thirty seconds. She wanted to get in a finishing barrage and maybe break the Paki’s will to fight on.

She heard his voice shout the signal and pushed off, startling the Paki. The shorter heavier woman was sitting on the middle rope resting. She had turned Sarah’s kidney area into giant bruises and might have the blonde pissing blood for days, but she should have been clinching.

Azra felt the weight lift from her tortured breasts and sucked in a desperate breathe. Her lungs had been on fire. Suddenly her eyes exploded as fists hit her head from both sides. She reached out blindly to clinch, but too late. The Pikey was firing punches into her head and tits from a standing position and she was trapped on her ass on the rope. Every time she tried to stand the Pikey’s bloody fist would smash her back. She finally covered her head with crossed arms and tried to roll forward off the rope, but as soon as she put weight on her knees they folded and she hit the canvas on all fours. The round ended as she pushed up having taken a count of eighteen. Now she faced two punches to the belly versus only one for the Pikey.

Azra went limp in the attendant’s hands when the blonde’s bloody stained fist drove into the top of her belly driving downward, causing the swollen area to deform downward and then snap back in place. Her eyes went grey and for a moment the pain stopped. Then everything rushed back in on her with a roar and she opened her swollen blurry eyes to see the hated Pikey’s bloody mask twisted in the shape of an obscene cruel smile. The bitch was enjoying her agony.

Azra’s righteous fury sent her fist into the bruised round white belly driving into the navel, hard knuckles penetrating deep. The hated blonde’s mouth opened and spittle and blood spattered into Arza’s face. The nasty evil whorish smile turned into a clown-like oh. Then the girl’s knees buckled and she too had to be held by her attendant. For a brief moment Azra felt her face smiling as best it could with the ruptured lips and swollen cheeks. Then the whore’s blue eyes opened and ice cold hatred shone back and Azra braced for more agony. It came and she passed out only to awake in her corner propped on the middle corner pad, her arms wrapped over the ropes. They were cutting off the tape on her fists.

The tape removal and rule change gave them an extra ten minutes to sit opposite each other and stare between slit-eyes measuring the hated breathes of the other, scoring the damage they had done and guessing at how weak the other must be. Matted hair stuck to their ruined faces, sweaty heaving shoulders and down the back. Bruises swelled and blood flow slowly shut down. The aches grew as exhaustion plateaued and began to slowly retract. The earlier proposition bets were settled. The punters had some drinks and more bets were made.

The first of those bets were settled when the girls were asked separately and simultaneously and both replied. The attendants raised thumbs up to the referee and he announced, “Fight on. Five minutes no rules with five minute rests between rounds until someone cannot continue at the start of another round or their corner gives up the fight during the round.”

Sarah’s corner was her greedy clan leader. Azra’s corner was her father who saw his daughter’s fighting as a way of restoring her honor and filling his pockets. Neither girl could count on mercy from her corner so she had to fight it out and win. The two battered and bloody fighters were brought to the center of the ring. Their left hands were placed on the back of the hair and both women filled their fists with the other’s wet, matted hair. The right hands were placed on the opponent’s left breast. As soon as the hands touched flesh they sank their fingers in deep to the milk filled glands, both gasping, both leaking, both grunting as they tried to pop the other’s left boob. The men held them there longer than necessary before stepping off and letting the referee start the round.

Immediately they started trying to overpower each other, jerking hair and boobs. Both were weak and sweaty, so their feet flew and desperately sought balance as one and then the other got tossed off balance. They circled around and around until Azra’s ass touched a rope. Both girls ended up sagging on the ropes, still ripping hair and twisting milk squirting tits. Cursing in between moans of agony, this was an even more hateful fight than the first three rounds. This was woman to woman and they knew the cruelest would be the advantaged. Locked together, the perfect strangers had already become mortal enemies, now they were locked in hatred fueled by pain and exhaustion.

Sagging on her right hip, Sarah brought her left knee up into the underside of Azra’s brown belly. It was a brutally hard shot and the Paki cried out and dropped her right hand to her belly. The bloody blonde snarled and pushed the Paki back along the rope into the corner, where she slammed the knee up again, but Azra blocked it with her own knee. They struggled for a moment and then Azra’s right hand snaked between Sarah’s soggy stained skin tight once white leggings. Sarah’s head snapped back with the hair pull and a howl as Azra’s strong dark fingers ripped out the wet crotch and penetrated the Pikey’s sex.

Now the blonde slid backwards on the ropes grabbing at the hand in her sex. As she did, Azra released the blonde’s hair and nailed her in the nose with a left fist, then a left forearm. The Pikey fell into the corner arms over the ropes, legs squeezing together with a brown arm between them and Azra’s free hand clawing at her face. The blonde’s wagged her head side to side to protect her eyes, but the wounds and the swelling could not be protected. Her sweaty face was suddenly bright red. Sarah screamed loudly as she pulled the hand out of her. The fingers were red as was the inside of her thighs. Azra let her arm be twisted up and drove her knee into the bottom of the Pikey’s rolling belly getting a bit of revenge.

Sarah’s eyes blacked out for a moment as her belly throbbed. For a moment she might have passed out but the pain brought her back. She brought her outside knee up and blocked the following knee. Azra had the superior position on her and was gradually bringing both hands toward her bloody face. Desperate, she ducked her head down letting Azra’s bloody claws slide up the side of her face. Her target was the bud of the dark black swollen, milk wet nipple bouncing on Azra’s chest. The Paki was too busy trying to get her trapped hand free and her other hand back in the blonde’s matted hair. Sarah bit down hard crushing the rubbery bud between her teeth. Azra’s scream brought perverse relief to the blonde’s own agony.

Azra ripped at the blonde’s hair pulling her mouth back, but the Pikey’s teeth pulled her burning nipple upward. In fury she smashed her knee into the blonde’s belly again. This time the bite stiffened and then released. Azra staggered backwards holding onto the rope looking down and feeling with her free hand for her nipple. It was still there, but cracked and pulsing blood and lymph. She was paralyzed by the horror of it too long.

Sarah pulled herself erect with both arms over the top rope. Her belly felt ruptured, but she could still stand on one leg with the help of her arms. She snapped out a savage kick, not to the Paki’s belly but to her cunt. Her instep slapped hard on target. The Paki groaned and sagged on the rope staggering backwards toward the opposing corner. Sarah noted that both of their blood trails had comingled along the edge and the ropes were bloody where they had rubbed their flesh raw. She steeled herself and went to finish the fight and end the Paki’s life.

Azra forced herself to stop examining the nipple. With all her pain, for some reason that seemed to be the most important wound. She had to break free of it and fight back or the blonde would destroy her. Sarah was off the rope and staggering toward her, perhaps ready to kick her again or finish her with knees and fists. Azra lifted herself off the ropes and doubled up her fists.

They faked punches and snatched at each other’s hair. Attempts to kick were pathetically weak. Azra’s thicker mane was seized first, but as the blonde yanked her head down, Azra’s hand found the blonde’s hair. Very quickly they were bent over locked hand in hair, tits and bellies swaying as they hung downward. The crowd was shouting uppercuts, but both girls were already blindly firing upward strikes into the other’s face and bobbing tits. Getting nowhere, the blonde added another hand to the Paki’s black hair and did a schoolyard jerk and sit down.

The impact of her ass on the bloody mat hurt Sarah as did her raising of her right foot. Her belly quaked under the strain, but Azra was slow to respond and the white foot got up in time to meet the brown belly as Azra was dragged forward, downward and then up on the white foot and over like a pro-wrestling move. Azra flipped half way over the blonde and rolled off the foot to slam hard on her side.
Agonized she rolled onto her back, her brown belly even with the blonde’s head. Azra lay there moaning. Sarah tried to roll over but all she could do is suck in air and wait for her own belly agony to subside.

As they tried to recover the sound of sirens slowly cut through the roaring in their ears. Sarah looked up and saw her clan leader’s face. He was reaching down trying to stand her up.

“Get up girl, the fucking coppers are raiding the place. Someone fucked up!”

She could not move fast enough. He dropped her arm and disappeared. She finally rolled over and saw Azra’s belly heaving at her side. She through an arm over it, leaned across the Paki’s belly and started punching at the belly from below. Then she ripped out the crotch of the leggings and started to repay the bitch for the cunting. Azra ripped the blonde’s hair backwards pulling her off and then threw a leg up and over the white belly. Despite the pain, Azra slammed her leg down on top of the blonde’s belly, pushing down trying to squeeze out the thing inside.

Rough hands grabbed them both, pulling them apart. Both girls assumed the round had ended until they saw the uniformed police, men and women, gaping at their injuries. Soon they found themselves handcuffed to separate gurneys being hoisted into separate ambulances. The fight apparently had been ruled a permanent draw by the constabulary. Later an angry judge had sentenced both women to protective custody until they delivered. All Sarah could think was some fucker had forgot to bribe the right copper and now she would not get paid and the Paki might claim she had won.

The End

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