“It’s time for our opening match of the evening! Introducing our first lovely contender… She is five foot one inch and one hundred five pounds of exquisite beauty… She measures a marvelous 32D-24-34… She is the Captivating Conqueress… KIRSTEN!”
Kirsten O’Connell was trying her hardest to resist the urge to roll her eyes as the MC’s introduction carried loudly over the PA system. The man’s voice had sounded boorish to her ears, and his choice of words was not especially imaginative. But it had served its purpose despite those shortcomings, and now it was up to her to do the rest. Setting her personal feelings aside, she put on her practiced smile as she strode out from backstage and made her way down towards the center of the venue. Her physical charms were now free to work their magic – the flash of her teeth and the curl of her lips conveyed a bright and exuberant demeanor, while her self-assured saunter exuded a sensuality that was just as enticing. The combination of these well-practiced skills and her svelte body did wonders for winning over a crowd – despite being a relative newcomer, she had already honed this aspect of her craft to masterful perfection.
Capping it off, in her mind, was her choice of fighting attire. The bikini that she was wearing was white, and she felt it did an impeccable job of showing off her curves and providing color contrast against her shoulder-length black hair. Form and function seemed perfectly attuned to what she wanted: this one had a halter-style top with broad straps for the neck and a thin string connection between the cups and around the back; the bottom also had string connections, though these were closer to thick shoelaces in their width. Two rows of silver beads ran along the entire length of the décolletage, matched by another lining the waistband. This suit had become her signature, and it had served her well in every fight that she’d had to date. If crowd reactions were any measure, then it would appear that Kirsten had chosen well.
It was a shame then that the people here tonight wouldn’t get to see it for very long.
Kirsten’s strut down the aisle had brought her to the edge of a large enclosure filled with mud. Like most people, she had strong preconceived notions about messy wrestling, its status, and what it entailed. And like many of those who had been enticed by the lucrative siren’s song of female fighting, she did not think that a trip through a mud pit was the route by which she would achieve the great heights that she aspired to. The proprietors of this club had been persuasive, however. They argued that mud wrestling had room for growth compared to catfighting, apartment wrestling, or boxing, and its recent rise in popularity could skyrocket with the proper nurturing. Their goal was to try and attract a more upscale clientele, and the club looked and felt like they were trying to make good on that vision. Importantly for Kirsten as well, the pay was on par with what she could expect to make from a good apartment wrestling match. All of that put together made it very hard to say no.
The mud put was 16 feet square, rimmed with a wall about 2 feet high and 1 foot thick, and was padded all around in a dark pleather that looked fancy from a distance. Stepping over the barrier, Kirsten’s feet sank ankle-deep into the brown sludge, which felt reasonably thick as she began to wade through it. As she stood at the center of attention, she struck a sexy pose for the appreciative audience and briefly allowed herself to dream big. Her fight record thus far was short, but the results thus far had been encouraging; she could make her bones here and gain a following just as easily as she could in a beach fight or on a penthouse carpet. Who knew – perhaps she could even face a competent opponent in a place like this.
“And now… Introducing her illustrious opponent… She is a sultry five foot two and one hundred ten pounds… Her magnificent measurements are 32D-25-32… She is Electrifying Ecstacy… EMILY!”
Kirsten’s smile soured as the crowd’s attention shifted with the MC’s continued introduction. Watching in stony silence as Emily Clarke stepped out from backstage and started coming towards the pit, she felt herself quickly being filled with a feeling of intense disdain for the other girl. Emily was blonde and tan in contrast to her own dark hair and pale skin, which made each seem like the epitome of what the other was not; and yet they were obviously similar in age and body type, which made them easy rivals for each other. Emily seemed cloyingly effervescent as she worked to win the crowd’s affection; her beaming grin and chipper attitude would likely endear her to many in attendance, though Kirsten would obviously not count herself among those ranks. Emily’s head turned briefly in Kirsten’s direction as she walked and it continued on without missing a beat as she looked out into the stands, but the brunette had felt a cold glare pass over her in that short moment. It was clear that her contemptuous feelings for the blonde were being returned with equal scornfulness.
There was something else, though, that she just didn’t like about the blonde. This ambient dissatisfaction with the other girl quickly coalesced into the tangible as Emily approached. It had not escaped Kirsten’s attention that her opponent was also wearing a white swimsuit. It already looked somewhat familiar from a distance, but as the blonde drew closer, its contours and accents were growing increasingly unmistakable. Finally, the other girl arrived and stepped into the light at the pit’s edge, leaving no shadow of a doubt about her suit.
Emily had come to the fight wearing the exact same bikini that she had.
The shock of the situation passed quickly, and Kirsten’s brow was soon furrowed as she glared vehemently at her opponent. She had caught the blonde’s eyes lighting up with the same recognition, and the other girl’s bubbly demeanor faded rapidly as she returned the livid stare with equal fury. Neither said a word as the former stepped over the edge of the pit to confront the latter, but Kirsten could see that the fashion faux pas had struck the same personal chord for both of them. The two continued to trade spiteful looks and combative postures, which the crowd responded to favorably and loudly in proportion to the growing animosity between them. It was unclear to Kirsten if anyone in attendance had picked up on the real reason why she and Emily had come to dislike each other so quickly and so passionately, but it didn’t really matter if they did. Both she and Emily knew exactly what was going on, and neither would stop until the matter was settled. Both had had their hearts hardened towards combat the moment they laid eyes on the other’s attire, and there would be no room for cordiality between them in this contest.
Posturing between the two lasted only a while longer. The bell soon rang to begin the match, and it was followed immediately by Emily’s voice shrieking with rage as she lunged forward and threw herself at the brunette. Kirsten was taken aback by the blonde’s ferocity, and though she too charged forward, the split second delay meant that her opponent’s momentum carried the field as she was tackled down into the mud. The two landed with a splash in the viscous substance, blonde on top of brunette, but the impact of their bodies on the pit floor brought only the briefest of pauses to the action. Kirsten and Emily quickly thrashed against each other and rolled about as they vied for the top position, and in the process their petite frames began to be covered with an initial coat of mud. Both blonde and brunette screamed at the top of their lungs as if they were fighting for their lives while they struggled against each other, rather than for the petty entertainment of others.
Emily was highly motivated, and she was expending a lot of energy as she tried to impose her will in these opening moments. Her efforts seemed to be paying off though, as Kirsten had spent most of the time thus far trapped beneath her opponent’s body. The brunette tried to take hold of the blonde’s biceps and shoulders, but the other girl’s lithe and mud-slicked form was surprisingly elusive. Likewise, her attempts to push at Emily’s head did little more than smear mud across the blonde’s mouth and chin. Conversely, Emily had a good grip on Kirsten’s hair, and frequent yanks on the dark locks were thwarting or quickly overturning all of the brunette’s attempts to take control.
A right-handed slap from the blonde buffeted Kirsten’s head violently. The sound of skin-on-skin contact was diluted by mud from a sharp crack to a dull thud, but that did nothing to reduce the forcefulness of the blow. Kirsten’s hands fell away from Emily’s body as a torrent of strikes began to rain down – she tried her best to cover up and ward them all off, but there was little she could do when faced with their sheer numbers. Another slap penetrated her guard and connected to her cheek like a blunt cudgel. Another came down without opposition and crashed into her cheek, rocking her and leaving her disoriented.
Dirty hands closed in on Kirsten’s nose and mouth. The sting had barely begun to fade from her cheek when she felt Emily’s fingers pinching down on her breathing passages. Kirsten’s body instantly sprang to life as she tried to escape this new predicament. Her first instinct was to push at the other girl’s wrists, but the blonde’s hands remained firmly planed as she bore down with her full weight behind her arms. Kirsten writhed and thrashed beneath her tormentor, but these struggles were likewise insufficient to dislodge Emily from her perch. All the while, things were becoming increasingly dire with each passing second as the lack of oxygen began to take its toll on the brunette.
Emily’s face remained locked in a fearsome scowl as she maintained the hand smother, but it was reasonable to assume that she thoroughly enjoyed imposing her will in this manner. In contrast, no such feat of imagination was required to discern Kirsten’s thoughts. The burning sensation in her lungs was growing more insistent with each passing moment, and it had gnawed at her composure far past the point of any emotional restraint. Kirsten shook her head back and forth, but could not break the tight clamp of Emily’s hands; she bridged frantically with her hips, but this too was ineffectual. Genuine terror was starting to set in – she pushed at the blonde’s ribs and flanks and inched her fingers up along the blonde’s skin as she searched for any kind of leverage that she could find. Her right hand ultimately came upon the other girl’s left breast – instinct took over as Kirsten squeezed the fleshy orb for all she was worth.
Emily’s anguished scream seemed deafening as it fell on Kirsten’s waiting ears. The brunette reached and groped with her other hand until it too found its way to the blonde’s chest – pushing the bikini cups aside, she grasped the now-bared boobs and began to yank and claw them in earnest. Emily tried her hardest to maintain the smother, but this was a losing proposition – the pressure from her pawing hands was already dwindling rapidly. Kirsten tugged on the orbs with everything she hand, and at last she was able to tear her opponent off to her left and break the suffocating hold.
Kirsten’s lungs heaved with deep breaths as they greedily filled themselves with the fresh air that had been denied to them. Freed at last, she immediately disengaged from her opponent and rolled away, going a full 180 degrees through the mud before coming to a stop on her right side facing away from the blonde. The smother had been crude, but effective – the black spots still lingering in her vision were a testament to that. Fighting to clear her thoughts and coax some life back into her body, Kirsten could at least dimly recognize that her situation was still precarious. The most imminent danger had now past, but she was not out of the woods yet – she could only hope that her window of recover would be enough for when the blonde returned to try and finish what she had started.
The respite proved to be brief and was brought to an abrupt halt by blunt trauma. Emily had crawled up behind her and, from a kneeling position, slammed her fists down onto the brunette’s exposed flank in a double axe handle. Kirsten’s resultant cry of pain was loud, as was its subsequent follow-up when Emily repeated the move; Kirsten tried to curl up into a fetal position, but Emily would have none of it. Bracing the other girl’s shoulder with one hand, the blonde began to drive her fist into the brunette’s ribs with the other, and each time she was rewarded with a new cry of pain.
Kirsten felt herself being rolled onto her back. She couldn’t prevent the blonde from taking her bikini top and pulling it aside to expose her breasts, and moments later she screamed aloud as Emily’s fingernails pierced themselves sharply into her pale skin. Thrashing as pain radiated through her body, Kirsten frantically reached up and yanked on her opponent’s mud-slicked hair, tugging her head down with a fresh shriek. The brunette tried to take control by wrapping her left arm around the blonde’s neck, but Emily quickly moved to match; her right hand went to squeeze and maul the other girl’s left breast, while Emily’s similarly-placed hand ramped up its already intense pressure.
Wild shrieks and howls reverberated through the air as the two girls worked to subdue each other. Their cries were a disorienting mélange of pain, desperation, and rage that perfectly reflected the state of their writhing bodies as they wrestled for control. The muddy environs of the pit made grappling more taxing, but neither blonde nor brunette thought of holding back for even a second. Kirsten remained locked in this hostile embrace with her flaxen-haired foe, wailing as her breast was savagely attacked and roaring as she tore at her opponent’s tit in return. Gaining even the slightest measure of control was a daunting prospect in the slippery mire, and the two rolled back and forth through it without either being able to establish a lasting position on top of the other.
As the two girls came to a stop on their sides, Emily reflexively jerked her knee forward on a direct course for the center of Kirsten’s bikini bottoms. The lack of leverage mitigated the amount of harm that the blow would have done, but it was still enough to elicit an audible groan of pain. Kirsten’s grip on the blonde loosened as her struggles momentarily ceased, and Emily gave her a contemptuous shove that left her on her back in the mud.
The pause in action did not last for long. Kirsten felt a sharp, two-fisted tug on her dark hair that pulled her up to her feet, and upon rising she was immediately met by a spiteful backhand across the chest from her already standing opponent. The blow compelled Kirsten to squeal loudly in pain, but it also prompted her to retaliate with a forearm that bashed across Emily’s jugs and sent her tottering back a step. Kirsten took that as an invitation to come forward and strike again, earning a lusty roar of approval from the crowd as she assailed opposing rack. This time, however, Emily did not retreat; instead, she came forward with a shout and barreled forward into the dark-haired girl. Upper bodies collided and arms became entangled with one another as the two beauties again wrestled with each other for control.
Emily was coming on strong now. This point was reinforced as Kirsten was pushed back across the slippery surface, first one step and then another. The fact that she was losing ground was made even more clear by a sloppy punch that reefed at her midsection. The brunette committed everything she had to fending the blonde off, shoving back at her and repaying the blow with a tidy fist to tummy. But this escalation did not go unanswered, and two more right hands to Kirsten’s midsection halted the rally in its tracks. Both girls were showing their fatigue now, but it was the blonde who was starting to dictate terms, and the brunette knew that her window to act was narrowing rapidly. She reached in and hugged up with Emily, securely wrapping her right arm around the other girl’s torso while her left armpit sandwiched its opposing right forearm; she then bent forward as she pivoted and turned, bending forward and heaving the blonde off of her feet. Emily’s body followed Kirsten’s as she was lofted a short distance upwards before entering a rapid descent trajectory, and in one fluid motion the hip throw ended with the brunette slamming the blonde down into the mud.
The impact of the other girl’s body on the lightly padded surface felt satisfying. Kirsten stopped to savor the moment as she released her and stepped back, allowing both of them a second to regroup. Despite hitting the mat hard, Emily was quick to recover as she pushed herself up to a crouch – her eyes continued to do the talking for her as she glared back at the brunette. There was anger that defied all weariness: fueled by an opponent who wouldn’t quit and stoked by a feud over a piece of clothing. Her own sense of superiority was still there too, as was the insatiable need to prove that superiority to all who were present. Perhaps, just maybe, there was a hint of embarrassment too – resentment over the flashy throw burned inside of her as Kirsten met her gaze with proud defiance.
All of these feelings came together as Emily leaped up and lunged forward with furious vengeance on her mind. Kirsten stood firm and once again locked up with the blonde as she barreled in; muscles tensed and hands grappled for purchase on opposing bodies as the two struggled for control. In the heat of the moment, Emily seemed more driven than ever as she worked to subdue the brunette, but Kirsten did not shy away form the blonde’s aggression. The pair still seemed to be evenly matched for the moment as they vied with one another, but the standoff ended moments later as a second hip throw from Kirsten sent Emily tumbling into the mud once more.
Kirsten’s opponent might have managed to shrug off the first hit without much ill effect, but the same could not be said for the way she took the second. Emily did not immediately bounce back up to her feet like before and instead managed only to roll over onto her hip upon being released. Kirsten’s spirits were lifted as she loomed over her downed foe, but now as not the time for her to be letting up on the blonde. It was not merely enough to even the scales with Emily; Kirsten now wanted more than anything to pay her back in spades.
The blonde appeared to get her bearings back as she began to push herself out of the mud, albeit slowly. Kirsten reached down for her hair and tugged her up the rest of the way. Emily whined as she was compelled to rise, but the protest was cut short by a third hip throw that carried her back down on another collision course with the mat. Emily made no attempt to rise this time after being released, instead rolling onto her back and stretching out limply amid the mud. The cumulative effects of impact upon impact upon impact were readily apparent as she lay there stunned, struggling desperately to shake off the hurt and get back into the fight.
Moving in on the downed blonde, Kirsten sank to her knees and pushed Emily onto her side, settling in behind her. Pressing her knee squarely into the small of the blonde’s back, she then took a firm hold around the other girl’s upturned arm and ankle and wrenched hard on both of those extremities. The tortuous, unnatural contortion of her body immediately brought Emily back to life, causing her to throw her head back and wail loudly in pain. Kirsten tightened her grip on the ankle and pulled harder, trying to work the bow and arrow hold as hard as she could. Much like the blonde’s earlier smother, it was a bit crudely executed, but that did not mean that the hold lacked efficacy. She could feel every movement that the blonde’s body made, and each rock and wiggle burgeoned with increasing franticness. Kirsten dug her fingers in and willed herself to yank on the blonde’s arm and leg even harder. There was no escape to be found from the brunette’s malicious clutches, and the blonde was too tired to muscle her way free. Her efforts to do so amounted to little more than reaching out in front of her with her free hand – a fruitless gesture that, along with her accompanying groans and cries, emphasized how things currently stood between the two wrestlers.
After forcing Emily to endure what was possibly one of the longest minutes of her life, Kirsten eventually relinquished the body stretch and allowed her to slump forward. She paused for a moment to take in the sight of the blonde lying prostrate and wretched in the mud. Kirsten couldn’t see Emily’s face from this angle, but the blonde’s body language told her everything that she needed to know. Emily slowly began to stir and started to drag herself away – she was desperately seeking any sort of break that she could find, but Kirsten was not feeling generous enough to offer her one. Wading after the blonde on her knees, the brunette laid herself out on top of the other girl – her hands snaked underneath Emily’s armpits and then came back around to entwine behind her head. Kirsten applied a light bit of pressure with the full nelson, just enough to harass her opponent and make her plight seem inescapable. Kirsten didn’t try to put Emily out with the hold, though – after all, she wasn’t finished making the blonde suffer.
To her credit, Emily had not punked yet. Rather than giving up, she was using her arms to pull herself forward in short increments, inching her way through the mud towards the perimeter of the pit. Kirsten clung onto her with the full nelson all throughout, forcing Emily to carry her like a dead weight. As they reached the raised edge, the blonde tried to pull herself to a more upright position – the brunette helped her up before turning her around and shoving her back down into a seated position against the padded wall. The brunette slid forward on her knees and sat astride the blonde’s lap – the way was laid bare for her as she firmly clasped the right strap of the other girl’s bikini top and began to take what she wanted.
A right-handed slap plowed into Emily’s left cheek. The force of the blow briefly snapped her head sideways, and as it lolled back into position, a second identical slap sent it swiveling again in the same direction. Kirsten’s next strike was aimed lower and came in the form of a blunt forearm that thumped just at the top of the swell of Emily’s bosom. A short fist to the blonde’s left breast briefly brought her out of her stupor as she let out an anguished wail. The same fist rapped twice in succession on her flanks.
The brunette’s grip on her opponent’s bikini tightened as she continued to work. Kirsten had to admit that its top made for a remarkably good handhold – it was a potential liability that she’d have to look out for in future encounters if she herself chose to continue wearing this suit, but she was having no such problems here in the present. Slaps to the face, punches to the body; Kirsten took the metaphorical strap to Emily as her blows gradually wiped away the last bits of opposition.
Finally, Kirsten relented with her striking. She rose up out of the mud and looked down to take stock of what she’d accomplished. The pose was a bit dramatic as she placed her hands on her hips and stood with her feet planted on either side of Emily’s body, but it was doubtful that anyone would protest. The blonde was making no move to get up from her position sitting slumped against the edge of the pit, and her arms lay stretched out and inert along the barrier rim. It was clear to Kirsten that Emily was thoroughly spent – all of the fire and ferocity that the blonde had brought into the mud pit with her had been completely beaten and wrung out of her.
The brunette reached down and hauled the blonde up to her feet. Taking Emily by the hair, she began walking the other girl back away from the perimeter of the pit. Emily stumbled on wobbly footing as she was compelled to follow, made all the more ungainly as the hair hold tugged her forward in a doubled over position. As they arrived at the mud pit’s center, Kirsten tucked the blonde’s head under her armpit and clutched tightly with her arm around the other girl’s neck; she then dropped backwards into the mud, carrying Emily with her on an involuntary downwards course.
The impact of the Emily’s head against the lightly padded mat brought her night to a decisive end – Kirsten felt the other girl’s body go completely limp in that instant. The brunette released the blonde and rolled her onto her back; she then laid herself out back-to-belly on top of the other girl, lying perpendicularly across the other girl’s torso while her arm stretched out to press down on the upper chest and shoulder. Kirsten thought it a fine pose, and stopped for a moment to arch her back and show herself off for the crowd. A hook of Emily’s leg came shortly thereafter, which was followed by a count of “ONE! TWO! THREE!” blaring over the PA system.
Kirsten released the blonde’s limb and rose to her feet as the bell rang to bring the match to its conclusion. She was still covered in mud from head to toe, but that was hardly important to her now – all that truly mattered in the end was that she had come out on top and left her opponent lying in ruins. The crowd was cheering loudly and enthusiastically as they bore witness to her triumph – the people here were quick to recognize a good fight when they saw one and did not hold back in expressing their approval. Kirsten smiled as she let the rush of victory wash over her – mud wrestling suddenly didn’t seem so bad. Perhaps there was a place of her in a match such as this after all.
The brunette glanced down and looked over her defeated opponent one last time. Emily had put up a hell of a fight, but she ultimately came up short. Kirsten suspected that she had not heard the last from the blonde; Emily undoubtedly would want to avenge herself upon the brunette, and the two seemed destined to clash again.
If and when that day were to come…
Kirsten reached down and untied the strings to Emily’s suit. Peeling top and bottom from the other girl’s body, she stood tall once more and lofted her new prize high in the air for all to see.
…Only one of them would be wearing the white bikini.