Up here it was easy to forget where you were. Fifty floors above street level, the constant traffic and raucous humanity of the city was not even a distant murmur. Only when you looked outside did you realize you were right in the middle of Manhattan. Floor-to-ceiling windows wrapped three sides of the enormous living room, offering a sweeping panorama from Long Island Sound in the east, past the towering spire of the Empire State Building, ten blocks south, to the Hudson River and New Jersey in the West.
The lighting within the room was muted, emphasizing the sea of lights outside. Fifty or so people were scattered in groups, and black-and-white liveried waiters moved deftly between them, offering trays of canapés and drinks. The buzz of conversation was amiable but there was a palpable tension in the air – a sense of anticipation. These people had not gathered here for the breathtaking view.
That was borne out when a dark-haired, clean-shaven man in a sports jacket an open-necked shirt called the room to attention by tapping loudly on an empty champagne glass with a cocktail fork. All heads turned expectantly and the idle chat immediately ceased.
“Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to my home.” His voice bore no trace of an accent.. “I trust that my hospitality meets with your approval.” There were nods and murmurs of approval.
“However, I know that you didn’t come here tonight just to eat my food and drink my liquor.” He smiled, and there were answering chuckles from his guests. “It’s time for the first event of the evening.”
He turned to a slender and attractive blonde waitress who stood at his right elbow, a silver champagne bucket cradled in her hands. She stepped forward and offered the bucket to him. Reaching into it, he withdrew a folded scrap of paper. “Our first contender for tonight is…” He unfolded the paper and paused, smiling, enjoying the moment of suspense. “…Tiffany Marlowe.”
Tiffany’s heart skipped a beat as she heard her name announced. This was what she had hoped for, the reason she had wheedled an invitation here tonight. She had seen the number of names in the bucket when she had added her own upon her arrival, and knew her chances of selection were slim. It had never occurred to her that she would be drawn first.
Butterflies fluttered in her stomach as she handed her half-empty glass of orange juice to a nearby waiter, and picked her way through the crowd to where the host waited, his back to the New York City skyline. She felt the eyes of everyone in the room, and tried her best to hold herself straight and to move with a confidence she was not sure she felt.
This was the big time. This was her chance. She had worked hard to get here, to this party. She had fought in bars and underground clubs for months before she had even heard of the Society, as it was known. It had taken much more than that – more work, more perseverance, more pain – before she had gained a sufficient reputation to earn her an invitation to the most exclusive, secretive – and lucrative – fight club in the entire country.
If she performed well here, it would put her in the big leagues. A win would ensure she didn’t have to worry about paying the rent for a while – quite a while. A loss, on the other hand, would not be good at all. It didn’t necessarily mean she wouldn’t be invited back, but she had heard rumors that it didn’t pay to lose here. She pushed the thought from her mind. She would just have to make sure she didn’t lose.
She caught sight of her reflection in the picture window as she approached Michael. Her gown was Armani, and had cost her a month’s salary, but she was determined not to look cheap here in this company, and it had been worth the expense. The vermillion red silk clung to her lithe body, hugging her slender hips, and the deep plunging neckline showed off her full, rounded bosom. Her thick chestnut hair was pulled up in a tight bun at the back of her head, emphasizing her graceful neck and the smooth muscles of her back and shoulders, left bare by the backless, halter-necked gown. The slit up the left side of the skirt, all the way to her hip, advertised her slender yet powerful legs in matching five-inch stiletto heels. Gold drop earrings, borrowed from a friend, dangled from her ears and a matching pendant hung at her throat and nestled in the deep vee of her cleavage.
As she stepped close to the host – she had been introduced to him briefly when she had arrived, but knew him only as Michael – he smiled and his eyes drank her in with an unabashed gaze that was both appraising and approving. He offered her his arm and she accepted it with a smile as she turned to the crowd. The texture of his jacket under her fingertips told her that she could never have afforded it, even if she had spent a year’s salary. She smiled to herself as well as the crowd as her heart thumped in her chest. This was the big time.
“Welcome, my dear.” He patted her hand, his eyes boring into hers. With an effort, she held his gaze. “I hope you’re enjoying your first time with us.”
Tiffany smiled and nodded. “Yes…so far.” She was relieved that her voice did not betray her nerves.
“Well, I wish you luck.” He turned his gaze to the waiting audience, as did Tiffany, and she saw the eyes of the entire gathering upon her. She recognized some of these faces from the society pages, some of them from the evening news. Others she didn’t know at all, but she had the feeling that was because those people chose not to be known.
The men ranged in age from their late twenties to their early fifties. They varied in appearance, but all were immaculately and expensively dressed and exuded the kind of confidence that only wealth and power could bring.
The women also varied in age. The youngest were in their early twenties like Tiffany, the oldest in their early forties, but even those women obviously took great care to stay in shape. There were no bulging bellies, no sagging butts, no flabby arms. Every woman in the room took pains not with her appearance but her strength and stamina too. Everyone here was an athlete – a fighter. That was the rule, Tiffany had been warned. If you were a woman and you stepped through the door, you could challenge or be challenged. There was no right of refusal.
“And now of course, it’s time for volunteers,” continued their host. “No doubt some of you ladies would like to welcome the lovely Tiffany to the Society.” His smile widened just a little, and he scanned the crowd with raised eyebrows.
Hardly a second went by before a woman stepped forward, a blonde around the same height as Tiffany, in a strapless black sequined evening gown. She stood regarding Tiffany wordlessly for a moment, a hand on one slender hip, her candy-cane pink lips pursed. Finally she smiled. “Well, everyone knows my specialty is fucking up black girls, but I’ll make an exception just to kick your pathetic ass, honey!” She twirled and thrust her butt out at Tiffany as she tossed her hair over her shoulder as she added, “I’m Autumn…count me in!”
There was a round of applause and the host raised his hand. “Thank you Autumn! We have our first challenger…and a worthy one.” He smiled at the blonde’s undulating buttocks as she stepped back into the crowd. “Now…do we have any others, just to make it interesting?”
After a moment’s pause, another voice was raised, quiet but confident. “Yes.” Heads turned as a woman picked her way to the front. Dark haired, with a heart-shaped face and enormous dark eyes, she was slender but taller than Tiffany by several inches, even allowing for heels. The neckline of her plain black evening gown scooped low in front, revealing the upper swell of her breasts, disproportionately large on her slim frame but, Tiffany judged, natural nevertheless. Tiffany guessed she was Eurasian – the Caucasian genes would account for the boobs.
Their eyes met, and locked in a silent challenge. “My name is Emilia, and I promise to make it very interesting,” said the woman. Her voice was soft, confident and without accent. “Not to mention very, very painful…for her.” She smiled, and the room became colder.
Michael chuckled. “And so we have two.”
Another voice rang out. “No, you have three.” A dark-haired woman, maybe a little taller than Tiffany, stood smiling, off to Tiffany’s right. Her voice carried a Latin lilt. “I am Tamara, and I am here to kick your ass!”
Tiffany’s anger had risen with each challenge, each taunt, and now she could no longer remain silent. “You think so?” she retorted. “Why don’t you crawl back to the barrio where you belong, chica?” She looked disdainfully at the new challenger, from the shimmering blue halter dress that hugged her narrow waist and plunged low at the front of show off the smooth pale curves of her breasts Tamara stood with one hip cocked, a shapely leg thrust out through the high slit in her skirt. Tiffany’s lip curled. “Aren’t the johns on your corner getting lonely already?”
The latina’s eyes blazed. “I’ll be glad to,” she hissed, “when I drag you back there by your hair, puta! And my hermanos will give a very hot welcome!” She laughed and turned to the rest of the room. “Let me show this bitch what a real woman can do!”
Michael smiled at Tiffany. “Three…I’m impressed. You’re a popular target.”
“Damn right she is!” called out yet another voice from the crowd. A slender woman with tumbling blonde tresses that fell to her waist was eyeing Tiffany from head to toe with hooded eyes. She raised an eyebrow, a lot darker than her hair. “Reckon you can take me, bitch?” she asked. She raised her arms behind her head and twirled in a circle, displaying her muscular body, tightly clothed in a green backless gown, to the crowd. “Because if you do, that’s just your first mistake of the night.” She smiled. “I’m Wendy, but you’ll remember me as the one who ended your career here.”
Tiffany sneered. “I think your big talk is about as real as your big hair, bitch!” There was laughter from the crowd. “As everyone will see when I tear it out by those dark roots!”
Wendy’s smile vanished. She blushed pink and her lips formed the word “cunt!”
“Not so fast, skank!” The woman beside Wendy pushed her aside and took a step forward. “Wendy can’t fight her way out of a paper bag, everyone knows that.” Even more svelte than Wendy, taller by an inch or so and dressed in a sheer black dress with strategic sprays of sequins that covered her crotch and her high, firm, breasts, she looked around her confidently. “At least make it interesting, and pick a real fighter.”
“Bitch!” hissed Wendy.
“Amateur!” countered the newcomer. She smiled at Tiffany. “I’ll be happy to give you a warm introduction to the Society, honey…believe me, it’ll be unforgettable!” She turned and sidled back to the arm of her date, a muscular blonde-haired man in a blue sports jacket and open necked shirt. “Oh…I’m Hannah by the way.”
“Oh, we all know who you are, Hannah,” replied Michael, to laughter from the onlookers. “I remember your first fight here at our last party…very impressive.”
“She won’t be so impressive when she’s hogtied and begging me not to hurt her!” added Tiffany with a little more confidence than she felt. These women were all fit, muscular and confident. This was a long way from the clubs of south Jersey. Still, she reminded herself, no risk, no reward.
Another woman took a step forward. “Count me in too!” she declared. Tiffany gave her a once over. Similar in height and build to Tiffany and dressed in a floral mini-dress that left her legs and arms bare, long honey blonde hair tumbling over her shoulders, she looked strong and capable. A diamond necklace hung at her throat and her wrists glittered. She was either very well-off, or threw all her money into good imitation gems.
“How could we forget you, Summer?” laughed Michael. “Your last fight was very memorable, though rather uncomfortable for you if I remember it right. Did your parents buy you a new Porsche to replace the one you bet on your fight?”
Summer looked crestfallen, but threw her head back and stared down her nose at Tiffany. “I can still beat this low-rent skank till she screams for mercy, not that – .”
“Shut up, you stupid rich bitch.” An angry voice with a heavy Spanish accent cut Summer off in mid-sentence. Another woman pushed her way to the front of the crowd. Dark haired, olive skinned and strikingly attractive, she wore a black and green embroidered dress that barely covered her crotch. “Let Rocio tear this whore apart.” She wrinkled her nose disdainfully at Tiffany. “You stink like the garbage you are…you and your breasts full of silicone.”
Tiffany could not help but gape in amazement. “Seriously, bitch?” she exclaimed involuntarily, staring at the woman’s large and very obviously enhanced bosom. “Are you kidding me? Does your surgeon work part-time at the bowling alley and use the balls when he runs out of silicon?” She laughed out loud.
Rocio’s eyes widened and her lips drew back in an animal snarl. “Let me have her!” she declared to the room. “I will make her scream. I will break her! I will bounce her off the walls like a futbol!”
The host raised his hand with agrin. “Settle down, Rocio, settle down,” he said with an air of patience that suggested he had this same conversation many times before. You’ll have the same chance at her as everyone else. The audience will decide.”
A raven-haired woman standing near the explosive Rocio, let out a peal of laughter. Curvaceous, voluptuous, she was dressed in a hot pink evening gown with spaghetti straps that strained to contain her massive bosom. “No, no Rocio, que puta pechos de silicona!” Rocio’s head snapped around to face the speaker and her face contorted in fury. The woman smiled at Tiffany and winked conspiratorially, then turned back to Rocio. “The gringo will make a fool of you, carina. Let me handle her and after I kick her ass, then I come back and kick yours, ok?” Strangely, Tiffany found herself liking this woman, and part of her hoped she didn’t have to fight her.
Rocio growled and glared poisonously. “Bésame el culo, Marlu!” she hissed, and followed the curse with a furious tirade in Spanish that was too fast for Tiffany to even follow, let alone translate with her limited understanding of the language.
“Ladies!” called Michael, then louder. “Ladies! Please!” They glanced at him and reluctantly fell silent. “I’m sure we’d all love to see you tear each other apart, and you’ll get the chance later. Right now, let’s focus on the matter at hand.”
Tiffany laughed. There was clearly some history, and a lot of bad blood, among the women here. “By the time they’re done with each other, I’ll have no problem taking them both down.”
The man smiled enigmatically. “If you do well here…win or lose…you’ll eventually get the chance to face them,” he said. “But as many of the girls here can tell you, be careful what you ask for.”
“So what about me, Mikhail?”called another voice. This one came from a slim blonde on the other side of the room, standing near the woman Emilia who had already challenged Tiffany. The two were similar in height and build, though the Eurasian was considerably more well endowed.
The blonde’s accent was from eastern Europe, but Tiffany could not pin it down beyond that. Her platinum hair fell loose to her waist, her arms were bare and her one-shouldered white gown was cut out to reveal the firm muscles of her abdomen. Like the others who had challenged before her, this woman would be a formidable opponent. She felt her nervousness growing. She had no idea that so many would step forward to challenge her, nor which of them she would most – and least – prefer to face.
“Adrienne.” Their host bowed. “Good to see you again, my dear.”
Adrienne smiled at him, but her smile faded as she turned her eyes to Tiffany. “I want you,” she said simply. “I want to hurt you…bad.”
Tiffany felt a chill. “It’s a long way between wanting and doing, bitch!” she replied archly. “But bring it! I’ll enjoy teaching you a lesson.”
The blonde’s eyes narrowed. “If I am chosen, you will be the one who learns a lesson. A very hard lesson.” She clenched her fists slowly as she stepped backward, her eyes fixed on Tiffany’s own.
“You bimbos are all talk!” came yet another voice from the crowd. “All tits, ass and attitude. If this was a bikini contest, you might all be serious threats, but this is about fighting skill, not just the size of your tits!” The woman with the strong opinions stepped out from behind several others. “All boobs and no brains!” She regarded Tiffany with an appraising eye. “Not that this piece of trash is necessarily any different.”
She was perhaps the least physically impressive of all the challengers – a little shorter than Tiffany, in low heels that emphasized that difference, she wore a short patterned green dress that hugged her modest figure. Her chestnut brown hair was loose on her shoulders, and she wore minimal jewelry. Nevertheless, she carried herself with a confidence that Tiffany had seen before, in some of the best fighters she had encountered.
“I’m Amber.” She looked Tiffany straight in the eye. “I’m the one who’ll give you the fight of your life. It will be brutal, but it won’t be personal…though you may not think so, when you can’t sit down for a week after I claw your pussy to shreds.”
There was laughter at that, but one of the men called out “She’s not lying either. I’ve seen it!”
Tiffany held Amber’s gaze. “So you think you can take me.”
“New girl, I think any one of these bimbos could probably take you,” Amber replied with an amused snort, “even though none of them can fight worth shit.”
There was another round of laughter from the Spanish woman Marlu. “This estúpida has had a lot of fights and won many, but she has had too many punches to the head if she thinks I cannot fight.” She smiled and pushed her generous chest out. “Or maybe she is just jealous.”
“What’s to be jealous of about you, you Spanish skank?” retorted Amber. “I know what I’ve seen…you fight hard but you lose in the end. No stamina in a fight…and from what I hear, not much in bed, either.”
Marlu gave her a venomous look but before she could open her mouth again, Tiffany interrupted. “You got a lot to say about other people, Amber, but talk is cheap, bitch. I say put up or shut up!”
Amber grinned. “Oh I can put up, honey…given half a chance, I’ll make you cry like a little girl.”
Michael was tapping the screen on his smartphone as they exchanged taunts. “Entering the challengers so everyone can vote,” he explained to Tiffany.
“Don’t close the vote!” Another European accent rang out around the room.
Heads turned again with a collective gasp of surprise. Michael whispered to Tiffany. “We usually get two or three challenges…this many is a first.”
The woman who had called out was as imposing as Amber was unassuming. Taller than many of the men in her heels, she wore her long blonde hair up in a ponytail that made her seem even taller. Her hot pink dress clung to every curve of her body, and ended at her upper thighs, leaving her muscular legs bare. The muscles of her arms were like steel cables beneath her tanned skin, and veins were clearly visible on her biceps.
“Kriss wants in?” asked Michael.
“Kriss wants to break the new girl like a twig,” answered the statuesque blonde with a smile. She gazed at Tiffany. “To you, I will be the face of pain.”
Tiffany had seen the type before – the woman probably spent every waking moment in the gym and popped steroids like candy. She smiled innocently back at the blonde and then dropped the bomb. “Well, honey, your face is definitely painful to look at. I guess it’s outpatient day at the zoo, huh?” There were hoots of laughter from the onlookers.
Kriss simply smiled. “Like you said to Amber…talk is cheap, bitch.” She held up her hands in front of her, her muscles flexing with even that simple motion. “Remember…” she made a snapping motion, “…that will be you.”
“Oh puh-leeze!” came a disgusted voice from another part of the room. “Amber’s right, you’re all about attitude, and none of you can fight worth shit. Trouble is, nor can she…can you, you little mouse?”
“Shut up, Amanda!” hissed Amber. “You’ve been here once, never even fought here, and you think you know it all.”
“I know I can beat the shit out of you and any of these sad bitches.” Amanda was a blonde, shorter than Tiffany, her hair streaked, her body slender but powerful, unashamedly displayed in a white wraparound skirt that hugged her narrow hips and a shimmering gold lamé halter top that cradled her ample breasts. “Including this bimbo.” She looked meaningfully at Tiffany.
“Are you in, Amanda?” asked Michael. “That makes an even dozen challengers, the most we’ve ever had.”
“Oh honey, I am so in.” Amanda smiled coldly. “I am gonna enjoy beating this tramp’s ass and making her my new slut.” She stared languidly at Tiffany. “You got a sharp tongue, tramp. I plan to put it to good use by the end of the night.” She grinned at the ripple of applause that ran around the room.
“Dream on, princess,” replied Tiffany, though she felt a tiny tingle of fear at the blonde’s words. So that kind of punishment was on the cards for the losers here. She had seen that happen once, but she had never been part of that kind of fight. She repeated to herself as the butterflies took full flight in her stomach – she had better not lose.
The host grinned at Tiffany. “So…a big field, all eager to take your apart, honey. Any preferences on who you’d like to face.”
Tiffany smiled back at him, then around the room, not only at the women who had challenged her but at the entire audience. “Anybody wants to take me on, better be prepared to bring all they’ve got…and to be my bitch before the night’s over.” There was more laughter and resounding applause, though she didn’t know if they were laughing with her or at her.
“Well, it’s time to decide who gets the chance to prove you wrong,” replied Michael. “Ladies and gentlemen, you all have the app. Cast your votes.” Phones were immediately pulled from pockets, belt clips and purses, and the room was silent except for a cacophony of electronic chirps and clicks.
Tiffany held her breath. After what seemed like an eternity, the phones were gradually tucked away. After a long look around the room, Michael took out his own phone, thumbed the screen and smiled.
The audience erupted in applause. Amanda grinned at Tiffany as she handed her drink to a waiter. “See you on the mat, loser.”
Amanda lost no time and with a feral scream, threw herself across the square at a dead run, her fingers hooked into claws, ready to rend Tiffany’s flesh and tear the hair from her scalp. Tiffany was only an instant behind, rushing to meet the blonde with grim determination. Neither woman slowed, neither wiling to give an inch, and they crashed together with a resounding slap of flesh on flesh and a mutual UNGGHHH!!! of pain and fury. Their arms flew around one another and they grappled body to body, chest to chest, legs straining as they each struggled for supremacy.
“Gonna take you down hard, bitch!” grunted Tiffany, her thigh muscles clenched tight as she shoved hard against Amanda. She felt the blonde’s hard breasts grinding into her own, nipples once again dueling through their thin bikini tops.
“New girl, you’re gonna be sorry you ever laid eyes on me!” hissed Amanda in her ear. “By the time I get done with you, you won’t get out of bed for a week!” Her fingers gripped Tiffany’s biceps, digging in deep, the blonde’s shoulders twisting as she tried to gain an advantage.
“Talk’s…cheap…bitch!” Tiffany slid one arm between their bodies and jammed her forearm up beneath Amanda’s breasts, shoving as hard as she could, trying to push them upward. If she could put some pain on the blonde, that might distract Amanda enough that she’d make a mistake and Tiffany could gain the upper hand early in the fight.
She bent her knees a little, changing the angle, driving upward, jamming the bitch’s big silicone boobs up under her chin. Amanda gave a moan of pain as the pressure pulled painfully on her flesh. Tiffany sensed the moment and screamed out loud, surging up and forward with all her strength, sending her opponent stumbling backward.
Amanda glared at her, chest heaving, sweat glistening on her forehead, neck and upper chest. “Oh that’s how you want to do it, huh?” she breathed. “Bitch, you got no idea what you just brought on yourself!”
Again she launched herself at Tiffany, and again the two combatants slammed their chests together like rutting deer with explosive grunts of effort. Tiffany felt the other woman’s arm leave her shoulder, and readied herself for a forearm pushing up underneath her breasts just as she had done to Amanda moments before. Instead, the blonde thrust her hand up under Tiffany’s chin. Tiffany groaned as she struggled against the relentless pressure of the blonde’s arm, which forced her head back, stretching her neck painfully. She knew she was on the brink of losing her balance, forced to step backward or fall.
She twisted her body rapidly to the side, angling her neck the other way and ducking slightly. Amanda let out a cry of frustration as the heel of her hand skidded up Tiffany’s jaw, scraping painfully across Tiffany’s ear and making her yelp. Before the blonde could recover or thrust a hand into her hair, Tiffany ducked lower and whirled to her left. Grabbing her opponent’s arm with both of hers, she continued to turn, tossing Amanda over her hip and sending her down to the floor, to a rumble of approval from the onlookers.
Amanda hit the floor on her side and rolled rapidly to distance herself from Tiffany. She came to her knees and rose to her feet with a fluid, feline grace. Tiffany did not after her immediately, instead taking a moment to get her breath back. Let the bitch run all over the room and wear herself out. The more tired she got, the more angry she got, the more likely she was to make a serious mistake, and that one mistake was all Tiffany needed. She grinned archly at her adversary. “Kinda clumsy on your feet aren’t you, Barbie?”
She took a deep breath. Sweat was already running down her face from the immediate violent exertion in the warm room. She felt her bikini clinging to her skin and glanced down at her chest. The top was damp and already semi-sheer, her rock-hard nipples poking out like fingers through the thin fabric. A few more minutes like this and she might as well be naked – though that would come soon enough, she had no doubt.
“I am SO gonna enjoy shutting your smart mouth, cow!” hissed Amanda, flinging her hair back over her shoulders. She darted forward again. Tiffany ducked sideways to avoid the charge but the blonde thrust a hand out lightning fast and caught her by the hair, jerking her around, dragging her into another clinch.
She snarled as their bodies crashed together again, snaking her own hand under Amanda’s arm, sliding up past the knotted strap of the blonde’s bikini top to claw her way into her opponent’s hair. Amanda grunted in pain, her hard nipples grinding into Tiffany’s flesh. “What is it with you and my boobs, bitch?” grunted Tiffany. “See how much you like them when I’m smothering you between them!”
“Like them?” sneered Amanda. She had one hand around Tiffany’s waist, hugging her tight, their firm bellies pressed together just as their breasts were crushed between them. “Those fucking cow udders of yours…they gotta be real, no surgeon with any self-respect would do such an ugly job!” She let go of Tiffany’s hair and slid her other hand down, linking her wrists and squeezing hard, pulling Tiffany into a bear hug.
Tiffany felt the muscles of Amanda’s upper arms clench around her ribcage, her forearms squeezing Tiffany’s sides tight. The blonde pushed forward, bending at the waist, forcing Tiffany to arch her back. Tiffany’s eyes opened wider in surprise. The blonde was far stronger than she looked!
Reacting swiftly, she hooked her fingers more tightly into Amanda’s hair and dragged them down, scoring her opponent’s scalp, scratching her nails deeply down the nape of the blonde’s neck. Amanda shrieked in pain. Tiffany’s fingers caught in the upper strap of Amanda’s bikini and she jerked harder, feeling the knot come loose. It didn’t matter much – their boobs were squeezed so tight together than Amanda’s top wasn’t going anywhere for the moment.
The blonde arched her back in agony, relaxing the pressure on Tiffany’s own spine for a moment. Amanda gave her little respite however, as she unlocked her wrists, grabbed the back of Tiffany’s thong with both hands where it joined the waistband, and jerked savagely upward with a cry of cruel glee.
Tiffany screamed in pain as her thong pulled tight against her pudenda, digging deep between her lips. “Oh you BITCH!!!”
“Welcome to your nightmare, cow girl!” yelled Amanda in her ear. She hauled upward with all her strength, jerking the thong from side to side. “You wanted the big time…you got it!”
Tiffany ground her teeth together to keep from crying out again as the blonde’s vicious motion worked her thong into her loins, the edge dragging across her clit in an agony of abrasion that made her knees go weak. She reared backward, her back arching far further than Amanda’s bear hug had bent it, and drove her open hands up into the undersides of Amanda’s breasts, crushing them her ribs.
Amanda howled and released her grip on Tiffany’s thong, her hands flying up to grab Tiffany’s arms and try to jerk her hands down. Tiffany was ready for that though, and as her opponent’s fingers closed over her wrists, she released her own hold and threw her hands up high, taking Amanda’s with them.
Shaking her right arm free, she whirled to her left, grabbing the blonde’s right arm in both her hands. Jerking Amanda toward her, she thrust her hip against Amanda’s abs and whipped her own body forward, tossing the blonde bodily over her shoulder. She remembered the way the bitch could roll, and she kept hold of Amanda’s arm, bracing herself so the blonde slammed down violently on her back, bare breasts bouncing, her breath coming out with a loud “UGGGHHH!!!”
Tiffany bent over her with a snarl. “Try to cut me in half, you skank!” She shoved a hand into her opponent’s hair. “Gonna make you pay for that!”
Amanda’s legs suddenly whipped upward, her feet over Tiffany’s shoulders, ankles locking behind Tiffany’s neck, calves clamping tight. Too late, Tiffany felt herself jerked forward and downward. She kept the presence of mind to tuck her head and roll as she hit the rug on Amanda’s left side, and the impact broke the head scissors but jarred her neck painfully. She was shocked at the blonde’s speed and agility. Damn, the bitch was good!
She rolled rapidly to her left, kicking out. The skank was fast but so was she. She was rewarded with the feeling of her knee impacting something hard and Amanda’s answering grunt of pain. Good. She hoped she’d loosened a few teeth.
She drew her legs up, and got her right knee under her to push herself to her feet, but as she did so she felt a hand close over her extended left ankle. She yelled out in frustration as the blonde jerked her foot back and she collapsed, rolling onto her left side. As she tried to twist onto her tummy and pull her right knee up again, she felt Amanda lunge up over her legs. A hand thrust between her thighs, and suddenly the blonde’s grasping fingers clamped down on her fleshy mound, squeezing her hand through her thin thong.
Her eyes flew wide, her mouth gaped and for a moment she was too surprised to scream. Then Amanda twisted hard, and Tiffany found her voice as agony tore through her loins. “AAAGGGHHH!!!” She struggled to breathe as white hot fire shot through every nerve in her body. “Let…GO…YOU FUCKING BITCH!!!”
“Welcome to the big time, new girl!” growled Amanda with malicious pleasure. She gave Tiffany’s pussy a sharp twist. “How’s it feel?” She laughed. “You don’t want your pussy made into a target, don’t flaunt it in that cameltoe thong, you slut!”
Tiffany struggled to focus her fight sense through the awful pain. Clenching her jaw tight to keep from crying out again, she jerked her right leg up and lashed out with her heel. Her feet sank deep into something soft and it was Amanda’s turn to scream aloud. With a sudden surge of hope, Tiffany struck out again, using the kick for leverage to shove herself away from her adversary’s clawing fingers.
Amanda’s nails hooked in the edge of her thong, stretching it, dragging it down away from her crotch, holding her back and impeding her escape. “Not so fast, cunt!”
Tiffany desperately twisted her body, feeling the thong slide a little, then some more, finally slipping past her hips. She threw herself forward, feeling the straps slide down her thighs. She scrambled forward, kicking free, not caring that her ass and pussy were bare to the watching crowd. She had long since ceased to worry about modesty in a fight. What she did care about, intensely, was the burning pain in her pussy. The dirty fucking bitch had clawed her snatch!
She winced as she pushed herself to her feet and turned to face her opponent with a snarl of anger. Sweat beaded on her tanned skin and her bikini top clung damply to her chest. Her right breast was perilously close to popping out of the tight-fitting top, restrained only by the edge of the flimsy cup catching on her hard nipple.
Amanda pushed herself to her feet, Tiffany’s crumpled thong in her right hand. Her top hung from the lower strap around her waist, and her bare left breast was blotched red, the nipple itself flushed and dark. Tiffany presumed that was where her second kick had struck. The blonde rubbed her jaw which answered the question of where the first kick landed. Sweat glistened on her flesh too, as she reached between her legs to seat her own bikini bottom more comfortably over her nether lips.
Tiffany saw the brief instant when the blonde’s eyes darted downward, and rushed at Amanda, ducking low, aiming her right shoulder at the bitch’s belly. She knew Amanda was already half-winded from the hard fall to the floor, and she intended to exploit that weakness. If the dirty skank couldn’t breathe, she couldn’t fight!
Her shoulder drove into Amanda’s midriff just above her belly button but the blonde twirled on one foot at the moment of impact, like a matador dancing with a bull. Tiffany’s arm hooked around her waist, but Amanda’s arm thrust under her shoulder, and the spinning blonde suddenly had her around the waist from behind. Tiffany’s momentum carried them both forward several steps, until their legs tangled and they both went down in a heap.
Tiffany thrashed wildly on her right side. Her right arm was pinned by Amanda’s, but she jabbed savagely backward with her other elbow, feeling it ram into her opponent’s ribs. The violent mention motion jerked her right breast free of her top and it slapped painfully into the floor. She ignored it. There were more important things to be concerned about, like getting her hand on this bitch and tearing her to shreds.
Amanda’s hand ripped through her hair, jerking her head back, and she screamed out as the blonde’s fingers yanked cruelly on her damp, tangled hair. Amanda let out a series of sharp grunts as again Tiffany’s elbow hammered her ribcage, and Tiffany felt a rush of satisfaction. Good shots to the ribs would hurt her, slow her breathing.
She felt her enemy’s fingers catch on the knot that secured her top, tearing it loose, but also momentarily relieving the strain on her hair. Tiffany threw her head viciously backward, hoping to strike the blonde in the face with the back of her school. There was never much chivalry or holding back in this kind of fight, but the bitch’s assault on her pussy had driven any remaining compunctions from her mind. She felt an impact, though not a solid one, and Amanda cursed. “Fucking dirty bitch!”
“You can talk, you pussy clawing cunt!” she hurled back, crabbing her legs around to the right, trying to get herself across Amanda’s body, to trap the bitch beneath her. Her own right arm was still tangled with Amanda’s, immobilizing both their limbs, but her left arm battered Amanda’s body, working lower as Tiffany twisted her torso, driving into the blonde’s upper belly, eliciting more grunts of pain.
Amanda reached across Tiffany’s right shoulder with her left arm, again going for Tiffany’s breasts. “What the fuck??” hissed Tiffany, bringing her own free arm back to grab at Amanda’s wrist. “What’s with you and my boobs?”
“I got plans for your cow udders, slut!” Amanda’s fingers hooked in the outside edge of her bikini top over her left boob, grabbing it, dragging it away, baring Tiffany’s breast. She tugged sharply, twisting the loose upper strap around her fingers, but the lower strap still held fast, preventing her from tearing Tiffany’s top entirely off. As she pulled harder still, the upper strap caught under Tiffany’s right breast, pulling it upward.
Tiffany wriggled her body – let the bitch have her top, it was only getting in the way now – but instead Amanda twirled her wrist and suddenly the strap was looped around her breast. She reached across herself to try to pull it free, but Amanda twisted the strap by twirling her wrist again, binding the base of Tiffany’s breast, squeezing tight. “Gonna squeeze that fat cow titty till you scream for mercy, skank!” She jerked hard on the strap, and Tiffany groaned, already feeling the growing pressure as the blood built in her breast. She stretched her arm further across her chest, grabbing for Amanda’s wrist, trying to haul the blonde’s arm back the other way, to relieve the strain and the pain, but she did not have the leverage and Amanda hauled even harder with a “Ha!” of cruel triumph.
The pain in Tiffany’s trapped breast grew with every beat of her racing heart, and she jerked her shoulders violently, trying to tear her body free of her blonde’s grip, but the movement only made it worse. Her ensnared flesh was growing darker, swelling around the encircling strap, her distended nipple almost black. “NNNGGGAAAGGGHHH!” She screamed out loud in torment. Fuck! This bitch knew how to pour on the pain! That was obviously her thing – make her opponent hurt, wear them down. Well, two could play at that that game – Tiffany just needed the chance.
Amanda wasn’t planning to give it to her. She twisted and jerked on Tiffany’s breast even harder. “You ain’t seen nothing yet! When I get bored with your cow tits, I’m moving back to your big fat pussy! When I get done with you, you’ll be limping back to the bus station with one titty twice the size of the other one!” She gave the strap another vicious turn, and Tiffany screamed yet again. The pain was unbelievable. She glanced down, horrified to see her breast swollen like an overripe plum, the spaghetti strap cutting cruelly into her soft flesh. She clenched her fists, trying to focus though the pain. She couldn’t give up – not here, not yet! But oh GOD it hurt so bad! She screamed again in anguish.
“Newbie!” sneered Amanda. “Got you screaming in pain in the first few minutes! Can’t take the heat, huh bitch???”
The fucking bitch was taunting her! Taunting her! Openly boasting about what she had in mind for Tiffany’s defeat! That was fucking ballsy! Cold anger flooded Tiffany’s mind, closely followed by a steely determination. She hadn’t come this far to be beaten in the first five minutes of the fight. With roar of rage she jerked herself to her right, rolling over onto Amanda, ignoring the stabbing pain in her chest as the blonde’s own breasts mashed into her captive boob. With a sudden inspiration, she flung her left arm back and jerked the knot loose on the lower strap of her top. Freed of that restraint, the flimsy fabric slipped looser and she groaned with relief as the pain eased immediately.
“Fuck you, you big mouth bitch!” she snarled. Pulling her arm up again, she fired her elbow backward once more into Amanda’s stomach. The bitch grunted with pain but her abs were rock hard. Tiffany ground her teeth in frustration and changed tactics, leaning left, ignoring the extra pain that put on her still-snared breast. She aimed her elbow lower, ramming it into the blonde’s lower belly, aiming for the golden triangle of her bikini bottoms.
Amanda cried out, trying to turn her hips away from the blows. Her grip on Tiffany’s top slackened further, and Tiffany took her chance. Whipping her body upward, she tore her breast free of the encircling top, though it gouged her flesh brutally as it came free. Doing her best to ignore the pain, she got a knee under her and boosted herself to her feet.
She rounded on her opponent, ready to grab for her adversary’s hair, ready to rain punishment on the bitch. “Now it’s my turn, skank!” Even as the words left her mouth, Amanda lunged at her legs, the blonde’s buxom chest slamming into her thighs, arms wrapping tight round her knees.
Amanda roared with extreme exertion, and Tiffany felt the strength of her opponent’s arms squeezing even tighter. She shrieked as her feet left the floor and she was lifted bodily into the air, then Amanda fell backward, twisting to her left, slamming Tiffany down hard on her right shoulder. She managed to get to her arms in front of her to break the impact, but it still knocked rattled her and she shook her head to clear her vision as she rolled onto her belly and pulled her right knee under her to push herself up.
Before she could scramble away however, Amanda lunged across her, the blonde’s breasts slamming into her back, knocking her onto her belly again. Amanda’s hand thrust in her hair and yanked her head back painfully. “You’re spending this whole fight running away, bitch!” hissed Amanda scornfully. “Does that tell you something?”
Tiffany tried to pull herself free but her right leg was pulled up beside her waist, her hips pressed to the floor by Amanda’s weight, and she had no purchase to pull with her arms. “Get off me, you cunt!” she grunted ferociously.
Amanda laughed. “Why, what are you gonna do? Beg me some more?” Her hand pulled harder on Tiffany’s hair. “You’ll be begging REAL soon, slut, I promise you!”
Tiffany felt a hand slide up her thigh and, to her shame, cried out in fear. The bitch was going to claw her pussy again! She thrashed furiously but in vain to free herself, and the other woman’s hand pressed tight against her mound. She thrust her right leg down, not caring about getting away so much as the need to protect her pussy. She clamped her thighs tight together, writhing frantically on her elbows to get some traction.
“Don’t worry, slut, I’m not going to tear that slutty cameltoe of yours to shreds!” The blonde laughed cruelly. “Not yet anyway!” Her fingers pushed upward between Tiffany’s nether lips. Tiffany squirmed desperately but the blonde’s forefinger found her clit and she moaned in anguish, tensing herself in anticipation of the pain to come.
To her surprise, Amanda’s finger did not hook and gouge her most sensitive flesh, but instead rubbed firmly though not roughly. A reflexive spasm made Tiffany’s body jerk. Her surprise turned to shock, and a sudden terrible fear. Oh no! The dirty cunt! She wouldn’t!!! “No!!!” she screamed out loud.
Amanda laughed vindictively. “Shut up and take it, slut! You know you’ll enjoy it!” Her laugh took on an even harder edge. “And so will all the people here when they see you cum like the two-bit whore you are, until you beg for mercy!”
Tiffany gritted her teeth against the sensations that coursed through her loins. Oh that FUCKING bitch! The blonde didn’t just want to beat her, she wanted the humiliate her in front of everyone, make her look like nothing but a weak pathetic slut in front of the entire Society.
Amanda’s thumb slipped between Tiffany’s lips and Tiffany groaned. NO! God no! Don’t let the evil bitch push that thumb inside her! Not in front of everyone! She twisted her hips wildly in a frantic attempt to pull herself away from the blonde’s insistent fingers, pumping her pelvis upward, trying to shake Amanda off her, fighting not just Amanda but the warmth in her loins as the bitch tried to turn her own body against her.
“Look at her, humping my hand!” sneered the blonde. “Hey you know this is a fight club, right?” Tiffany heard laughs from the audience, and her face flushed red with shame. The skank was making a joke out her! She clenched her fists in anger. Dammit though, the bitch was right about one thing. Apart from a few brief moments, she’d been totally defensive throughout the fight so far. That had to change, and fast. She had to take the fight to Amanda, start inflicting some pain on her, or the blonde was going to wear her down and humble her.
With a surge of strength, she threw herself violently onto her left side, rolling Amanda off her. That freed her right leg to retaliate more effectively and she pulled it up, reaching back and grabbing for Amanda’s hair. She pulled the blonde’s head up against her side, clamping her elbow down to trap Amanda, ready to wrap her arm around her opponent’s neck to complete the head lock.
Amanda cursed as she had no choice but to relinquish her attack. She jerked her hand out of Tiffany’s crotch, grasping at Tiffany’s elbow, pushing against the pressure on her neck. Tiffany pulled her right knee up high and struck backward with her heel. The kick had nowhere near the force she wanted to use on this bitch, but it still drove hard into Amanda’s lower belly, and the blonde groaned. She shoved hard with her hand against Tiffany’s elbow, pushing Tiffany forward, breaking contact. Rolling away, Tiffany tried to put some distance between herself and her adversary, to give herself time to regain her feet.
This time she managed it, and swayed on her feet, gasping for breath. Her naked body trembled, bare breasts heaving. Her head was spinning at the endorphin from the intense exertion and at the pain from the mauling Amanda had given her. Fuck, this bitch was unbelievable – it was like being mugged by a puma! She stood with her right arm half raised, held protectively across her chest, protecting her right breast which throbbed horribly. She shuddered. She had been a breath away from submitting then, and only minutes into the fight.
Could she do this? Did she have what it took to beat this…this hellion? She had no idea. This was like nothing she had ever experienced. Maybe this had been a mistake, coming here, thinking she had a chance, fighting at this level. She swallowed hard, and wiped the sweat and tears from her eyes with her other hand.
Amanda snorted disdainfully from ten feet away. “What’s up, new girl? Not as easy as you thought?” She tossed her damp hair back off her shoulders. “Did you think I was just gonna fall over? This ain’t the bayou, bitch! Here you gotta earn a win – hell, you gotta earn the right just to be in this room!” She took a deep breath, flexing the powerful muscles of her arms, now fully defined, making her look larger. Her buxom chest rose and fell, her nipples dark with excitement. “How ‘bout you run away now, before you lose more than just your bikini! You don’t have what it takes, skank, and you know it!”
She might be right, thought Tiffany, but a strange calm came over her. Maybe she didn’t have what it took. Then again, maybe she did. One thing was certain – she was not leaving this square without giving it every last thing she had. “I guess we’re gonna see about that. You might win this fight,” she conceded, “but even if you do, I am gonna HURT you, bitch!”
Amanda roared with anger and launched herself at Tiffany, hands outstretched at chest level, ready to attack her breasts again. The memory of that white hot agony surged up in Tiffany’s mind, and fear gave her strength.
As Amanda reached her, she dropped low, almost into a crouch with lightning speed. The blonde’s arms thrust forward over her head, the fingers of one hand barely brushing her hair, and the instant before Amanda’s legs crashed into her, Tiffany exploded upward, her shoulder slamming into her enemy’s midriff with all the force she could muster.
Amanda screamed with shock, pain and anger as her own momentum carried her forward onto Tiffany’s shoulder, and Tiffany’s upward thrust lifted her off her feet, tossing her bodily into the air. Arms and legs pinwheeling wildly, she flew at least six feet before she crashed heavily to the floor, skidding another yard or more on her face and chest. The crowd gasped in surprise, then cheered. They had thought Amanda was about to dominate her all over again. Now they knew different. Adrenalin flooded Tiffany’s veins as sudden elation drove away the pain. She spun on the ball of her foot and strode toward the fallen blonde. “Now it’s my turn, BITCH!”
Amanda pushed herself up on her elbows, groaning, but Tiffany’s heel drove into her back between her shoulder blades and her face slammed down again into the rug as she groaned. Tiffany whirled, throwing a leg over the blonde’s waist so she faced Amanda’s feet, dropping her butt down hard in the small of the blonde’s back. “Try to finger bang me in the middle of the fight, you cunt!!! I’ll show you!” She grabbed the back of Amanda’s bikini bottoms with both hands and wrenched it upward with all her strength.
So savage was the move that Amanda’s hips lifted completely off the floor. The blonde screamed in pain as the crotch of her bottoms pulled tight against into her pussy lips. “Cocky bitch! Now YOU’RE the one who’s gonna learn a hard lesson!” The muscles of her arms bulged as she shook Amanda’s body, whipping her back and forth like a dog shaking a chew toy, digging the fabric deeper into the blonde’s loins as Amanda shrieked in agony and pounded the floor with her fists.
Amanda pushed up with her arms, rising on her elbows, writhing as she tried to rock the vengeful Tiffany off her. That only made her torment worse though, and Tiffany smiled a grim smile as her adversary – no, her enemy now, the bitch had made it personal – helped her wreak her revenge.
She knew what that kind of pain could do to a fighter – right at the core of you, it sapped your strength and your will, just as it had begun to do her, moments ago, though thank God she had managed to break free before the vicious blonde could hurt her too badly. If you let an opponent do that to you for too long, it got so all you could think about was the pain, all you wanted was to make it stop. Now she was going to do the same thing to the blonde, make her stop caring about the fight, make her want nothing more than to surrender and end the pain.
Amanda screamed again and bucked even harder. Tiffany steadied herself, spreading her knees wide. She let go of Amanda’s bikini with one hand and twisted her torso around to snarl over her shoulder. “Shut up and keep still, bitch!” She back-fisted the blonde savagely across the back of the head, and Amanda slumped down to the floor again with a curse.
Regaining her hold, Tiffany hauled upward again as hard as she could. She heard the crackling sound as the stitching in the gusset of the other woman’s bottoms started to give. A surge of savage pleasure coursed through her, and the adrenalin gave her even greater strength. Her cry rang around the room as she heaved with her entire body, and Amanda’s bikini tore asunder, the crotch ripping up through the cleft of her pudenda, making the blonde howl like a tortured banshee.
“That’s how it’s done, bitch Barbie!” Tiffany spat at her, rising up to her feet, her fingers hooked in the waistband of the torn bikini, pulling Amanda up until only her feet and head touched the floor. The blonde was thrashing her head grinding her teeth and moaning with the agony from her brutalized loins.
Tiffany again stomped her foot down on Amanda’s back, crushing her breasts into the floor. “You think you know about pain, huh? I’m gonna show you something!” She dragged the blonde’s ruined bikini half-way down her thighs, then stepped off her back, pulling the bottoms further down, letting Amanda’s hips fall back to the floor, then her knees and finally her feet. Tiffany stood gazing down at her, the torn scrap of fabric in her hand. “You’re not gonna need this again, bitch!” She threw it contemptuously aside.
Amanda rolled onto her side, one hand grabbing her wounded crotch. Her face was clenched tight with pain, her chest heaving with shuddering sobs as she forced air into her lungs. “Fuck…you…” she gasped, pain and defiance dueling in her eyes.
“Yeah, you tried that already, you whore…and you got stomped into the floor just now for your trouble.” Tiffany shoved the blonde hard with her foot, and Amanda fell over onto her back. “Now it’s your turn to give it up, bitch. Face it, you tried your best but I kicked your ass. Submit now, or it’s gonna be a long painful night for you!”
She punctuated the demand with a savage stomp on Amanda’s belly, right over her belly button. Amanda’s eyes bulged, and she gave a gurgling, breathless cry. Pain wracked her face as she struggled for the breath to gasp, “Not…on…your life…cow!”
Tiffany sighed. It had been a long shot and she knew it. Amanda might be down but she wasn’t out. She wasn’t some barmaid fighting to supplement her tip money, or a biker chick trying to work out her aggression by beating on somebody in a come-all challenge night. She was a professional fighter – if she wasn’t, she wouldn’t be here. She had done what Tiffany was hoping here tonight – established herself among the cream of the crop, the best of the best. Now Tiffany was about to prove that she deserved a place here too – that she was not just as good as the blonde, but better.
Her earlier anxiety was gone. That toss, turning the tables on Amanda so quickly and completely, had earned her the respect of the audience, and given her new faith in herself. Still, she was under no illusions about the task ahead of her. Even battered and in pain as she was, Amanda was no pushover. The image of the blonde’s impressive body as she flexed her muscles popped into Tiffany’s mind again. Amanda wasn’t just strong and vicious, she was resilient too. Tiffany would have to break her down, deny her any chance to recover, work her over in body and spirit until she had no strength or will left to fight.
And work her over she did. She hammered Amanda’s belly time and time again, from her ribcage to the upper edge of her mound, battering her hard abs as they slowly weakened under the relentless assault of Tiffany’s heels, knees, elbows and fists. She had fought hard bodies like Amanda before – not always winning, but learning from every fight. One of those lessons was that while hard muscles could absorb many blows, they could not hold out forever. She felt the blonde’s belly slowly softening, her groans of pain growing ever more urgent.
Nor was muscle damage the only tool to wear her opponent down. Pain played a big part in sapping a fighter’s strength, not to mention her will. Amanda knew that just as well as she did – the bitch had dispensed enough of it on her in the early part of the fight, mauling her boobs and her crotch. No doubt she had made other Society wannabes scream for mercy with those tactics. Hell, Tiffany herself had been close to surrender, but she was made of sterner stuff. Those women had tried and failed. She was here to win.
Tiffany proved she could dish it out the pain as well as take it. Her knees did not stop at Amanda’s ribs – she pummeled her enemy’s chest, bouncing the blonde’s breasts back and forth like speed bags. Her fingers squeezed and twisted – at one point she even dragged her opponent up off the floor by her breasts as Amanda clung cursing to her arms, mewling in agony, before hurling her onto her back once more, her head slamming into the rug with a thud that made the blonde’s eyes glaze over for a long moment.
She worked Amanda’s back too, with punishing blows to her kidneys. She thought she had won the fight at one point where she dragged the weakened blonde to her feet, holding her by the hair, her breasts pressed tight against Amanda’s left shoulder, before she jerked hard right and dropped, throwing Amanda down backwards over her upraised knee. Amanda had screamed like a demon, thrashing in abject torment on the rug, holding her back. “Oh…FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK!!!”
This went on for almost a half-hour. Tiffany knew that because several clock towers were visible from the enormous windows of the apartment, and she caught occasional glances through the crowd as she drew breath between clashes.
She gave Amanda several chances to submit. Though there was a part of her that wanted to make the bitch suffer as horribly as she could – the skank was going to force her to cum in front of the entire room! – she was acutely conscious of the fact that the audience, or at least some of them, played a huge role in her future here. The Society wanted fierce, determined, even dirty fighters, but they didn’t want sadists. She had seen fights in the past where a woman had her opponent in a brutal pain hold and kept her there for what seemed like an eternity while the opponent doggedly refused the submit. The fight had eventually ended under a rain of beer cans from the drunken audience. That had been an object lesson for Tiffany. Don’t be sadistic, and don’t be boring either. Every time she had offered Amanda a chance to surrender though, the blonde had snarled, gasped and, eventually, croaked, “Fuck you,” or some derivation of those words.
Amanda fought back of course. Tiffany took several hard hits to the belly, and the blonde made several low sweeping attacks with her legs, trying to bring Tiffany down to the carpet with her. She even succeeded once, but Tiffany’s leg lashed out and caught Amanda between her breasts, sending her sprawling before she could press the attack. Tiffany had to constantly guard her chest too – the wicked blonde missed not chance to punch, slap or slash at Tiffany’s still-swollen right breast.
Nevertheless, she knew she had gained the upper hand. Amanda’s retaliatory assaults became less furious, her parries less accurate. More and more of Tiffany’s blows hit home, and the blonde’s cries became louder as her strength wore down. Tiffany knew it was only a matter of time. The blonde would surrender. She had little to lose – she was already established here in the Society. Tiffany had much more at stake than she did. To punish herself even more severely was just stupid, and whatever Tiffany might think of this bitch, she definitely wasn’t stupid.
Tiffany was almost dizzy from the adrenalin coursing through her veins. She had come here and put everything on the line – her fight career, her reputation, her dignity. The Society – and of course this insanely vicious bitch – had taken her to the very edge of surrender, forced her to find the deepest well of her determination just to keep on fighting. This had been the hardest battle of her life. She had felt fear such as she had never known – fear of Amanda’s daunting prowess, fear of the blonde showing her up, fear of shaming herself in the aftermath of the fight. Worst, and most of all, she had feared looking herself in the mirror every morning, and knowing that she didn’t have what it took to win here.
But she had endured. She had proven herself worthy to stand and fight here in this room. She had proven it to the fierce creature against whose magnificent body she had strained in the first moments of the fight. She had proven it to the other fighters who stood in the crowd – those who had challenged her tonight, and those who had not. She would stand against many or all of them in the future. She had proven it to every man and woman in the room tonight, who had seen and heard everything that she went through – and, in turn, everything she had put her opponent through. Again, and most importantly, she had proven it to herself. She had endured, she had overcome – and now she would triumph.
There was just one obstacle to that – the battered, exhausted but still defiant blonde beneath her. Despite her best efforts – so far – to make Amanda surrender, she still had not uttered the words. That would change, and soon.
Squatting over her prone opponent, her bare crotch pressed firmly into the small of Amanda’s back, she shuffled her feet forward, hands gripping Amanda’s upper arms, hooking the blonde’s elbows more securely over her own knees, and trapping Amanda deeper in the pain hold. Releasing the blonde’s arms, she leaned forward and hissed in her ear, “Now it’s time to hear you scream!”
Amanda moaned, and her body tensed beneath Tiffany in anticipation of the torment to come. Tiffany paused, making the bitch wait, knowing what was going through her mind – would Tiffany pull her into a chin lock, torturing her neck, or yank her head back by her hair instead?
Tiffany had other ideas. She reached forward even further, over Amanda’s shoulders, and grasped the blonde’s breasts firmly, her nails digging into the soft folds of flesh beneath the firm orbs. “This is something I call the ‘titty clutch,’” she murmured, her thumbs gouging Amanda’s nipples. She moaned more loudly and shook her head weakly. “You’re gonna be the first one here to get this, bitch!”
She squeezed hard, and rocked backward on her heels, arching Amanda’s back, dragging the blonde’s breasts cruelly upward and outward. Amanda’s eyes bulged wide, she threw back her head and her scream of agony echoed off the walls.
Tiffany craned her neck forward, making sure to keep the pressure on Amanda’s breasts, and hissed in her captive opponent’s ear, “Come on, you stubborn bitch, everyone knows you gave it your best. Don’t be stupid…give it up!”
Tears of pain streaked Amanda’s cheeks. Her entire body was slippery with sweat, her hair hanging limply, brushing the damp rug beneath her. Her mouth worked silently, any words lost in her agony. Tiffany jerked on her breasts harder, pulling Amanda’s head up closer to her own. “What’s that, bitch? Say it!”
Focused on her moment of victory, she failed to notice the blonde raise her right arm slowly and painfully toward her shoulder. By the time she felt Amanda’s fingers grasp her hair, the blonde was already roaring through clenched teeth and yanking Tiffany’s head to the right, pulling her off balance. She toppled, dragging her opponent with her until Amanda was able to pull her left knee up and shove sideways, screaming with the pain that that effort cost her from her tortured muscles.
Tiffany sprawled onto her right side, Amanda’s sudden savage cry of “FUCK YOU, BITCH!!!” ringing in her ears, and then her own scream tore the air as the suddenly resurgent Amanda launched a desperate but deadly accurate punch that slammed into her right breast, still swollen and sore from Amanda’s early attack with her bikini top, crushing it into her ribs.
A paroxysm of pain gripped Tiffany, freezing her for a moment. When she regained her senses, Amanda was already scrambling up over her, astride her hips. Tiffany’s right arm was back behind her, and the blonde’s knee ground into her forearm, pinning it down. She flailed wildly with her other arm, aiming a backhanded slap across Amanda’s face to knock her off, but Amanda caught her wrist in both hands, twisting it viciously so Tiffany yelped in pain.
She managed to tear her arm free, aiming an elbow strike at Amanda’s long-suffering belly. The blonde managed to twist her torso with a grunt of pain, and Tiffany’s elbow glanced off her right hip. Amanda grabbed again for Tiffany’s arm. “C’mere, slut!”
Desperate to keep her arm free of her opponent’s grasp, terrified of having her arms locked up while she was pinned down like this, Tiffany struck out again, stabbing her thumbnail into Amanda’s belly button, spreading her fingers, getting a handful of the blonde’s belly and twisting as hard as she could.
Amanda screamed in pain, but finally got a firm grip on Tiffany’s wrist and jerked it free. “Not so fast, bitch! Now it’s MY turn!” Her right arm snaked around and under Tiffany’s, locking it up into an arm bar. Amanda leaned to her right, and Tiffany winced at the sudden strain on her shoulders. She struggled, gritting her teeth as her bare right breast – the one Amanda had tortured and punched again just now – slapped against the floor.
“Thought you had me finished?” taunted Amanda. She slapped Tiffany hard across the cheek with her free hand. “Thought I wouldn’t be able to take the pain?” She laughed bitterly. “Bitch, you have NO idea what pain is! But tonight you’re gonna find out.”
Amanda shifted her weight, lifting her left knee, presumably to slide further up Tiffany’s body, and Tiffany drew her own left leg up, hoping for a chance to bridge up sideways and maybe shake the blonde off her. Amanda dropped her knee again – right onto the inner side of Tiffany’s throbbing right breast, crushing it into the floor.
The pain was so intense it made the room spin around her for a moment, and she lost the power to even think as her eyes and mouth opened wide, gaping in shock as her beleaguered nerves fought to cope with the agony. The felt the sweat burst from every pore. When her scream finally did come, it was so shrill, piteous and drawn out that it made her dizzy. The sudden endorphin rush left her weak, panting for breath.
“Like that trick, slut?” laughed Amanda. “Told you I’d teach you a lesson or two. I call this one ‘milking the cow’ !” She ground her knee harder against the floor, and Tiffany shrieked again, trying desperately not to let her bladder go, so intense was the pain.
Dammit! She had had her! She had had the blonde beaten down, crying tears of pain, bruised and battered, on the very brink of surrender. What the hell had happened? How did the blonde endure all that punishment and still come back? The bitch wasn’t fucking human!!! How did she wind up pinning Tiffany to the floor again, and resuming her cruel assault on Tiffany’s chest.
She had gotten cocky – that’s what had happened. She thought she had Amanda beaten, and she had that assurance get the better of her. She should have known better. She had warned herself as she took the initiative, not to go for a quick win, to do it by the book, wear her down, don’t take stupid chances – and most of all, never, NEVER count the bitch out until she surrenders.
She had made a mistake – and here, at this level, one mistake was all it took. Now the blonde was going to torture her, show her up like a rank amateur, make her look stupid and all her work, everything she had strived and suffered through to get here, was going to be for nothing. The physical pain was nothing compared to that thought – of having all her dreams crushed like the bitch was crushing her boob right now. She sobbed in anguish.
Amanda heard her and laughed. “Cry baby!” she sneered. “You’re nothing, and now just proved it!” She reached down with her left hand, grasped Tiffany’s left nipple and jerked her breast upward viciously. Tiffany’s body shook like a leaf and she shrieked in utter misery. She threw her head back, writhing beneath the blonde, mouth open, her sopping hair tangled around her head, biting at the rug in a frenzy of pain.
“That’s it, scream for me, cow slut!” laughed Amanda loudly. She let go of Tiffany’s nipple and Tiffany moaned in near-relief at having only one of her breasts tormented. Amanda released the arm bar and grabbed Tiffany’s wrist in her left hand, freeing up her right. “Let’s have some fun with you before we send you back to the swamp!” She leaned back and delivered a stinging slap to Tiffany’s ass.
Amanda leaned close, and purred in Tiffany’s ear. “Don’t think I’m done with you yet, cow! I’m gonna show you up so bad, you’ll have to wear a bag over your head so people won’t laugh at you in the street!” She poked her tongue out and licked a tear from the corner of Tiffany’s left eye. “Mmmmm….I love that taste. You know what it tastes like?” She paused for a moment and then added, “It tastes like victory! Too bad you’ll never taste that!”
BITCH! Amanda was playing with her, humbling her right here in the fight. God only knew what she would do once Tiffany surrendered. Cold fear surged through her, followed by boiling anger. She growled through clenched teeth, summoning the dregs of her determination. “Don’t be so fucking sure, SKANK!”
Her fingers, alongside Amanda’s head as her tormenter sneered in her face, twisted into Amanda’s hair. With a supreme effort, she wrenched downward as hard as she could, simultaneously pushing up with her left leg. She screamed with new as she twisted onto her tummy, rolling the blonde off her but crushing her poor abused breast with her own weight as she did so.
Amanda’s face slammed into rug with a loud smack and she fell onto her left side. Weeping with relief, Tiffany rolled wearily back the other way, onto her back, then over again, pushing herself up on her elbows. She felt as though there was a pile of bricks on her back. She willed her heart to beat faster, her lungs to give her oxygen, praying for some hidden reserve of strength, terrified she would feel the blonde’s claws in her hair –and in her flesh – at any moment.
When she reached her knees and raised her head, she saw Amanda doing the same, just a few feet away, glaring at her poisonously. The blonde’s nose was red where it had smashed into the rug, her breasts heaved as she took deep breaths. “You keep getting lucky, cow, but you know it’s only prolonging the inevitable.”
She raised an arm to swipe her hair off her face, and Tiffany noticed that she moved much more slowly, as though she were lifting weights. Tiffany realized just how much that last comeback had cost Amanda. Tiffany’s ruthless assaults had taken their toll and taken Amanda close to exhaustion. Tiffany’s heart began to race. Her hope, crushed completely moments ago, began to flicker into life. She might be able to beat this bitch after all – if only she could find the strength. She did not kid herself though. It would take nothing less than her very best, and even that might not be enough. If she failed, there was no chance of an honorable victory – not against Amanda. The bitch would totally destroy her.
“Time to finish this, slut!” hissed Amanda. She took a stride on her knees toward Tiffany, arms up, grasping.
“Time to finish YOU, bitch!” retorted Tiffany. She heard the same weariness in her voice as she heard in her opponent’s. She leaned forward, her own arms outstretched, ready to lock up Amanda in a test of strength – or at least of whatever remained of their strength. Amanda looked as worn out as Tiffany felt.
They came together with a mutual groan and swayed on their knees, arms locked, legs straining, as much to hold themselves and each other up now, as they were to fight. Tiffany’s muscles had ceased merely to ache, now they burned, but she knew her enemy was just as spent as her – more so after what Tiffany had put her through. Their hair hung in matted rattails, slicked to their sweat-drenched bodies. The rug beneath them was stained and damp.
She was surprised that Amanda was still in the fight. Any other fighter she had ever known would have surrendered, maybe even passed out at the punishment the blonde had endured. The image flashed into Tiffany’s mind, of Amanda on her hands and knees, gasping for air from a knee to her belly, as Tiffany had grabbed her ankles from behind, jerking her legs from under her, slamming her down onto her chest. Lifting and spreading the blonde’s legs wide, Tiffany had stomped her own heel hard into Amanda’s unprotected pussy. That devastating blow alone should have ended the fight – most women she knew would have fainted, but Amanda clung to consciousness with grim determination – or maybe sheer bloody-mindedness – though her scream made the audience cringe in pain on her behalf.
It was Amanda’s willpower that sustained her now, though the punishment was starting to tell. Her face was beet red, a mask of pain as she struggled against Tiffany. Tears streaked her cheeks, her mascara making dark trails down past her quivering lips. She grimaced with every effort, as did Tiffany. It was only a matter of which woman could hold out longer.
“I am gonna fuck you up SO bad, you cow slut!” hissed Amanda, her voice labored, every syllable an effort.
Tiffany did not reply, saving her strength, digging deep, tapping into some hidden reserve she never knew she possessed, to scream a feral scream that came out as a quavering moan of rage, anguish and utter determination. Slowly, inch by painful inch, she drove her weary body forward, pressing the blonde backward as their arms trembled with the terrible force of their struggle. Finally, Amanda was forced back, thrusting a knee behind her to keep from falling. Tiffany stared balefully into her enemy’s eyes and smiled savagely, reveling in the sudden spark of fear that flared through the tears.
Drawing her lips back in a slow smile, Tiffany gasped, “What’s the matter, bitch? Can’t quite smell that win any longer?” She groaned as she pushed even harder, doing her best of ignore the awful weariness in her muscles. Amanda’s jaw clenched tight as she pushed back, but Tiffany drove her back another step. There were muttered voices in the crowd. People could see what she saw.
With a roar of effort, she pushed up on one knee, raising Amanda’s arms up higher and then, with a strength that shocked even her, rose to her feet. She gripped Amanda’s hands tight in her own, not trusting the bitch wouldn’t pull free and ram a fist into her belly. Amanda merely strained again her however, all of her attention laser-focused on holding Tiffany back.
Tiffany forced Amanda’s arms up even further, the blonde’s long low groan of exertion becoming more and more urgent as she slowly forced her opponent upright on her knees, to the point where all that was holding her up was her straining, twitching thigh muscles.
“You’re…DONE!” grunted Tiffany explosively, and with that she rammed her knee up under Amanda’s chin. There was not much force in the blow – she was more tired than she could ever remember being – but it did not need much and the weary blonde went down on her back, her legs folded back under her.
Tiffany didn’t let it rest there – didn’t let Amanda rest at all. Not finishing the job had almost cost her this fight once, and she wasn’t going to be stupid enough to make that mistake again. She lifted her leg, stepped forward and brought her heel down into the pit of Amanda’s stomach while the blonde was struggling to push herself up, her arms out at her sides.
Amanda’s head whipped up off the floor, her arms flew wide and her thighs jerked spastically. She would have screamed in pain if she had had the breath. As it was, she bared her teeth and threw her head back as her whole body shuddered.
Tiffany stumbled to her right, but caught herself before she lost her balance or fell. She stepped around Amanda, above her head, before dropping to her knees – if she were honest with herself, she wasn’t sure she could stay on her feet much longer – with her legs pinning the blonde’s upper arms.
Staring down into Amanda’s tear-filled eyes, she saw the fear in full flame. “Give it up, bitch!” she panted. “It’s over.”
Amanda shook her head. “No…fucking…way.” She strained to lift her arms, but without success. She was too far gone.
Tiffany sighed. “Stupid skank, you don’t know when to quit!” She leaned forward, pressing down even harder on Amanda’s arms, and backhanded the blonde across the face. Amanda’s head snapped around to her right, sweat-sodden hair flying across her face. “Have it your way then.” She shifted her weight forward, and relished her enemy’s expression as she lowered her crotch firmly onto Amanda’s face.
Amanda moaned into Tiffany’s pussy, her arms flopping weakly, pinned tight beneath Tiffany’s legs. Her body shone with sweat, glistening under the bright lights. Her chest rose and fell in tortured sobs, with a long pause between each as she gathered the strength just to keep breathing. Her breasts were flushed crimson, blotched with the cruel marks of Tiffany’s grasping fingers, criss-crossed with livid scratches.
The fearsome tone of Amanda’s stomach muscles was gone now, her abs reduced to jelly, wobbling and shuddering with the intense effort of every agonized inhalation. Tiffany raised her arm high, and slammed her fist downward in a hammer blow into the center of the growing red patch that surrounded Amanda’s navel. Amanda’s legs twitched, her hips jerking upward a little in a way that might otherwise have been lewd, but she no longer even had the strength to cry out.
Tiffany herself was numb with fatigue. She had never fought so hard in all her life, never taken so much punishment, or had to deliver so much pain. This bitch was insane – it was though she was daring Tiffany to torture her. Was this how it was, here in the Society? This was the wildest, dirtiest, most vicious fight of her entire life. She had had to find reserves of strength, of courage, of willpower, that she never knew she possessed. A tiny voice in the depths of her mind whispered to her – welcome to the big time.
She forced herself up on her knees and stared down between her sweat-slicked breasts at Amanda’s pain-ravaged features. Amanda stared up at her with unfocused eyes, hair plastered across her face, sodden with the sweat of Tiffany’s crotch, her tears drawing tracks in the ruined remains of her makeup. Her lips trembled. “You’re done, skank,” breathed Tiffany. “You’re just too stupid to know it. Give it up! Don’t make this even worse!” She paused before adding, warningly, “If you do, it’s on you!”
Amanda blinked once, then closed her eyes. Her jaw clenched tight. Finally her mouth opened and she croaked, “No…” The pause after that one word was so long that Tiffany wondered if she had finally fainted. Then she panted, “…fucking…way.”
Tiffany glanced up at the crowd, turning her head, searching for Michael. She found him, and their eyes met. “It’s on her!” she repeated, though that wasn’t her real meaning. What should she do?
Michael gazed back at her. His voice was steely. “If she won’t submit, then she must suffer.”
Tiffany dropped her butt hard onto Amanda’s face once more. Amanda’s scratched, rug-burned breasts wobbled as she struggled feebly to free herself. Tiffany reached down, grabbing the blonde’s flushed, erect nipples and pulled hard, jerking her breasts upward, pulling them apart, slamming them together. Amanda’s muffled cries grew louder and more strident. Tiffany jerked her hips back and forth, then side to side, grinding her loins against Amanda’s chin and nose. A welcome warmth even began to build in her belly. “Oooh baby!” she purred mockingly. “Seems like that wise-ass mouth of yours is good for something after all!” There were chuckles from the crowd.
She raised herself again, gazing down at the beaten blonde. Amanda’s face was flushed dark, and her cheeks puffed in and out weakly as she fought to suck air through her slack, open mouth. Tears of pain and degradation traced lines from the corners of her eyes to her ears, and a trail of drool – or was it drool, Tiffany wondered – ran from the corner of her mouth. Her eyes were glazed, staring sightlessly as she clung precariously to consciousness.
Tiffany knew that she could sit back down now, and just smother the bitch out. That would be the easy way, but it would also be easy for Amanda and there was no chance in hell that she was going let that Barbie skank off easy.
Why wouldn’t the bitch surrender? She was insane! It was as though she wanted Tiffany to keep beating on her, refusing to surrender just so Tiffany would punish her even more brutally. Why the hell would anybody deliberately suffer like that?
Then it dawned on her. That was exactly what Amanda was doing. She wanted Tiffany to keep beating her, to get frustrated and lose her temper. If she beat Amanda within an inch of her life, she would show herself to be nothing more than a sadist – not worthy of a place here. In defeat, Amanda would have her victory.
Tiffany shook her head. No she damn well wouldn’t! Clenching her teeth, summoning the strength, she rose onto her knees, then to her feet, moving like she was sleepwalking. Amanda lay unmoving, her upper arms marked with red welts where Tiffany’s shins had dug into them.
“Wake up, Barbie!” she snarled, digging her heel into Amanda’s stomach, holding it there, grinding it in. “Still with us?”
Amanda moaned, and turned her head toward Tiffany. “Takes more than you to put me out, cow slut!” she croaked. “Come on, let’s see what you got!”
Tiffany sneered. “I know your game, you sneaky bitch! I know what you’re trying to do! You can’t win this now, you know it, so you’re just trying to get me to lose my shit so I’ll do something so bad to you that I’ll get thrown out of here even though I do win!”
“You’re fucking crazy,” muttered Amanda, but Tiffany saw the new tears welling up and knew the truth. She had figured out the bitch’s game, and called her out. She watched as the last light of defiance drained from Amanda’s ravaged face, and smiled. This was the moment when she had truly won the battle. All the punishment she had taken, all the pain she had endured, was suddenly worth it just to see that look of utter defeat in Amanda’s eyes.
It was over – but it wasn’t. Not yet. There were formalities to be observed, but she knew there would be no satisfaction in just hearing the bitch say it. Not after this fight, not after what this fucking skank had made her suffer through tonight. No, she was going to scream her surrender at the top of her lungs…or at least with whatever breath she could find in her tortured lungs.
Tiffany stepped astride Amanda’s chest. “Now you’re mine, bitch!” she declared, and she saw Amanda knew it too. The blonde’s head tilted in an infinitesimal nod. “This is just making sure you don’t forget that!”
She dropped her body down onto Amanda’s like a pile driver. Amanda gave a whimper of awful anticipation, then made a sound like a deflating balloon as Tiffany’s pelvis slammed into her chest. Tiffany ground her butt in circles, punishing the blonde’s battered breasts yet again with her hard cheeks. “Hey, who knew!” she called out to the room. “They do make a soft landing after all!” That gained her several cheers.
Amanda groaned in pain each time Tiffany squirmed on top of her. Her flushed cheeks puffed in and out feebly as she fought for breath, compressed by Tiffany’s weight on her chest. She tried to arch up off the rug, to allow herself to breathe, but she was long past the point where she had the strength to lift herself, let alone Tiffany too. All she did was push her head back, her trembling chin pointed at Tiffany’s crotch.
“No you don’t, bitch!” Tiffany hissed. She grabbed Amanda by the hair with both hands and jerked her head savagely up off the floor. “Look at me! Look in my eyes and see what I’m doing to you!” She thrust her hips forward and rammed the blonde’s face into her crotch. Amanda groaned into her pussy in utter anguish.
Tiffany jerked her away again. “I beat you down and I’m riding your face like the dirty slut you are!” She slammed Amanda’s skull into the rug – once, then twice, before jerking her back into her crotch and humping the devastated blonde’s nose furiously. She ground, humped, shook and slammed her victim’s head ruthlessly and at random, giving Amanda no chance to gather her wits. She had taken this crazy woman to the well of humility too many times tonight – this time she was going to hurl the bitch right down the well, snuff out her will to resist and then pour cold water on it.
She finally yanked Amanda’s head back again and stared down into her eyes. “Say it!” barked Tiffany. “Let them all hear it! Tell them I beat you!” She slapped Amanda hard across the face. “Tell them!”
Amanda’s shoulders shook and she shut her eyes tight. Tiffany could see the titanic struggle within her as she tried to find some shred of will left within her. Finally, she could no longer contain the flood of tears as she whimpered, “Yes…yes! You beat me! You beat me!”
“Damn right I did! And I’ll do the same thing next time and every time you step up to challenge me!” She drove Amanda’s head into the rug again, pinning her down with both hands gripping her hair over her ears. “Why? Because I BELONG here, you BITCH!” Flecks of spittle flew in Amanda’s terrified face as Tiffany roared out her claim. This was where she was meant to be! She had suffered, she had endured, she had proven herself here tonight, and everybody knew it! Most of all, this bitch!
“Yes!” cried Amanda, her voice cracking. “YES! You…you belong here!!!” She tried in vain to shake her head, held captive in Tiffany’s hands. “Please…no more! I give! You win! You…win…” Her fractured voice trailed off into sobs of despair, and her head lolled listlessly in Tiffany’s hands.
Poised over her defeated opponent, Tiffany looked up at the crowd. They had heard. There were expressions of approval, admiration, and more than a few of outright lust. Now it was really over – she had won. She threw back her head and screamed, “YES!!!”
She shuffled her legs back until she knelt astride the beaten blonde’s waist, letting Amanda breathe at last as she stared down into her pain-wracked face. “Now comes the fun part,” she purred. “For me, anyway.” She moved her hips against Amanda’s, grinding her swollen nether lips against the blonde’s firm mound, and moaned. There were ripples of anticipation from the crowd. More than a few people were obviously eager to see Amanda brought low.
She slapped Amanda’s left breast hard, and then back-handed her across the right breast. The blonde’s badly mauled breasts barely bounced. Tiffany laughed mockingly. “Thought they said silicone was tough!” She gripped Amanda’s orbs tight, squeezing, her thumbnails gouging her victim’s rock-hard nipples.
“UNNGHHHH!!!” Amanda groaned and her back arched, though she lacked the strength to even move Tiffany, let alone throw her off. Her hands moved up instinctively to grab Tiffany’s wrists.
The smile left Tiffany’s face. “No you don’t, bitch!” she warned. “It’s WAY too late to fight back now!” She stared down into Amanda’s eyes, and slowly said “Loser!” letting the word roll languidly off her tongue. She felt a slight shudder in the trembling body beneath her. Amanda’s jaw clenched, then she swallowed hard, and closed her eyes. Her hands fell away from Tiffany’s wrists, to her sides, palms upward.
“Hands up!” she ordered, and Amanda complied after only a moment’s hesitation, raising both arms above her head, crossing her wrists. The smooth skin on the insides of her arms was already discolored with bruises from where Tiffany had grappled with her.
Tiffany leaned forward, pressing her chest against Amanda’s. She curled her back a little as she slid herself upward, feeling her pussy lips caressing the beaten blonde’s belly, crushing the blonde’s hard breasts against her own, their turgid nipples rubbing over one another. Her mind flashed back to the moments before the fight, when they had stood defiantly chest to chest. Back then, the touch of her opponent’s flesh had been a challenge, a promise of pain to come. Now, the feel of her victim’s sweat-slicked skin was something entirely different – something so much better.
She pressed her crotch down harder against Amanda’s hips, and felt the blonde’s body answer her, pushing up slightly. She laughed. “Keep still, you slut!” Her lips were just inches above Amanda’s. “There’s nothing for you! From now on, the pleasure is gonna be all mine!” She extended her tongue slowly and licked Amanda’s face from her chin to her right earlobe. There were hoots of appreciation and anticipation from the crowd. “And I do mean ALL mine!” she purred. She bit down on Amanda’s earlobe and the blonde yelped.
Tiffany braced her hands against the blonde’s breasts and pushed herself up, making sure she ground the heels of her hands into Amanda’s chest. She was rewarded with a grunt of pain, and grinned as she rose slowly to her feet. Every muscle ached, and she knew she was lucky to have won this fight. She had been close to exhaustion – damn, she still was.
She placed a foot on Amanda’s sweat-slicked belly, pressing down just hard enough that the bitch felt it. Lifting a heavy arm, she swept her tangled, sweat-soaked hair back from her face, and stared around her at the crowd with a weary smile. “Well, I guess that settles who’s the better woman!” she called out to the room at large. There were murmurs of approval, and they grew in volume and fervor when she placed both arms behind her head, arched her back and thrust out her chest. As she swept her eyes around the room, she reveled in the admiring and even hungry glances from the men, and indeed from most of the women too.
A sudden rush of elation made her dizzy as it dawned on her that she had won. She had come here, to the toughest catfight club in the country, fought the hardest fight of her life – and won. She fought hard to keep from trembling with emotion.
She glanced down at her defeated opponent. Amanda was staring up at her steadily. The look in her eyes told Tiffany a lot. She had lost the fight, but she wasn’t truly beaten, not deep down. A smile formed on Tiffany’s lips as the thought flashed into her mind – not yet, but that would soon change. She was going to make sure the bitch never forget this night. She had pulled some dirty moves during the fight – not that Tiffany hadn’t – and it was time to pay the piper. She wouldn’t be vindictive about it – well, maybe just a little.
“On your belly, bitch!” she commanded, taking her foot off Amanda’s tummy and poking the blonde in the right breast with her toes. Amanda let out a slight whimper of distress as she raised her left arm up over her head and pushed with her right leg, rolling herself over onto her stomach. Her firm, rounded buttocks were red and scored with the deep scratches of Tiffany’s nails.
Amanda’s torso rose and fell as she breathed laboriously, her own weight pressing her breasts into the floor. Tiffany knew what felt like. She herself hadn’t slept on her stomach since her early teens. Let the skank work hard to breathe. She had lost, and that was just the start of the price she would pay.
“Wrists crossed behind you!” she ordered. She noticed Amanda hesitate, and nudged her in the side with her foot. The blonde grunted as she unfolded her arms, pushing them down by her sides, then crossing them in the small of her back. “…and spread your legs! Let everyone see what I did to that skanky pussy of yours!”
Amanda moved her ankles apart to shoulder width. Whispers darted among the crowd. Tiffany stepped between the blonde’s legs. “How’s your clit, princess? Throbbing from the mauling I gave it?” She pushed her foot against Amanda’s swollen nether lips. Amanda moaned. “I sure hope so!”
She stepped back and bent at the knees, trying not to groan as her exhausted muscles protested. Grabbing Amanda’s ankles, she jerked her legs into the air. Amanda squealed in surprise. Her hands instinctively came away from her back. Tiffany heaved backward, dragging the captive blonde across the floor on her chest. Amanda moaned and grunted, slapping at the floor as she tried to use her arms to push herself up and spare her breasts, but Tiffany hauled fast, not giving her a chance to get her arms under her. A few catcalls erupted from the crowd as the blonde’s breasts scraped painfully across the rug.
When she reached the middle of the square, she dropped Amanda’s ankles and stepped to the left. Amanda lay motionless and moaning on her belly, her arms stretched above her head. Tiffany crouched, thrust a hand into Amanda’s matted hair and hauled her bodily up to her knees. The crowd rumbled with admiration that she still had enough strength left to manage that, and she clenched her teeth hard so as not to cry out with the pain that it cost her. She wasn’t sure what the rules were for bonuses, but she was going to give them the best show she could – both from herself and the beaten blonde.
Holding Amanda by the hair as the blonde swayed unsteadily on her knees, she stared down with a wicked smile. Amanda’s breasts, already blotched and bruised from the grip of Tiffany’s fingers during the fight, criss-crossed with the scratches of her nails, were now a dark crimson all over, rubbed raw by their rough passage across the rug. “Wow, and they say silicone is non-stick!” exclaimed Tiffany with mock surprise, to a smattering of laughs from the watchers.
She slapped the blonde’s breasts hard. They didn’t swing the way her own would, but they nevertheless bounced against one another. Amanda’s sweat-slicked body shuddered with each resounding slap. After the second, she whispered in a trembling voice, “Oh…fuck…” Her voice was heavy with the promise of a sob.
Someone in the crowd moved a little and Tiffany caught a glimpse of herself in the full length mirror that formed the entire back wall of the room. She looked in no better shape than Amanda – her hair was a matted mess hanging in tangled rat-tails over her shoulders. Her lipstick was smeared across her cheek, while her mascara carved dark trails down her cheeks. Her entire body was drenched in sweat, her breasts marked with red blotches from Amanda’s cruel mauling. Her crotch felt like it was on fire from the determined attentions of the blonde’s finger nails. Every muscle ached, and she knew she would barely be able to move in the morning. The operative word though, was ‘barely’ – the devastated blonde wouldn’t be able to manage even that.
This bitch had taken her to the edge, had her close to quitting on multiple occasions. But here she was, on her feet, battered but triumphant, with the beaten foe on her knees and at her mercy. She twisted her wrist, straining Amanda’s neck as she forced the blonde’s face up toward hers. “Thought you had me, didn’t you, bitch? Thought you were the big dog in the room, huh?” She laughed, a little ruefully. “Well I gotta admit, you almost did. But now I’m up here and you’re down there, so you, me, and everybody here knows that you’re not the big dog…you’re just a little puppy dog.” She chuckled derisively. “My puppy bitch!”
She shoved her victim harshly in the middle of her back, pitching her forward. Amanda tried but failed to get her arms in front of her in time, and her already injured breasts slammed hard into the floor. She groaned as she lay there on her belly once more, her legs moving weakly. “No rest for the wicked, puppy bitch!” said Tiffany brusquely. “Up on all fours, it’s time for your humility lesson!”
Amanda let out a quiet sob, there were murmurs from the crowd, and Tiffany’s heart soared. OhMyGod! She had made the bitch cry again, but not from pain – from shame. Yes! That was probably worth a bonus, but she really didn’t care about that – just the knowledge that she had reduced this fierce warrior to tears was more than enough. Well, maybe not quite enough – she had plans for this bitch – but it was a DAMN good feeling.
The blonde rose slowly to her knees, shivering on all fours. Tiffany stepped astride her waist. “Time to take a little tour, puppy bitch!” She dropped her butt not too gently onto Amanda, trying not to grimace as her tender nether lips kissed the blonde’s back.
She took a firm grip on Amanda’s hair. “Now, you’re gonna carry me round the room, puppy bitch. When I want you to turn left, I’ll do this.” She reached back with her left hand and slapped Amanda’s left butt cheek hard. The impact stung her own hand and she knew she had left a livid handprint on the blonde’s bronzed skin. Amanda moaned, as much from embarrassment as from pain.
“And when I want you to turn right…” Tiffany thrust her left hand back into Amanda’s hair, released her right hand and leaned back. The sound of her slap echoed around the room. “…I’ll do this!” Amanda whimpered, and her shoulders shook.
“Oh…and when I want you to stop, I’m gonna do this.” She leaned back a little further, tugging on Amanda’s hair, and delivered a stinging slap between the blonde’s legs, on the soft flesh of her vulva. Amanda screamed in pain and her legs buckled, so that Tiffany had to brace her feet on the floor to keep from falling off, jerking Amanda up by the hair. “Steady there, bitch…no wimping out now!” She waited until the weeping Amanda had steadied herself, then lifted a foot and dug her heel into the outside of the blonde’s right breast. “Giddee-up!”
Amanda obediently began shuffling on her knees toward the boundary of the square with Tiffany riding on her back, to cheers and catcalls from the crowd. Tiffany slapped Amanda’s butt as they reached the edge of the rug, and the blonde turned with a moan. “Good puppy…see, you’re not as dumb as you look!”
When they reached the next corner, Tiffany noticed Amanda’s crumpled, discarded bikini top laying on the rug. “Oh, look at that! We’d better clean up your mess. Fetch, puppy!” She steered Amanda toward it, and gave her a sharp slap to the crotch again to stop her when they arrived. Amanda’s body jerked, but she made no sound. “Fetch…in your teeth…and give!”
Amanda bent her head to the floor, and after several attempts, managed to snag the flimsy top in her teeth. She lifted her head slowly, turning toward Tiffany, who took the top from her mouth.
“Good puppy!” She gazed down into Amanda’s eyes, which glistened with tears, then held the top up for all to see. “Wow, it’s all messed up…just like you!” She untangled the top strap, then reached forward and draped the top around Amanda’s neck, tugging her hair out over it. “I know they usually give medals to winners, but tonight I’m giving this to you…loser!”
By the time they completed a circuit of the rug, Amanda was sobbing openly, the last of her defiance stripped away by Tiffany’s taunts and the mocking cheers of the audience. Tiffany halted her progress with another slap on her suffering pussy, and she knelt quivering, her head hanging low, her tearful face hidden from the crowd by her dangling hair.
Tiffany rose to her feet and swung her leg over Amanda’s back so that she stood beside her kneeling foe. “Well, I bet you feel stupid for challenging me now, huh?” She walked in a slow circle, behind Amanda, along her right side, to finally stop in front of her bowed head. “Not so big with the trash talk now, are you? Cat got your tongue, I guess!” She stepped forward and bumped Amanda’s head with her knee. “Let’s see! Show us your tongue!”
Amanda turned a tear-stained face up toward Tiffany. She opened her mouth, and her pointed pink tongue peeped out past her trembling lips.
“Ah, there it is!” exclaimed Tiffany. “Well, seeing as it’s still there, I oughta put it to some use!” She pushed her foot forward. “Lick my foot, puppy bitch!”
Amanda obediently lowered her head, her hair sweeping Tiffany’s foot, before her lips touched Tiffany’s big toe. “Don’t just kiss it, lick it and do it right!” warned Tiffany. She lifted her other foot and pressed down hard on Amanda’s back between her shoulders, grinding the blonde’s face into her foot. Amanda groaned, but her tongue began to lick dutifully.
“Oh, I love it when the puppy bitches lick my feet!” she laughed mockingly as Amanda’s tongue tickled the spaces between her toes. “Unless they’re licking something else, of course!” She winked at one of the men watching, and his burst of laughter was taken up by several others.
“Mmm, speaking of which…since you’re so good with that tongue…” She withdrew her foot from Amanda’s mouth, circling the kneeling blonde slowly. Amanda knelt rock still, her torso trembling from the pain in her abs as she struggled to hold herself off the floor without her arms. Tiffany bent and jerked her viciously up onto her knees. The agony of the blonde’s wounded abs was echoed in her shrill scream.
Keeping her hand in Amanda’s hair, she circled back in front of the whimpering blonde. She thrust the other hand into Amanda’s matted tresses, and tilted her head up, standing close so that Amanda’s chin almost scraped the neatly trimmed hair on her mound, staring down into Amanda’s tear-filled eyes. “Remember how you promised you were gonna make me your slut?” She laughed. “Well, now I’m about to make you mine!” With that, she tilted her hips and pulled Amanda’s face forcefully into her crotch.
“Lick me, loser!” She ground her hips against Amanda’s head. “Open your mouth wide, and lick me!” Amanda let out a muffled, mortified moan at this new humiliation, but her mouth opened and engulfed Tiffany’s fleshy lips, her tongue burrowing between them until Tiffany announced to the room with a long, low groan of pleasure, that the blonde had found her clit.
It hurt after the punishment her pussy had taken at Amanda’s hands – and claws – during their battle but oh, it hurt so good! A pleasurable warmth began to spread through her belly as Amanda lapped at her like a cat drinking milk. “That’s it, puppy…lick me like a good slut!” A few people hooted. “You’re MY slut tonight.”
What made it even better – so very much better – was the knowledge that this pleasure was coming from the tongue that had promised to humiliate her, to publicly disgrace her and drive her from the Society. Now, the same woman who had given her the fight of her life and taken her to very brink of surrender, was kneeling before her and serving her like a common whore. That thought fanned her arousal into an inferno.
She cried out exultantly, louder, more urgently as the motion of her hips quickened. “Oh yes, good slut…good puppy…puppy slut…puppy slut…PUPPY SLUT! PUPPY SLUT!!! PUPPYSLUT!!! PUPPYSLUTPUPPYSLUTPUPPYSLUUUUUUTTT!!!” She threw back her head, sending a spray of sweat arcing through the air, and screamed her lust at the ceiling as the first spasm of a mind-shattering orgasm coursed through her.
It was not just the physical release, but the overwhelming joy and relief, the sense of power that she had emerged victorious, which gave her one of the most intense climaxes of her life. Her head swam from the force of it. She felt her inner muscles clench tight in a way they seldom did, that redoubled sensation making her spasm yet again. Her juices gushed from her, squirting, flooding over Amanda’s face and into the blonde’s open mouth as she bucked, ground and thrashed in a frenzy of fulfillment.
Panting, her body still trembling with aftershocks from her orgasm, she finally dragged Amanda’s head out of her crotch. Her clit throbbed, her inner muscles clenched and twitched. She moaned in languid enjoyment.
Sweat beaded on the ends of her hair and the tips of her fevered nipples, dripping steadily down to mingle with Amanda’s tears and drool, and with the liquid lust of Tiffany’s mind-blowing orgasm that coated the beaten blonde’s swollen and utterly defeated face, running down her chin, neck and heaving chest.
“Not bad, puppy bitch! At least your tongue is good for something!” she smiled, her words coming in ragged gasps as she slowly regained her breath. She smiled down into the blonde’s flushed face. Oh, this was the best – not the orgasm thought that was a nice plus – but the utter lack of defiance in Amanda’s eyes. Now the bitch hadn’t just been defeated, but much more than that. Tiffany had humiliated her, used her like a cheap sex toy in front of the entire Society. She was just an object – and she knew it.
Amanda’s lips trembled, and new tears rained down her cheeks. She pressed her lips tight together. Oh yeah, she knew exactly what was happening all right. A little voice in Tiffany’s told her something wasn’t quite right though, something in the set of Amanda’s jaw. There was some small glimmer of determination there. For a moment she wondered why, but then it dawned on her and she laughed out loud.
“Oh, you sneaky slut, you’re holding out on us!” She reached out and stroked her fingers down the sticky skin of Amanda’s throat, the way one would do when encouraging a child or a pet to swallow their medicine. “You got a mouthful of my juice, don’tcha?”
Amanda’s shoulders jerked convulsively. Her sob of shame was a sharp grunt through her nostrils, her mouth tightly closed. “Oh yes you do!” teased Tiffany. She crouched beside Amanda and stroked the blonde’s throat more firmly. “Go on! Take your medicine like a good puppy!”
A long, loud moan of anguish came from the blonde’s lips. Her eyes opened wide, pleading, and she shook her head desperately. “Do it!” urged Tiffany. She stroked harder still, and reached up with other hand to pinch the blonde’s nostrils shut. There were cheers from the crowd.
Amanda’s throat was working, quivering as she tried ever more frantically not to swallow, but it was in vain as finally she moaned in despair and swallowed with a loud gulp. “Yes!” Tiffany fist-pumped the air as she leapt to her feet, trying to ignore the complaints from her fatigued leg muscles. “See folks? Barbie swallows!” There were more cheers and applause. Clearly the audience was enjoying seeing Amanda get her comeuppance.
The blonde took a long, shuddering breath. “Oh…you…BITCH!” she gasped, her voice hoarse and ropey from the thick juices in her throat. Her body shuddered with wracking sobs of shame, and she hung her head.
Tiffany grabbed her hair and jerked her head back roughly. “Oh you got that right! I’m the badass bitch who came and kicked your puppy bitch ass in your own backyard!” She shook the blonde’s hair savagely, dragging another anguished moan from her victim’s moist lips. “Then I used you like the dirty slut you are!” She gave another tug on Amanda’s hair. “Tell all these nice people! Tell them how I used you!”
Amanda whimpered, before she croaked, “You used me like a – ” her voice broke and she sobbed for a moment before she finished, her voice wavering, “ – like a slut!”
Tiffany slapped her face. “Say it right! Like the dirty slut you are!”
With a louder sob, eyes clenched tight shut, tears coursing down her cheeks, Amanda cried out, “Like the slut I am! You used me like the dirty slut I am!”
“Damn right I did!” laughed Tiffany, and the crowd laughed along with her. “And didn’t you all just love it?” she called out to the crowd. There were loud cheers, and Amanda’s shoulders drooped even further in dejection.
Tiffany stared down at the devastated blonde. “After cumming that hard, I need a drink, so I guess I’m done with you.” She lifted Amanda’s tattered, sodden bikini top where it hung around her neck, bunched the cups in her hand and tugged hard. Amanda jerked forward, her forehead bumping into Tiffany’s belly. “Guess I ought to clean up a little first.” Tiffany bent a little at the knees and wiped the wadded triangles through her wet crotch. “Not sure it’ll do much good…there’s more of my juices on you than on me!”
“Anyway, get out of here before I change my mind and think of some more ways to show you up!” She jerked her thumb in the direction of the corner where Amanda had entered the living room, while yanking hard on Amanda’s bikini top with the other hand. “Crawl, puppy bitch!”
The blonde toppled sideways, catching herself on her elbow with a soft groan. She twisted onto all fours and began to make her way, weeping, toward the edge of the square. Her matted hair, sodden with sweat, swept the rug, swaying limply back and forth with each painful step.
Someone near the back of the room started a slow handclap, and it was taken up by more and more of the audience by the time she reached them. They made a narrow path for her, and Tiffany stood watching as the defeated fighter crawled through the crowd on her hands and knees, her head hanging between her shoulders, her marked butt cheeks bobbing as she moved.
Only when she finally exited through the archway to the bedrooms, did the clapping explode into thunderous applause. Tiffany’s heart swelled, and she almost cried with joy. She stood proudly – naked, sweat-soaked and utterly exhausted – but victorious. This was the big time, and she had made it.
There had been two pills on the nightstand, along with a glass of water and note that read ‘To help with the pain.”. She had tossed them back with only a moment’s hesitation, before she slowly worked her way into her dress, aching in every muscle. Her thong was a wreck – she made a mental note to bring a spare next time – so she was bare under the dress, which really wasn’t a problem because she doubted she could have worn it over her bruised and swollen loins. Her tortured right breast, still swollen and throbbing dully despite the painkillers, could barely stand the touch of her dress.
Michael had greeted her warmly when she emerged, and offered her a glass of champagne which she had gladly accepted. He led her gently to the couch and made sure she was seated comfortably. She was concerned that she should be polite and mingle, but he had assured her that everyone would understand – no-one had seen a fight like hers in a very long time.
Several people, men and women, had come by to congratulate her. One or two had even been women who had challenged for the right to fight her. She had not seen Amanda since the blonde had crawled, defeated, from the room. She doubted that Amanda had any desire – or was in any condition – to socialize.
A lone man approached her, dressed in a blue open-necked shirt, blue jeans and tweed jacket. He was balding, bespectacled and pushing 50, she guessed. He stopped beside the couch. “Miss Marlowe.”
She smiled wearily up at him, trying to be gracious but wishing she could curl up and go to sleep. “Yes.”
“I’m Andrew Scribbs, the…well, I suppose you could call me the Society’s business manager.” She raised an eyebrow. Even that hurt. “May I sit?”
“Thank you.” He seated himself on the armchair across the corner from her. “Congratulations on your win, my dear.” His accent was a little strange – definitely not a New Yorker. “I must give you this.” He handed her an envelope and a small black lacquered wooden box.
Tiffany took both objects, but opened the envelope first. She didn’t know why – maybe it was like being given a birthday gift, when it was polite to open and read the card before you opened the gift itself.
The envelope contained a check for forty-five thousand dollars. Tiffany’s jaw dropped, her fatigue forgotten for a moment. “Are you serious?” she exclaimed, looking at him with wide eyes.
“Perfectly, my dear. Twenty-five thousand dollars for the win, plus an additional twenty in bonus money.”
Tiffany had never held so much money in her hand at one time – ever. She had heard that the Society paid big money, but this – this was beyond anything she had imagined. Now she could – her mind froze. She could not imagine what she could do with this kind of money. It would require more careful thought than she could manage right now.
She turned her attention to the box, which was about four inches square. Taking it in one hand, she opened the lid. It contained a neatly folded triangle of gold lamé fabric, plus another similar wisp of material in a two-tone green print. Tiffany frowned for a moment, before the scent reached her nostrils. It was the smell of raw sweat, with an undertone of body oil and expensive perfume. Tiffany understood. It was Amanda’s bikini.
“A trophy of your victory,” smiled Scribbs.
Tiffany returned his smile, as she slipped the envelope carefully into her purse, and placed the box next to it on the end table beside her. Her mind was reeling, too tired to take it all in.
“Welcome to the Society, Miss Marlowe,” said Scribbs. He paused, and when he spoke again it was as though he had read her thoughts. “You realize that your life has changed quite dramatically tonight.”
Tiffany stared out the window at the myriad lights of Manhattan, and nodded. This was the big time. Now she was part of it – and it, she realized, was part of her.
NOT THE END…ONLY THE BEGINNING…
Aftermath – Amanda Wins
As Tiffany’s arm arced downward, she whipped her body forward along with it, putting every last ounce of strength into the savage blow that would pulp her enemy’s abs and destroy the last vestiges of her will. Intent on her goal, utterly focused, she failed to notice the muscles of Amanda’s left leg tensed, like a steel trap waiting to spring.
The blonde’s knee rammed upward as Amanda let out a desperate do-or-die scream. Tiffany’s head hurtled downward adding all the force she could to her punch. Amanda’s knee slammed into her forehead, right between her eyes.
The sun exploded in her mind. Tears burst from her eyes as her head snapped backward. Her body continued its downward arc, out of control as her mind shut down momentarily, and she smacked her head into the rug with all the momentum of her own strike behind it.
For a moment she had no idea what had happened to her. She could not think of anything but the terrible searing pain that filled her head and neck. New sweat exploded from every pore. She tried to breathe – couldn’t – panicked for a moment, then managed to draw a shallow, shuddering breath into her lungs.
She had to get up! She couldn’t lose – not now! Not when she was so close! But her arms refused to move, her legs refused to obey her commands. She had been pushing on by sheer willpower for a long time now – as had Amanda. But now she was done. The blonde had prevailed.
As the adrenalin ebbed, as her body began to realize that it was over – that she had lost – a hundred different pains made themselves felt. Her breasts ached from the bruises where Amanda had pummeled and twisted them, and stung from the scratches of the blonde’s nails. The battered muscles of her belly screamed in torment and every labored breath was a shuddering, painful effort.
Amanda stood over her, breathing hard, and Tiffany tensed, waiting to see what the blonde would do. After this fight, after all she had put Amanda through, she knew that the bitch would show no mercy. Her pain was far from over.
Fingers thrust into her tangled, sweat-soaked hair, clawing her scalp, and she groaned as Amanda dragged her up onto her knees. She would have screamed at the pain in her scalp, her back, the belly and everywhere else she could think of, but she lacked the strength, or the spirit. Oh God! She had lost!
This was the most important fight of her life, and she had lost. She had blown it. Yes, she had given it everything she had, but her best had not been enough, not here, not against this woman, this crazy bitch who had taken every punishment that Tiffany could throw at her. A part of Tiffany told her that she had done her best, held nothing back, and she should be proud of that, but it was small consolation. She was not good enough to beat Amanda, and maybe she never would be. Maybe it had been a mistake to even think that she was good enough for this level of fighting. She stifled a sob of despair.
Amanda heard it, or maybe noticed the slight tremble in her shoulders. “Wassamatter, honey?” she crooned mockingly. “Little girl gonna cry now?” She suddenly slapped Tiffany across the cheek, so hard that Tiffany would have fallen had it not been for Amanda’s tight grip on her hair.
The blonde shook her head viciously, and Tiffany’s breasts swung back and forth, slapping against her arms as they hung limply by her sides. “Little bitch is gonna cry now, aren’t you?” Tiffany tried desperately to choke back the tears that welled up in her eyes – tears for the pain that Amanda had inflicted upon her, for the frustration that nothing in her arsenal had been able to tame the blonde, for the shame that her very best had not been good enough, and now for the humiliation that the bitch was about to make her suffer. The worst of it was that she knew she deserved nothing better. Her shoulders began to shake, a louder sob escaped her lips, and a tear made a slow trail down her cheek.
Amanda laughed contemptuously. “Yep, crying like a baby, just like I knew you would! Just they all do when they realize they’re so far out of their league…too bad you were too fucking stupid to realize that before you came here tonight!”
The blonde slapped her across the face again. Her head snapped to the side, sweat-soaked hair whipping across her face. “Fetch me your bikini bottoms from over there, loser!” Tiffany turned to look at where Amanda was pointing. “On your knees! You don’t deserve to stand on your feet here.” Tiffany dropped to all fours and crawled slowly across the square. Her limbs were as heavy as lead but she dared not go too slowly. God knows what the bitch might do to her.
She reached out to grasp her twisted thong, but Amanda stopped her with a harsh word. “In your teeth! Cows don’t have arms!” With another dismayed sob, Tiffany withdrew her arm, bent her head and pressed her lips to the soiled fabric, pinching one strap between her teeth. The thong tasted of her sweat, the sweat she had expended massively as she tried every trick she knew, all to no avail. Turning on her knees, she made her way back to where Amanda waited. She rose up on her knees and extended her head, the thong dangling from her mouth, to drop it into Amanda’s outstretched hand.
Amanda sneered as she held the thong up and examined it mockingly, then reached out and placed it on Tiffany’s head, jerking it down over her face until it hung around her neck like a medal of shame. ‘Not my style at all, but at least it makes a good leash!”
She hooked a finger through the thong and yanked hard on it. “On your hands and knees, cow!” Tiffany fell forward onto her hands, feeling acutely vulnerable in a way she had seldom felt before, her naked loins displayed helplessly to the gaze of the crowd.
Amanda slapped her left buttock soundly. Startled, Tiffany let out a yelp of pain and jumped. The blonde laughed. “Don’t tell me you never felt that before, skank!” She stood behind Tiffany, out of her sight. Tiffany could feel her presence, and she tensed, her ass quivering as she waited for the next blow. Amanda prolonged her anguished anticipation, to the point where she almost relaxed, before the slap landed on the fleshy part of her right butt cheek. The crack echoed round the room, and Tiffany groaned. “Ow, that’s gonna leave a mark!” Amanda taunted her. “Oh, look, it already did!”
The blonde paused again, making her wait, and Tiffany trembled, wondering which cheek would take the next slap. She bit her lip, vowing not to give Amanda the satisfaction of hearing her cry out again.
The slap landed squarely on her swollen pussy lips. All her defiant intentions disappeared in an instant and she reared up on her knees, threw her head back and screamed out loud. “AAGGHHHHHH!!!” She collapsed forward again, clutching both hands to her crotch. “You…BITCH!!!”
Amanda leaned down, shoved a hand into her hair and dragged her up again. Tiffany’s tormented abs shrieked, and so did she. “Damn right I’m a bitch!” hissed Amanda. “I’m the badass bitch who just kicked your sad ass here tonight!” She twisted Tiffany’s head up further. “Look at me, skank!” Tiffany blinked at her through her tears. “Tell the room…tell them who beat you!”
Tiffany shivered. “You…you did.” She heard the tremble in her voice.
“Tell them who BEAT you!” Amanda gave her a vicious backhand across her right breast, dragging a painful grunt from her lips. She grunted even louder as the blonde slapped her on the other breast. “Say my name, bitch!”
“You beat me…Amanda, you beat me.” mumbled Tiffany, terrified that her voice would break.
“You beat me! Amanda beat me!” she called out, as fresh tears coursed down her cheeks.
“Damn right I did! You thought you could make here, in the big time, huh? Thought you were good enough to kick my ass?” She snorted in contempt. “You never had a chance. You were fucked from the moment the fight started, bitch!”
Tiffany cringed. Was that really true? Had she ever stood a real chance? She peered up at Amanda through her tears. Something in the other woman’s eyes, the edge in her voice, gave Tiffany her answer. No. That wasn’t true. She had fought hard, she had fought well, she had had the bitch shrieking in agony on more than one occasion. Amanda was lying. She was saying these things because she wanted them to be true, but she knew they weren’t. She had beaten Tiffany, but Tiffany had taken her to her limits. Amanda knew that, but she did not want to admit it.
The bitch wanted to humble her, to make her run away with her tail between her legs and never come back. Amanda wanted that more than anything, not because she thought Tiffany couldn’t make it here, but because she knew she could. Tiffany clenched her fists as a small flame of anger began to burn deep at her core.
Amanda noticed, and yanked savagely on her hair. “Don’t you fucking DARE think about hitting me now, you cunt!” she hissed, leaning down into Tiffany’s face. “You try it, and I will BREAK you, do you hear me? You’ll be so messed up you won’t come out in public again, let alone stand up to fight!!!”
There was a murmur from the crowd, and something in their tone hinted at sympathy. Some of those women had no doubt suffered at Amanda’s hands, just as she was doing tonight. She wondered how many of them had stood over a sobbing, kneeling Amanda, too. Damn it, this bitch’s turn would come. She just had to get through this, survive the humiliation, somehow. This was a battle, just like any other. The first one tonight, she had lost – this one, she would win. She made a silent vow to herself. She would endure.
“Now, kiss my feet!” commanded Amamda. Tiffany did not even hesitate this time. Whatever the bitch wanted. If she resisted it would only make things worse, only make her humiliation longer, more drawn out, more painful. She lowered her body, not daring to use her arms, the injured muscles of her belly shrieking in protest as she pressed her breasts to the floor, and extended her head to kiss the blonde’s toes. She half-expected a kick in the face, but Amanda at least showed her that mercy. “Now the other one!” Again she obeyed wordlessly.
“Oh GOD I love it when the bitches do that!” exclaimed Amanda. “Worthless sluts worshipping the Queen Bee!” She took a deep breath. “Damn, this has got me hot!”
She stared down at Tiffany. “Now get up on your knees again and look at me, cow!” Tiffany did so, waiting, tears still trickling down her cheeks. She did not try to wipe them away. “Since you’re obviously completely useless as a fighter, I’m gonna see if there’s something you are good at!” sneered Amanda, grabbing her by her hair with both hands. “Usually I like my sluts to go, but those big cow udders of yours won’t fit in the takeout box, so I’ll just have to use you right here!”
Jerking Tiffany forward, she pressed her smooth, shaven mound into Tiffany’s open mouth. The blonde’s skin tasted of sweat, body oil, and lust. Tiffany closed her eyes tight and tried to imagine herself somewhere else, anywhere else rather than here, naked on her knees, being used as a sex toy by this brutal bitch. She extended her tongue, and slipped it between Amanda’s already parted pussy lips, seeking and finding the blonde’s clit. She began to lick, like a cat lapping milk from a saucer.
The blonde moaned in lascivious appreciation. Her back arched, pushing her loins harder against Tiffany’s face. Tiffany forgot herself for a moment and opened her eyes. Amanda had raised one hand to her chest, cupping her left breast, pinching and rolling her nipple between finger and thumb, moaning softly.
Glancing down, Amanda noticed Tiffany watching her, and smiled cruelly. “Not bad, slut!” she purred, her voice husky with arousal. “But I guess you lose a lot, so you get a lot of practice!” Again there was more laughter from the onlookers. Tiffany closed her eyes hurriedly, and wished she could close her mind too. Anger and shame fought for supremacy in her mind. She tried not to think, not to feel.
Amanda began to grind on her face, her movements slow and languid, her fingers clutching Tiffany’s head against her sex. “Mmmmm, oh yeah I bet you get a lottt of practice,” she crooned. “That’s it, loser, lick my pussy like a good little slut, ‘cause that’s all you’re good for.
Her hips began to move faster, bucking sharply rather than grinding slowly, and an edge of urgency crept into her voice as her arousal bloomed. “Eat my pussy, bitch, open your mouth wide and take it all in.” Her nails dug into Tifanny’s scalp. “Do it!” Tiffany obeyed, not caring what she had to do, so long as it would get this over with, get her out of this nightmare.
It seemed like hours that she knelt there, licking sucking, her mouth filled with Amanda’s copious juices, her nostrils filled with the scent of sweat, sex and defeat. Her nose throbbed from the constant pounding of the blonde’s pelvis, her tongue was raw and aching, when finally Amanda threw her head back, thrust her pussy harder still into Tiffany’s gaping mouth, her body going rigid, shuddering. ‘Ugh…Ungh…UNNNGGGHHH!” she bucked hard with each cry, until with an exultant scream she climaxed, nails tearing at Tiffany’s tangled hair.
A torrent of liquid flooded Tiffany’s mouth. For a brief horrible moment she thought the bitch had peed, but then she realized the blonde’s pussy had squirted in the throes of her orgasm. She didn’t know which was worse as she choked and struggled not to gag, nor to swallow, but to let the torrent cascade over her face and chin.
Panting, her body still trembling with aftershocks from her orgasm, Amanda dragged Tiffany’s head out of her crotch at last. Tiffany could still feel the heat radiating from the blonde’s body, the swollen pink head of her clit protruding from between her flared lips. Not only had Amanda disgraced her in the fight, she had now used as her plaything, in front of the entire Society. She whimpered in abject misery.
“Not bad, slut! At least your tongue is good for something!” panted Amanda breathlessly.
Sweat beaded on the ends of her hair and the tips of her fevered nipples, dripping steadily down to mingle with Tiffany’s tears and drool, and with the liquid lust of Amanda’s orgasm that coated Tiffany’s flushed, swollen and utterly defeated face, and ran down her chin, neck and heaving chest.
Amanda sneered down at Tiffany, who peered back at her with glazed eyes. She no longer cared about losing well, about putting up a brave face, about being invited back for another party. She just wanted this torment, this degradation, to be over.
“Open your mouth!” commanded the blonde sharply. Tiffany started. How did she know??? The bitch was inside her mind! She hesitated, knowing what was coming.
Amanda slid one hand out of Tiffany’s matted hair. She bent at the waist and her fingers closed over Tiffany’s left nipple, taking a firm grip on it. Tiffany flinched, trying not to move too much. Amanda straightened up, lifting Tiffany’s breast by the nipple, pulling it up high. Tiffany gasped, arching her back a little, trying to make herself as tall as she could on her knees, to relieve the strain on her nipple.
Amanda shook her breast back and forth, and Tiffany whimpered with pain, her lips trembling. “I told you to open your mouth,” scolded Amanda, “so DO IT!” She twisted Tiffany’s nipple cruelly.
Tiffany gasped out loud as agony blossomed in her breast. Her mouth flew open, revealing the mouthful of Amanda’s juices that she was concealing, hoping to keep there until she could retreat to somewhere private and spit them out. The blonde laughed triumphantly. “There, I knew it! You sneaky slut, holding out on me.” Tiffany mewled in agony and arched her back even further as Amanda tortured her breast again. “Everyone knows you southern bitches swallow!” There were laughs from the audience. “So go on!”
Tiffany whimpered. The bitch had no mercy, taking every chance to humiliate her – even this. She wanted to spit the cunt’s cum in her vicious, nasty face, but that would only prolong the torment. She screwed up her face, tried not to think about it – and swallowed hard.
There were cheers from the crowd, but Tiffany already too ashamed to care. “Woohoo!” hooted Amanda. “Slut, I think you just earned me another thousand with that!” She threw back her head and laughed. “I almost hope you’re gonna stay around so I can keep making good money off your slut ass…almost!” She laughed again as Tiffany’s tears ran freely.
Amanda took hold of Tiffany’s sopping, sweat-stained thong that hung around her neck. She pushed her hips forward as she pulled the thong to her, and used the tiny triangle in an obviously futile attempt to wipe herself clean. Cleaning up wasn’t her intention however – Tiffany knew that. This was just part of the humiliation. “Well,” laughed the blonde, “that was pointless.” She tugged the loser toward her by her hair, and wiped the trembling Tiffany’s tangled tresses through her dripping crotch. “And so was that!”
She bunched the sodden fabric of the thong in her hand, and used her fingers to push it roughly into Tiffany’s mouth. Tiffany did not even bother to resist.
“I guess you’re no more use to me, huh? So you’re done here!” She jerked Tiffany’s head around to the right, and pointed with her free hand toward the far corner of the room, where Tiffany had entered, proud and eager, an eternity ago. “So get the fuck out of here, loser!” She did not have to tell Tiffany not to rise. She turned and dropped onto all fours, making her way slowly toward the edge of the square.
She had almost gotten there when Amanda called out, “Don’t forget your bikini top, bitch! Don’t leave a mess for somebody else to clean up!”
Tiffany froze, and turned her head slowly until she noticed the crumpled remains of her bikini top laying off to her right. She crawled over to it and, knowing what Amanda would order her to do, bent her head to pick it up off the floor in her teeth, careful not to let her thong fall out of her mouth. That, she knew, would only earn her more indignity.
The crowd made as opening for her and she crawled painfully past the cluster of bodies, keeping her eyes on the carpet in front of her. She was glad of the damp, tangled mass of her hair that shrouded her face and hid her tears.
Someone in the crowd started a slow handclap. Tiffany moaned in misery. Her entire body trembled, every fibre of her being screaming at her to leap to her feet and run from the room, but she resisted. If there was any tiny hope of salvaging some shred of dignity from this debacle, that would extinguish it. She crawled, in time with the clapping, until it mercifully faded as she disappeared into the hallway.
Still she did not dare to rise, remaining on her knees, all the way to the bedroom where she had changed. Only when the door clicked shut behind her, did she collapse on her side, curling into a ball, weeping. This was the big time, and she knew she had blown it.
An hour later, she was sitting on a couch in the corner of the enormous living room, feeling surprised that she had not yet been asked to leave. She shifted uneasily, trying not to draw attention to herself. Her body ached all over. Her badly mauled right breast could barely stand the touch of her clinging dress, despite the two pain-killers that had been left on the night-stand in the bedroom where she change, and a strong vodka-and-cranberry that a waiter had brought her.
Her bikini was gone. Along with the pain killers had been a note, instructing her to leave it on the floor when she went into the bathroom. When she had returned, a long time later, it had disappeared.
A lone man approached her, dressed in a blue open-necked shirt, blue jeans and tweed jacket. He was balding, bespectacled and pushing 50, she guessed. He stopped beside the couch. “Miss Marlowe.”
Here it was – the polite but firm “invitation” to leave. She smiled wearily up at him, wishing she could curl up and go to sleep – or better still, curl up and die “Yes.”
“I’m Andrew Scribbs, the…well, I suppose you could call me the Society’s business manager.” She raised an eyebrow. Even that hurt. “May I sit?”
She frowned. “Of course.”
“Thank you.” He seated himself on the armchair across the corner from her. “His accent was a little strange – definitely not a New Yorker. “My commiserations on your loss tonight.” She said nothing, so he continued. “We already have your mailing address of course, but some people decided that should have this tonight.” He handed her a small red envelope.
Her frown deepened and she stared at it. Did they actually inform you in writing that you hadn’t made the grade? She was surprised they would bother – it was damn obvious to her.
“You should open it,” said Scribbs.
She did. It was not sealed, and she opened the flap and slid out the folded piece of card stock, in matching red, that lay within. She unfolded it, forcing her bone weary mind to concentrate on the words. Even then, she had to read aloud for anything to make sense. “The Society cordially requests the presence of Ms Tiffany Marlowe at its next gathering, to be held on…” Her voice trailed away. “I…I don’t understand.”
Scribbs was smiling. “I believe it’s quite self-explanatory.”
He nodded. “Yes, you lost…but you fought harder than many others have fought to earn a win here. Your talent has been noticed.”
“But…” She could not bring herself to comprehend what he was saying.
“Others have lost in a far worse fashion than you, my dear…including Amanda herself, on more than one occasion.”
Her crushed heart began to pound in her chest. Even that hurt. “You mean…” she held up the invitation. “I can come back.” She almost sobbed with joy and relief when she said the words.
“Yes my dear. Welcome to the Society.”