Fighter Writer
Potential Patron
- Joined
- Oct 2, 2013
Hello all. I thought I'd introduce myself by posting a story I wrote a few years ago and posted in a Yahoo Group. I've not written much (or really anything) in the interim, a combination of lack of time and a lot of procrastination. However, I do still enjoy writing and am hoping that signing up here might help me rediscover my muse.
The story below is actually a slightly rewritten version of the original. It features all original characters - I've just never had the desire to write with established characters - but I hope that won't put anyone off. I'll say no more and just let you make your own decision about the story. All feedback will be very welcome!
Thanks.
In so much as anyone can be, Brad was perfect. Physically, at least. Toned, without being too muscular, his blond hair cropped to precision and his face was smooth, handsome and with a gleaming smile so white, he could have stood on the coastline and kept ships at bay at night. What was all the more surprising about his good looks was that Brad was, and had been for many of his 27 years, a boxer. Bare knuckle. Whilst his peers often displayed the tell-tale signs of years in the ring, be it broken noses, permanent scars (not caused by evil wizards whose name cannot not be mentioned) or ears that were anything but symmetrical, Brad's features were as flawless as they had been the day he first entered the ring. Indeed, it was his enormous vanity which had made him such an efficient fighter. With a record of 33-0 victories against both men and women, 24 by knockout and 15 of those in the opening two rounds, it was clears that Brad's narcissism was as much an effective defence as his fighting ability. Nobody touches the face.
In the ring, Brad was moments away from adding one more statistic to all of the three previously listed records, as he rained punches on another woefully outclassed opponent. A young brunette woman, no more than 24 years old, was staggering around the canvas, her vacant face bruised and swollen. Brad sunk a fist into the battered girl's gut, doubling her over. The crowd cheered and booed in equal measure, but Brad bathed in any recognition, arrogantly raising his hands above his head and walking slowly around his clearly already beaten opponent. She stood upright, still breathing heavily and looked around blankly for Brad, who was now standing behind her. Tapping her gently on the shoulder, he waited as she turned around.
Obviously almost out her feet, her fists were barely raised above waist height when she faced Brad and he swiftly made her pay for her complacency. A left hook slammed into her jaw, knocking her head sideways. A right cross did the same, smacking her back in the other direction. Brad began to deliver rights and lefts in rapid succession. Each one would have sent the woman to the canvas but he kept her on her feet by keeping his blows quick, and continuing to alternate between left and right punches, pounding her jaw like a tennis ball going back and forth across a net.
From the corner of his eye, Brad noticed the referee approaching fast, undoubtedly with the intention of stopping the fight. Determined not to be denied yet another first round knockout (for it was just 126 seconds into the match), Brad quickly took a quick sidestep so that his own body obscured the referee's view of his brunette punching bag. Brad then powered his fist deep into the beaten girl's crotch, the pain intense enough to snap her out of her punch-drunk stupor just long enough for her to emit a guttural yelp, before a thunderous uppercut caught her cold directly on the chin and she collapsed backwards into the ropes, hanging limply like a butterfly trapped in a spider's web. Before the referee was on the scene, Brad quickly shook the ropes with his hands, causing his opponent to slump face forwards onto the canvas. Brad stepped aside and allowed the official to make the formal, but wholly unnecessary ten count over the comatose woman.
As Brad paraded the ring, basking in the crowd's equal adulation and loathing, he noticed a face in the crowd. A blonde woman with an attractive but currently impassive face. She shook her head slightly at Brad's delight in his effortless victory and Brad grinned smugly as her blew her an exaggerated kiss. "You're next, Tina." He called out across the sound of the baying crowds. "Think you'll last longer than this one?" he sneered, waving towards the still unconscious woman on the canvas. "Hey," he shouted, a thought suddenly occurring to him, "How about a taste of things to come?" he asked, and moved back towards the knocked out female.
The referee was still in the ring and made a move to stop Brad. However, one look into Brad's eyes quickly changed his mind and he quickly clambered through the ropes. Alone with his recent prey, Brad pulled the woman back to her feet. Her consciousness was returning slowly, but she was still in no state to support her own weight. Ever the gentleman, Brad dragged her to the corner of the ring, the corner nearest to Tina's seat in the crowd. Brad hung the woozy female's arms over the ropes on either side of the corner-post, her back leaning against it. He twisted the ropes around each of her wrists for good measure, as she stirred. "Whhuuu.....?" She mumbled weakly, her eyes opening gradually as her cognitive functions slowly came back.
Brad took one last look into the crowd, his stare connecting directly with Tina's. "We fight in three weeks time," he shouted. "And here's just a little of what you'll be getting...." Turning his attention solely on his defenceless punchbag, Brad ploughed a fist deep into her soft belly. She grunted as the blow connected, eliciting an "OOOMMFFFF!!!" With her arms trapped, the woman's natural instinct to clutch her stomach was denied. Instead her legs lifted off the canvas, as she doubled up in pain. She was far too weak too hold them up for long though, and they dropped back down, allowing her winded gut no relief.
Any respite would have been short-lived anyway as Brad again slammed a punch into her stomach, once more causing the helpless female to utter a breathless "UUUNMMMMPPPPHHHHH!!!" as Brad's fist drove into her belly. The muscled fighter began to dance on his feet, as though ready to avoid a barrage of punches from his opponent that was clearly not coming.
"Let's see if I can find a way through your defence here," he mocked at his trussed target, bobbing and weaving before slamming a vicious right hook crashing into her cheek. Her head rocked sideways and she grunted a pained, "Unnkkkkkhhhh!!!" as his fist connected with absolute conviction. "I think you've left yourself open a little on your left too," he smirked, and delivered a left cross that sent a spray of spittle spraying from the woman's mouth as his punch hit home. The two successive strikes had been almost enough to send the woman back to dreamland, and would have done had Brad not been holding back just enough to prolong his showboating. Her head slumped forward woozily, so much so that Brad's subsequent uppercut caught her full in the face, momentarily distorting what had been an attractive visage before the match had started. The impact snapped her head backwards, and left her staring up into the arena's ceiling lights. The woman's eyes were still open, but glazed over, suggesting that her own lights may have been on but there was no-one home. Brad decided to knock and see.
Brad's knuckles ploughed decisively into her groin, the soft almost inaudible thump as fist hit silk shorts a stark contrast to the intense pain the blow had clearly caused. The woman's legs closed involuntarily around Brad's hand and she gurgled a strangled yelp of agony. Her head jerked upright, her face contorted in pain and tears glistened in the corners of her eyes. "Oh hey, you are still with us," exclaimed Brad. "I'm glad to hear it." He grinned. "Let's hear it again." His fist slammed into her crotch a second time, causing her to cry out again; it was a guttural high pitched animalistic grunt that highlighted her loss of any control. Tears now flowed freely down her face, and then showered the nearby fans in front row seats and Brad's merciless flurry of lefts and rights smacked her head from side to side, each blow spraying her sweat, spit and tears from her face.
Tina had seen enough and leapt from her seat. She sprinted to the ring and climbed through the ropes, determined to put a stop to the beatdown she was witnessing. Placing herself directly between Brad and the groaning woman hanging on the turnbuckle, she stared into the vicious fighter's eyes. "I'm going to make you pay for this," she said through gritted teeth. "I don't care where, when or how. You call it, I'll be there"
Brad shrugged his shoulders. "What's the problem? She's perfectly OK, look." He waved casually towards the woman behind Tina, who automatically turned slightly to look behind her. Instantly realising her mistake, Tina quickly turned back to face Brad - but it was too late. His fist slammed into her unprotected gut, doubling her over with an almighty "WHHHHHHHHHHHHHHUUUUUUUURRRRPPPPPHHHHHHH!!!". He followed up with an uppercut to her face, his fist connecting with a smack that resounded around the arena as a stunned Tina fell backwards. Unable to control her descent, the back of Tina's head cracked into the already aching groin of the woman she had entered the ring to protect. The woman groaned in agony one last time before unconsciousness finally overcame her. She slumped forwards, falling from the ropes and landing in a tangled mess of limbs on top of the equally KO'd Tina.
Brad smirked. "Ladies, please. Get a room!" He raised his hands in victory, already eagerly anticipating his imminent match with Tina. And he knew just what sort of match he wanted.
The floor of the pit was sandy, and felt deceptively soft underfoot. Brad knew it was less forgiving when you were slammed into it, although that knowledge came purely from the expressions on the faces of the many opponents he had done that to in the pit, over many years of combat. It wasn't something he'd ever experienced first-hand.
The pit was circular, with a diameter of only about six metres. The enclosed space made avoiding your opponent almost impossible, something Brad relished. On numerous occasions during Brad's matches, his opponent had tried to flee when they had realised just how outclassed they were; but the pit had given them nowhere to go. There were no doors, no openings of any kind around the solid stone wall of the pit. Fighters were lowered into the arena, by means of a rope pulley system. Once you were in, you left as either winner, unconscious, or worse.
Although the are of the pit was small, the walls surrounding it were considerably higher, almost twenty feet around its circumference. Glancing upwards, Brad could see a ring of faces leaning over the wall of the pit, looking down in eager anticipation at the contest that was soon to begin. Many of the women were gazing appreciatively at Brad; unsurprisingly perhaps given that he was wearing only a smile. He was not remotely self conscious about his naked form, indeed it had been Brad himself who had decided on the apparel - or more specifically, lack of apparel for his upcoming match with Tina. The entire surface of his muscled physique glistened under the artificial lights of the pit, whilst his considerably larger than average cock hung between his legs, attracting intense stares from some of the women present.
As Brad smiled back at his appreciative fans, mentally picking out the two or three women he might invite back to his hotel when the match was over, he heard a cheer erupt from the crowd. The heads that circled the pit parted at one point, and a foot swung over the pit wall, resting in a looped rope. The rest of Tina's body followed and she was soon being lowered into the pit as the cheers from above increased, some for her, some for Brad and most simply in anticipation of the upcoming match. When the rope was a few feet from the pit floor, Tina jumped the remaining distance, landing perfectly but not unable to stop gravity causing her ample breasts to bounce somewhat as her feet hit the floor.
Like Brad, Tina wore nothing. Her physique was one of near perfection. Blond, shoulder length hair framed a beautiful face, her button nose and winning smile had broken almost as many men's hearts as she had broken bones. Her 36 inch chest was all her own and it moved in unison with her steady breathing as she awaited the start of the match. Before she had begun her successful fight career, Tina had been a fitness model for many years, winning numerous competitions. It had been her competitive nature that had brought her to the world of mixed combat, and it was a world that she had excelled in, with the same immense success as her modelling career.
There was no bell in the pit. The fight would begin as soon as both fighters were present and the pulley-rope was removed. Tina did not even need to look to know that the rope was now gone, indeed she made a point not to take her eyes off of Brad for even a fraction of a second, remembering all-too-well the outcome, the last time she had done that. Brad's arrogance showed no sign of abating as he walked up to the former fitness model, making no obvious attempt to defend himself. They stared, chest to chest, eyeball to eyeball for a few seconds, the crowd falling silent at the intensity displayed between both fighters.
Tina made the first move, her fist speeding towards Brad's face. He expertly sidestepped the punch, responding with one of his own that Tina did not avoid, the left cross catching her full on the cheek. The quick strike gave him an opening for an early salvo, following up his initial punch with a combination of rights and lefts, all hitting home as a surprised Tina tried to cover up. As she brought her guard up, Brad took his attack downstairs. Tina's washboard stomach was tough, but Brad's punches were powerful, fast and stinging in their application and they slowly began to wear the athletic woman down.
Tina found himself being forced backwards and in the enclosed space of the pit it was not long before the cold concrete wall brought her retreat to a halt. She kept his guard up, her forearms blocking some of Brad's blows to her gut. But she was unable to prevent many of them slamming into her ribs and kidneys, the constant powerful pummelling was already taking its toll.
In desperation, Tina dropped her guard and began to throw random punches, in the hope of keeping Brad at a distance until she her breath returned. Brad sidestepped her flailing fists with ease, and caught the unsuspecting blonde with a quick right cross, smacking her head sideways. A subsequent left cross knocked her head the other way, causing her to grunt in pain. Brad smiled and slammed his knee into her stomach. She uttered a winded "Ouuupphhh!!", her body jolting with the impact. Brad followed up with another harsh knee to the gut, this one lower, just above her crotch. As his knee thumped into Tina's soft flesh, she groaned as white hot pain spread through her lower belly.
Tina groaned considerably louder and longer when Brad's knee rose again, this time stopping only when it smashed into her exposed groin. Her entire body spasmed at the moment Brad's knee slammed into her crotch, the pain causing Tina to unleash a high pitched "UUUURRRGHHHLLLLLLLL!!!!" With her hands dropping to her tender area, Brad again went to work on the blonde's face. A right hook crashed into the side her mouth, altering her cry of pain that accompanied the blow into a "UUMMMMFFFFF!!" Brad followed up with a series of jabs; quick, snapping, powerful punches directly into Tina's face. Her head jerked back each time, accompanied by an "Unnngghh!" or an "Unnnkkkk!!". Every jab smacked full into Tina's face, her nose and mouth taking the brunt of the punishment. A vicious and perfectly placed uppercut slammed into Tina's chin, almost lifting her feet from the floor of the pit. She would surely have fallen backwards but the pit wall was behind her and she instead fell back against it, barely able to stay standing.
Brad turned away from the dazed blonde, his arms raised as he looked up to the crowd surrounding the pit. The cheers were enormous - there were no good guys and bad guys as far as a pit audience was concerned. You were either winner or loser, and were recognised accordingly by the assembled spectators. Satisfied with a moment's adulation, Brad turned back to Tina. He had only just begun.
Standing in front of the defenceless woman, Brad pulled his arm back, ready to unleash another punch. Before he could, Brad noticed a change in the crowd's reaction. In a moment their cheers of adulation had changed to a chorus of surprise. Unaware of what had caused the audience to sound so shocked, Brad looked up. Sliding down a rope secured at the top of the pit was the woman Brad had beaten a few weeks previously. The woman Tina had attempted to help. Brad could not help but smile at the symmetry of the situation.
The woman was naked, and so obviously here to fight. She reached the floor of the pit and turned to face Brad. Though it had been some time since their last encounter, many of the bruises from her contest with Brad were still visible. "Leave her alone," said the brunette, with more determination than her battle-worn body suggested she should have. "It's over." In a Hollywood movie, such a defiant stand for a friend would have most likely been accompanied by a crescendo of epic music and followed by an enormous cheer by the crowd. But this was real life, and the audience were here to see a fight. They hurled abuse at Tina's would-be saviour, angry at her attempt to halt their entertainment.
Brad grinned at the crowd's predictable response. "I'm sorry," he said to the brunette, "I didn't catch your name the last time we met."
"It's Anna UNNNNGGGGGGGGGGGGggghhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!" replied the brunette. Anna's surname was not in fact UNNNNGGGGGGGGGGGGggghhhhhhhhhhhhhh. The noise she had made had actually been response to Brad's foot thudding into her crotch. The noise she made accompanied her slow collapse to her knees. A merciless roundhouse kick to the face brought a swift end to Anna's rescue attempt and left her unconscious on the floor of the pit, a small amount of drool dribbled from her mouth, moistening the sand beneath her face.
Brad looked down at the defeated woman with the closest thing he ever could ever get to pity. Which, in all honesty, wasn't very close at all. Suddenly Tina was on him, her arm wrapping around his throat as she jumped onto his back. Her legs snaked around his waist, attempting to crush the life out of the surprised fighter. In a ring surrounded by ropes, Tina's plan might have succeeded. In the confines of the pit however, it was bound to fail. Before Tina could do any serious damage, Brad backstepped quickly into the outer wall of the pit, slamming Tina against it with enough impact to loosen the grip of her legs from his body. Her arm remained around his neck, but with less strength now. Brad drove his right elbow sharply backwards, digging it deeply into Tina's soft belly. Her subsequent guttural "OOOOOOUUUUFFFFF!!!" breathed warm air directly onto his left ear. Enjoying the sensation, Brad repeated the move with his left elbow, again winding the woman now hanging limply on his back. Eager to make the most of Tina's prone position, Brad suddenly leant forwards, flipping Tina off his back and onto her own back, she fell crashing onto the unforgiving surface of the pit directly in front of him.
Brad smiled at the benefits of Tina's position. Beneficial for him. She was on her back, looking upwards through dazed eyes. Her head was only inches from his feet, and she was lying directly in line with his now very aroused manhood. For Brad, it was an opportunity too good to miss. Dropping to his knees, Brad straddled the blonde's surprised face with his crotch, pinning her arms under his knees. His balls smothered her mouth and nose and he could immediately feel her struggling for breath beneath him. Her body lay before him, completely unprotected. Brad did not need any more invitation than that and began to slam punch after punch into Tina's gut and breasts, each impact causing her body to spasm. Muffled grunts of pain came from the vicinity of Brad's groin, as Tina's breath warmed his balls whilst his onslaught continued unabated.
Bringing his fists together as if in prayer to some deity of fighters, Brad's intentions were not so divine. Slamming them down in unison, they pounded into Tina's exposed crotch. A muffled yelp of pain brought a smile to Brad's face as Tina's body curled into a foetal position, clearly in sheer agony. Lifting his crotch from her face, he looked down between his legs and smiled at Tina, who was simultaneously trying to draw breath and groaning in pain. "Still conscious then?" he observed. "Let's see what we can do about that."
Standing up, Brad dragged Tina to her feet. She had the strength to stand, but to do little else. Right now, the simple (and soon to be essential) act of defending herself was as likely as Tina suddenly learning how to play the piano. A bare foot smacked across her face, knocking her sideways with a dazed "Unnnhh...!" The same foot met her face again, this time knocking her in the other direction. And again to the left. And to the right. Brad was executing roundhouse kick after roundhouse kick, the sole of his right foot hammering Tina's face with the steady rhythm of a metronome, though with the usual 'tick tock' replaced with "Smack! Unnh! Smack! Ummfff!" The crowd began to clap in time with each of Brad's kicks, clapping faster and Brad responding in kind by kicking more rapidly. After one last kick, Brad turned away from Tina's now glassy-eyed, drooling and extremely bruised face. With his back to Tina, he bowed deeply to the crowd. They roared in appreciation as, without rising from the bow, he executed a back heel kick that caught Tina full in the face, momentarily crushing her features into a distorted mess, her mouth twisted, her nose flattened by Brad's unstoppable heel. Tina staggered backwards, steadying herself against the pit wall.
It was time to end it. But that didn't mean Brad wasn't going to make it last as long as possible. Perhaps longer.
Brad moved in with a series of punches to Tina's soft belly, each one causing what little breath remained in her lungs to expel with each "OOOFFF!! WHUUUPPHHHH!!!UUURKKKKKHHH!!!" A vicious left hook sent Tina's head spinning into the path of an equally merciless right hook. Brad repeated the left/right combination three times, smacking Tina around the pit like a piñata. Pausing for a moment, Brad opened and closed his fists, flexing his fingers. The closest thing he had come to any kind of injury in this contest was a slight reddening of his knuckles, a side effect of their repeated and punishing contact with numerous parts of Tina's body.
Deciding to switch things up, Brad returned to a kicking assault. The first, a front snap kick that pierced Tina's gut like a spear. She doubled over instantly, her mouth open in a silent, breathless wheeze. Grasping a handlful of hair in his hand, Brad held Tina in her stooped position and cracked his knee into her face. Her body momentarily slumped on impact, a split second of unconsciousness that unfortunately for Tina, did not last.
Still holding Tina's hair tightly, Brad jerked her upright and delivered another merciless knee strike, directly between her thighs. She emitted a yelped gurgle, the tortured expression on her face painted a clear picture of the pain she was experiencing. And it was picture Brad was keen to keep creating. He released Tina's hair, and took a firm grip of her shoulders before driving another relentless knee strike into her pussy. And another. And another. Her squeals of anguish had now become just a continuous low groan that momentarily increased in pitch with the impact of every vicious knee strike.
The knee strikes soon gave way to another succession of roundhouse kicks, each one impacting on Tina's face with pinpoint precision. The soles of Brad's feet slammed into her cheeks, her face, her nose, her mouth, her chin. Over and over and over, his technique as graceful as a ballet dancer, as powerful as a pro-footballer. Tina felt the impact of every blow, what little capacity she had for rational thought was now only able to process the pain she was in, and the realisation of her humbling defeat. Brad's feet struck again and again, now targeting her entire body indiscriminately. Kick after kick pummelled Tina's broken body as foot met crotch, gut, ribs, breasts, chin, thighs....
Finally, Brad decided it was enough. Not out of any sense of pity or mercy, Brad experienced neither such emotion during a fight. But his now effortless domination of yet another challenger had aroused him to almost bursting point, and it was time to satiate his other carnal desires. A spinning heel kick connected with devastating accuracy against Tina's chin. The impact sent her spinning a full 180 degrees, and by the time she was facing Brad again, his foot was already on route to her head. Brad's sole impacted against Tina's features with an audible crunch and she instantly slumped forwards, landing face first onto the sandy surface of the pit. Unmoving.
The crowd began the somewhat redundant ten count. Each number was followed by a rousing cheer as Brad used his foot to roll Tina onto her back. Her now puffy eyes were closed, her breathing shallow. He placed his foot gently on her face as the count continued. "Seven... Eight... Nine... TEN!!!" The crowd erupted, now seemingly all fans of Brad, such was the hypnotic power of his dominant display. Brad took a final glance at his two beaten opponents and smiled. Maybe next time 2 vs 1 wouldn't be such a bad idea, he mused. Frankly, he needed a challenge!
The story below is actually a slightly rewritten version of the original. It features all original characters - I've just never had the desire to write with established characters - but I hope that won't put anyone off. I'll say no more and just let you make your own decision about the story. All feedback will be very welcome!
Thanks.
THE PIT
In so much as anyone can be, Brad was perfect. Physically, at least. Toned, without being too muscular, his blond hair cropped to precision and his face was smooth, handsome and with a gleaming smile so white, he could have stood on the coastline and kept ships at bay at night. What was all the more surprising about his good looks was that Brad was, and had been for many of his 27 years, a boxer. Bare knuckle. Whilst his peers often displayed the tell-tale signs of years in the ring, be it broken noses, permanent scars (not caused by evil wizards whose name cannot not be mentioned) or ears that were anything but symmetrical, Brad's features were as flawless as they had been the day he first entered the ring. Indeed, it was his enormous vanity which had made him such an efficient fighter. With a record of 33-0 victories against both men and women, 24 by knockout and 15 of those in the opening two rounds, it was clears that Brad's narcissism was as much an effective defence as his fighting ability. Nobody touches the face.
In the ring, Brad was moments away from adding one more statistic to all of the three previously listed records, as he rained punches on another woefully outclassed opponent. A young brunette woman, no more than 24 years old, was staggering around the canvas, her vacant face bruised and swollen. Brad sunk a fist into the battered girl's gut, doubling her over. The crowd cheered and booed in equal measure, but Brad bathed in any recognition, arrogantly raising his hands above his head and walking slowly around his clearly already beaten opponent. She stood upright, still breathing heavily and looked around blankly for Brad, who was now standing behind her. Tapping her gently on the shoulder, he waited as she turned around.
Obviously almost out her feet, her fists were barely raised above waist height when she faced Brad and he swiftly made her pay for her complacency. A left hook slammed into her jaw, knocking her head sideways. A right cross did the same, smacking her back in the other direction. Brad began to deliver rights and lefts in rapid succession. Each one would have sent the woman to the canvas but he kept her on her feet by keeping his blows quick, and continuing to alternate between left and right punches, pounding her jaw like a tennis ball going back and forth across a net.
From the corner of his eye, Brad noticed the referee approaching fast, undoubtedly with the intention of stopping the fight. Determined not to be denied yet another first round knockout (for it was just 126 seconds into the match), Brad quickly took a quick sidestep so that his own body obscured the referee's view of his brunette punching bag. Brad then powered his fist deep into the beaten girl's crotch, the pain intense enough to snap her out of her punch-drunk stupor just long enough for her to emit a guttural yelp, before a thunderous uppercut caught her cold directly on the chin and she collapsed backwards into the ropes, hanging limply like a butterfly trapped in a spider's web. Before the referee was on the scene, Brad quickly shook the ropes with his hands, causing his opponent to slump face forwards onto the canvas. Brad stepped aside and allowed the official to make the formal, but wholly unnecessary ten count over the comatose woman.
As Brad paraded the ring, basking in the crowd's equal adulation and loathing, he noticed a face in the crowd. A blonde woman with an attractive but currently impassive face. She shook her head slightly at Brad's delight in his effortless victory and Brad grinned smugly as her blew her an exaggerated kiss. "You're next, Tina." He called out across the sound of the baying crowds. "Think you'll last longer than this one?" he sneered, waving towards the still unconscious woman on the canvas. "Hey," he shouted, a thought suddenly occurring to him, "How about a taste of things to come?" he asked, and moved back towards the knocked out female.
The referee was still in the ring and made a move to stop Brad. However, one look into Brad's eyes quickly changed his mind and he quickly clambered through the ropes. Alone with his recent prey, Brad pulled the woman back to her feet. Her consciousness was returning slowly, but she was still in no state to support her own weight. Ever the gentleman, Brad dragged her to the corner of the ring, the corner nearest to Tina's seat in the crowd. Brad hung the woozy female's arms over the ropes on either side of the corner-post, her back leaning against it. He twisted the ropes around each of her wrists for good measure, as she stirred. "Whhuuu.....?" She mumbled weakly, her eyes opening gradually as her cognitive functions slowly came back.
Brad took one last look into the crowd, his stare connecting directly with Tina's. "We fight in three weeks time," he shouted. "And here's just a little of what you'll be getting...." Turning his attention solely on his defenceless punchbag, Brad ploughed a fist deep into her soft belly. She grunted as the blow connected, eliciting an "OOOMMFFFF!!!" With her arms trapped, the woman's natural instinct to clutch her stomach was denied. Instead her legs lifted off the canvas, as she doubled up in pain. She was far too weak too hold them up for long though, and they dropped back down, allowing her winded gut no relief.
Any respite would have been short-lived anyway as Brad again slammed a punch into her stomach, once more causing the helpless female to utter a breathless "UUUNMMMMPPPPHHHHH!!!" as Brad's fist drove into her belly. The muscled fighter began to dance on his feet, as though ready to avoid a barrage of punches from his opponent that was clearly not coming.
"Let's see if I can find a way through your defence here," he mocked at his trussed target, bobbing and weaving before slamming a vicious right hook crashing into her cheek. Her head rocked sideways and she grunted a pained, "Unnkkkkkhhhh!!!" as his fist connected with absolute conviction. "I think you've left yourself open a little on your left too," he smirked, and delivered a left cross that sent a spray of spittle spraying from the woman's mouth as his punch hit home. The two successive strikes had been almost enough to send the woman back to dreamland, and would have done had Brad not been holding back just enough to prolong his showboating. Her head slumped forward woozily, so much so that Brad's subsequent uppercut caught her full in the face, momentarily distorting what had been an attractive visage before the match had started. The impact snapped her head backwards, and left her staring up into the arena's ceiling lights. The woman's eyes were still open, but glazed over, suggesting that her own lights may have been on but there was no-one home. Brad decided to knock and see.
Brad's knuckles ploughed decisively into her groin, the soft almost inaudible thump as fist hit silk shorts a stark contrast to the intense pain the blow had clearly caused. The woman's legs closed involuntarily around Brad's hand and she gurgled a strangled yelp of agony. Her head jerked upright, her face contorted in pain and tears glistened in the corners of her eyes. "Oh hey, you are still with us," exclaimed Brad. "I'm glad to hear it." He grinned. "Let's hear it again." His fist slammed into her crotch a second time, causing her to cry out again; it was a guttural high pitched animalistic grunt that highlighted her loss of any control. Tears now flowed freely down her face, and then showered the nearby fans in front row seats and Brad's merciless flurry of lefts and rights smacked her head from side to side, each blow spraying her sweat, spit and tears from her face.
Tina had seen enough and leapt from her seat. She sprinted to the ring and climbed through the ropes, determined to put a stop to the beatdown she was witnessing. Placing herself directly between Brad and the groaning woman hanging on the turnbuckle, she stared into the vicious fighter's eyes. "I'm going to make you pay for this," she said through gritted teeth. "I don't care where, when or how. You call it, I'll be there"
Brad shrugged his shoulders. "What's the problem? She's perfectly OK, look." He waved casually towards the woman behind Tina, who automatically turned slightly to look behind her. Instantly realising her mistake, Tina quickly turned back to face Brad - but it was too late. His fist slammed into her unprotected gut, doubling her over with an almighty "WHHHHHHHHHHHHHHUUUUUUUURRRRPPPPPHHHHHHH!!!". He followed up with an uppercut to her face, his fist connecting with a smack that resounded around the arena as a stunned Tina fell backwards. Unable to control her descent, the back of Tina's head cracked into the already aching groin of the woman she had entered the ring to protect. The woman groaned in agony one last time before unconsciousness finally overcame her. She slumped forwards, falling from the ropes and landing in a tangled mess of limbs on top of the equally KO'd Tina.
Brad smirked. "Ladies, please. Get a room!" He raised his hands in victory, already eagerly anticipating his imminent match with Tina. And he knew just what sort of match he wanted.
* * * *
The floor of the pit was sandy, and felt deceptively soft underfoot. Brad knew it was less forgiving when you were slammed into it, although that knowledge came purely from the expressions on the faces of the many opponents he had done that to in the pit, over many years of combat. It wasn't something he'd ever experienced first-hand.
The pit was circular, with a diameter of only about six metres. The enclosed space made avoiding your opponent almost impossible, something Brad relished. On numerous occasions during Brad's matches, his opponent had tried to flee when they had realised just how outclassed they were; but the pit had given them nowhere to go. There were no doors, no openings of any kind around the solid stone wall of the pit. Fighters were lowered into the arena, by means of a rope pulley system. Once you were in, you left as either winner, unconscious, or worse.
Although the are of the pit was small, the walls surrounding it were considerably higher, almost twenty feet around its circumference. Glancing upwards, Brad could see a ring of faces leaning over the wall of the pit, looking down in eager anticipation at the contest that was soon to begin. Many of the women were gazing appreciatively at Brad; unsurprisingly perhaps given that he was wearing only a smile. He was not remotely self conscious about his naked form, indeed it had been Brad himself who had decided on the apparel - or more specifically, lack of apparel for his upcoming match with Tina. The entire surface of his muscled physique glistened under the artificial lights of the pit, whilst his considerably larger than average cock hung between his legs, attracting intense stares from some of the women present.
As Brad smiled back at his appreciative fans, mentally picking out the two or three women he might invite back to his hotel when the match was over, he heard a cheer erupt from the crowd. The heads that circled the pit parted at one point, and a foot swung over the pit wall, resting in a looped rope. The rest of Tina's body followed and she was soon being lowered into the pit as the cheers from above increased, some for her, some for Brad and most simply in anticipation of the upcoming match. When the rope was a few feet from the pit floor, Tina jumped the remaining distance, landing perfectly but not unable to stop gravity causing her ample breasts to bounce somewhat as her feet hit the floor.
Like Brad, Tina wore nothing. Her physique was one of near perfection. Blond, shoulder length hair framed a beautiful face, her button nose and winning smile had broken almost as many men's hearts as she had broken bones. Her 36 inch chest was all her own and it moved in unison with her steady breathing as she awaited the start of the match. Before she had begun her successful fight career, Tina had been a fitness model for many years, winning numerous competitions. It had been her competitive nature that had brought her to the world of mixed combat, and it was a world that she had excelled in, with the same immense success as her modelling career.
There was no bell in the pit. The fight would begin as soon as both fighters were present and the pulley-rope was removed. Tina did not even need to look to know that the rope was now gone, indeed she made a point not to take her eyes off of Brad for even a fraction of a second, remembering all-too-well the outcome, the last time she had done that. Brad's arrogance showed no sign of abating as he walked up to the former fitness model, making no obvious attempt to defend himself. They stared, chest to chest, eyeball to eyeball for a few seconds, the crowd falling silent at the intensity displayed between both fighters.
Tina made the first move, her fist speeding towards Brad's face. He expertly sidestepped the punch, responding with one of his own that Tina did not avoid, the left cross catching her full on the cheek. The quick strike gave him an opening for an early salvo, following up his initial punch with a combination of rights and lefts, all hitting home as a surprised Tina tried to cover up. As she brought her guard up, Brad took his attack downstairs. Tina's washboard stomach was tough, but Brad's punches were powerful, fast and stinging in their application and they slowly began to wear the athletic woman down.
Tina found himself being forced backwards and in the enclosed space of the pit it was not long before the cold concrete wall brought her retreat to a halt. She kept his guard up, her forearms blocking some of Brad's blows to her gut. But she was unable to prevent many of them slamming into her ribs and kidneys, the constant powerful pummelling was already taking its toll.
In desperation, Tina dropped her guard and began to throw random punches, in the hope of keeping Brad at a distance until she her breath returned. Brad sidestepped her flailing fists with ease, and caught the unsuspecting blonde with a quick right cross, smacking her head sideways. A subsequent left cross knocked her head the other way, causing her to grunt in pain. Brad smiled and slammed his knee into her stomach. She uttered a winded "Ouuupphhh!!", her body jolting with the impact. Brad followed up with another harsh knee to the gut, this one lower, just above her crotch. As his knee thumped into Tina's soft flesh, she groaned as white hot pain spread through her lower belly.
Tina groaned considerably louder and longer when Brad's knee rose again, this time stopping only when it smashed into her exposed groin. Her entire body spasmed at the moment Brad's knee slammed into her crotch, the pain causing Tina to unleash a high pitched "UUUURRRGHHHLLLLLLLL!!!!" With her hands dropping to her tender area, Brad again went to work on the blonde's face. A right hook crashed into the side her mouth, altering her cry of pain that accompanied the blow into a "UUMMMMFFFFF!!" Brad followed up with a series of jabs; quick, snapping, powerful punches directly into Tina's face. Her head jerked back each time, accompanied by an "Unnngghh!" or an "Unnnkkkk!!". Every jab smacked full into Tina's face, her nose and mouth taking the brunt of the punishment. A vicious and perfectly placed uppercut slammed into Tina's chin, almost lifting her feet from the floor of the pit. She would surely have fallen backwards but the pit wall was behind her and she instead fell back against it, barely able to stay standing.
Brad turned away from the dazed blonde, his arms raised as he looked up to the crowd surrounding the pit. The cheers were enormous - there were no good guys and bad guys as far as a pit audience was concerned. You were either winner or loser, and were recognised accordingly by the assembled spectators. Satisfied with a moment's adulation, Brad turned back to Tina. He had only just begun.
Standing in front of the defenceless woman, Brad pulled his arm back, ready to unleash another punch. Before he could, Brad noticed a change in the crowd's reaction. In a moment their cheers of adulation had changed to a chorus of surprise. Unaware of what had caused the audience to sound so shocked, Brad looked up. Sliding down a rope secured at the top of the pit was the woman Brad had beaten a few weeks previously. The woman Tina had attempted to help. Brad could not help but smile at the symmetry of the situation.
The woman was naked, and so obviously here to fight. She reached the floor of the pit and turned to face Brad. Though it had been some time since their last encounter, many of the bruises from her contest with Brad were still visible. "Leave her alone," said the brunette, with more determination than her battle-worn body suggested she should have. "It's over." In a Hollywood movie, such a defiant stand for a friend would have most likely been accompanied by a crescendo of epic music and followed by an enormous cheer by the crowd. But this was real life, and the audience were here to see a fight. They hurled abuse at Tina's would-be saviour, angry at her attempt to halt their entertainment.
Brad grinned at the crowd's predictable response. "I'm sorry," he said to the brunette, "I didn't catch your name the last time we met."
"It's Anna UNNNNGGGGGGGGGGGGggghhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!" replied the brunette. Anna's surname was not in fact UNNNNGGGGGGGGGGGGggghhhhhhhhhhhhhh. The noise she had made had actually been response to Brad's foot thudding into her crotch. The noise she made accompanied her slow collapse to her knees. A merciless roundhouse kick to the face brought a swift end to Anna's rescue attempt and left her unconscious on the floor of the pit, a small amount of drool dribbled from her mouth, moistening the sand beneath her face.
Brad looked down at the defeated woman with the closest thing he ever could ever get to pity. Which, in all honesty, wasn't very close at all. Suddenly Tina was on him, her arm wrapping around his throat as she jumped onto his back. Her legs snaked around his waist, attempting to crush the life out of the surprised fighter. In a ring surrounded by ropes, Tina's plan might have succeeded. In the confines of the pit however, it was bound to fail. Before Tina could do any serious damage, Brad backstepped quickly into the outer wall of the pit, slamming Tina against it with enough impact to loosen the grip of her legs from his body. Her arm remained around his neck, but with less strength now. Brad drove his right elbow sharply backwards, digging it deeply into Tina's soft belly. Her subsequent guttural "OOOOOOUUUUFFFFF!!!" breathed warm air directly onto his left ear. Enjoying the sensation, Brad repeated the move with his left elbow, again winding the woman now hanging limply on his back. Eager to make the most of Tina's prone position, Brad suddenly leant forwards, flipping Tina off his back and onto her own back, she fell crashing onto the unforgiving surface of the pit directly in front of him.
Brad smiled at the benefits of Tina's position. Beneficial for him. She was on her back, looking upwards through dazed eyes. Her head was only inches from his feet, and she was lying directly in line with his now very aroused manhood. For Brad, it was an opportunity too good to miss. Dropping to his knees, Brad straddled the blonde's surprised face with his crotch, pinning her arms under his knees. His balls smothered her mouth and nose and he could immediately feel her struggling for breath beneath him. Her body lay before him, completely unprotected. Brad did not need any more invitation than that and began to slam punch after punch into Tina's gut and breasts, each impact causing her body to spasm. Muffled grunts of pain came from the vicinity of Brad's groin, as Tina's breath warmed his balls whilst his onslaught continued unabated.
Bringing his fists together as if in prayer to some deity of fighters, Brad's intentions were not so divine. Slamming them down in unison, they pounded into Tina's exposed crotch. A muffled yelp of pain brought a smile to Brad's face as Tina's body curled into a foetal position, clearly in sheer agony. Lifting his crotch from her face, he looked down between his legs and smiled at Tina, who was simultaneously trying to draw breath and groaning in pain. "Still conscious then?" he observed. "Let's see what we can do about that."
Standing up, Brad dragged Tina to her feet. She had the strength to stand, but to do little else. Right now, the simple (and soon to be essential) act of defending herself was as likely as Tina suddenly learning how to play the piano. A bare foot smacked across her face, knocking her sideways with a dazed "Unnnhh...!" The same foot met her face again, this time knocking her in the other direction. And again to the left. And to the right. Brad was executing roundhouse kick after roundhouse kick, the sole of his right foot hammering Tina's face with the steady rhythm of a metronome, though with the usual 'tick tock' replaced with "Smack! Unnh! Smack! Ummfff!" The crowd began to clap in time with each of Brad's kicks, clapping faster and Brad responding in kind by kicking more rapidly. After one last kick, Brad turned away from Tina's now glassy-eyed, drooling and extremely bruised face. With his back to Tina, he bowed deeply to the crowd. They roared in appreciation as, without rising from the bow, he executed a back heel kick that caught Tina full in the face, momentarily crushing her features into a distorted mess, her mouth twisted, her nose flattened by Brad's unstoppable heel. Tina staggered backwards, steadying herself against the pit wall.
It was time to end it. But that didn't mean Brad wasn't going to make it last as long as possible. Perhaps longer.
Brad moved in with a series of punches to Tina's soft belly, each one causing what little breath remained in her lungs to expel with each "OOOFFF!! WHUUUPPHHHH!!!UUURKKKKKHHH!!!" A vicious left hook sent Tina's head spinning into the path of an equally merciless right hook. Brad repeated the left/right combination three times, smacking Tina around the pit like a piñata. Pausing for a moment, Brad opened and closed his fists, flexing his fingers. The closest thing he had come to any kind of injury in this contest was a slight reddening of his knuckles, a side effect of their repeated and punishing contact with numerous parts of Tina's body.
Deciding to switch things up, Brad returned to a kicking assault. The first, a front snap kick that pierced Tina's gut like a spear. She doubled over instantly, her mouth open in a silent, breathless wheeze. Grasping a handlful of hair in his hand, Brad held Tina in her stooped position and cracked his knee into her face. Her body momentarily slumped on impact, a split second of unconsciousness that unfortunately for Tina, did not last.
Still holding Tina's hair tightly, Brad jerked her upright and delivered another merciless knee strike, directly between her thighs. She emitted a yelped gurgle, the tortured expression on her face painted a clear picture of the pain she was experiencing. And it was picture Brad was keen to keep creating. He released Tina's hair, and took a firm grip of her shoulders before driving another relentless knee strike into her pussy. And another. And another. Her squeals of anguish had now become just a continuous low groan that momentarily increased in pitch with the impact of every vicious knee strike.
The knee strikes soon gave way to another succession of roundhouse kicks, each one impacting on Tina's face with pinpoint precision. The soles of Brad's feet slammed into her cheeks, her face, her nose, her mouth, her chin. Over and over and over, his technique as graceful as a ballet dancer, as powerful as a pro-footballer. Tina felt the impact of every blow, what little capacity she had for rational thought was now only able to process the pain she was in, and the realisation of her humbling defeat. Brad's feet struck again and again, now targeting her entire body indiscriminately. Kick after kick pummelled Tina's broken body as foot met crotch, gut, ribs, breasts, chin, thighs....
Finally, Brad decided it was enough. Not out of any sense of pity or mercy, Brad experienced neither such emotion during a fight. But his now effortless domination of yet another challenger had aroused him to almost bursting point, and it was time to satiate his other carnal desires. A spinning heel kick connected with devastating accuracy against Tina's chin. The impact sent her spinning a full 180 degrees, and by the time she was facing Brad again, his foot was already on route to her head. Brad's sole impacted against Tina's features with an audible crunch and she instantly slumped forwards, landing face first onto the sandy surface of the pit. Unmoving.
The crowd began the somewhat redundant ten count. Each number was followed by a rousing cheer as Brad used his foot to roll Tina onto her back. Her now puffy eyes were closed, her breathing shallow. He placed his foot gently on her face as the count continued. "Seven... Eight... Nine... TEN!!!" The crowd erupted, now seemingly all fans of Brad, such was the hypnotic power of his dominant display. Brad took a final glance at his two beaten opponents and smiled. Maybe next time 2 vs 1 wouldn't be such a bad idea, he mused. Frankly, he needed a challenge!
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