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Tearing a strip off her

By Wolfboy

Bindi is back with Auntie Priya in her corner to take on Jemma in a strip-fight.

‘So, she wants what exactly? Emma asked Jemma as they’d discussed her forthcoming rematch with the Indian fighter Bindi. ‘I mean, I know she wants to fight you again but what are her rules?’

‘She says a strip-fight. Best of 3 falls. No time limit, no punching or kicking the face. Anything else is fair and a five-minute punishment session post-match’ Jemma said. ‘Apparently this strip-fight thing means that at least one of us is ending up naked and we should wear our best lingerie’ Jemma laughed, as she went on ‘which is nice and all, but I don’t exactly do lingerie other than for fighting in. So, best might be a push, I’ll just pick what I look best in I guess!’

‘Sounds like a plan hun’ Emma agreed ‘and you’re OK with the punishment round idea. You realise what could happen in that?’ she asked.

‘I’m fine with it mum, cos I’m going to kick her fat arse again’ Jemma confidently pointed out. ‘What else do you need to know….’ Jemma pondered for a moment. ‘Oh yeah, she wants Karen to referee again if possible because she was fair last time. And if she wins, she wants her wrestling panties back and to take mine from this match. If I win, I get all of Beth’s back for her. And she’s got a second this time, her Auntie Priya from India. Apparently, she’s an Indian wrestling champion…mind you, Bindi is full of shit half the time so who knows!’ Jemma said, her eyebrows raised a little.

‘Well, if you’re OK with the rules, and you understand how it could go Jem, then you can have the ring here. And if her aunt is a wrestling champion, then I’m appointing myself as your corner woman for this one. No questions about it’ Emma told Jemma.

‘That’s cool mum’ Jemma smiled, ‘I was kind of hoping that you’d be in my corner again. I’m close to having something sorted out now though’ she suggested, not offering any further hints on that for now.

‘That’s great hun. One of us will be there for you until you do though, you know that’ she told Jemma.

A week to the day, the two of them were sat in Jemma’s bedroom, preparing for the strip fight, Bindi having arrived with her Aunt Priya and taken up residency in the downstairs guest room. Priya looked a formidable woman I thought. Confident, carrying herself with the bearing of a woman used to having her own way if people didn’t agree with her. But she was also incredibly polite and well spoken; nevertheless, I could feel her and Emma sizing each other up just a little. Enough of that anyway for now, there was a fight at hand here. A fight that would have a small audience too; Beth being invited to watch along with Bindi’s friend and potential tag team partner Gita. Which meant that I would get to watch the action as well, Karen the referee asking me to make sure the two girls remained out of the action other than the occasional bit of verbal encouragement for their friends.

The garage ring area was abuzz with excitement by the time I took my seat in there, between Beth and Gita, both of whom seemed to be enjoying telling the other girl exactly what their friend was going to do to the other fighter. As I listened to their bout of verbal ping-pong, I realised that all we needed really was our two fighters to get things started, and first to enter the garage ring was Jemma with Emma in tow. Fully embracing the strip fight rules, Jemma was wearing a white sleeveless blouse that buttoned at the front and a skater style black mini skirt. Beneath that, I knew that she wore some very impressive looking black and emerald green lingerie; a bra, thong, thin suspender belt at the waist holding up some sheer black stockings. Beth gave Jemma the thumbs up as she kicked off a pair of towering black heels, that I could only assume were Emma’s, and slipped through the ring ropes to lean on the turnbuckles in the corner of the ring that I usually took with her mum. Karen walked over just to check a few details with Jemma before the door opened again and Priya led Bindi to the ring, stopping briefly for Bindi to high five Gita before she too went to her corner. Waiting on the outside for a moment, Bindi smoothed her short brown mini skirt over her legs, she wore an orange blouse, short sleeved, that buttoned up the front. On her legs were black sheer stockings as well, just the hint of an orange suspender belt visible. Now Bindi slipped off her brown high heels too, and spread out her collection of five sets of panties, hanging them on the ring ropes in her corner. The three pairs taken from Beth who shifted uncomfortably at seeing the former contents of her underwear drawer shown off like that. Added to her collection were two pairs of panties from her trip to India, a pair of black cotton boyshorts and an expensive looking pink and gold thong. A look of confusion registered briefly on Jemma’s face at that sight, but then it was time for business.

‘Ladies, you’re both here for a strip fight scheduled for the best of 3 submissions. There is no time limit and as the name suggests, you may strip off your opponent’s clothes while you are fighting. Punching and kicking to the head is not allowed, all other catfight moved are legal. You have both agreed that neither may submit to an attack that I deem to be erotic in nature. You both also agree to a five minute, anything goes, punishment session at the end of the match. Is that correct?’ she asked both young women, who nodded, Bindi taking that opportunity to lay out a pink strap-on underneath the turnbuckles in her corner.

Karen moved on ‘ladies, I also suggest that you agree that discarded clothing can be used as a weapon. Experience of these types of matches shows me it will happen and it’s better that you both agree to it up front’ she told the two teenage fighters who both agreed on that point. ‘OK then, our two fighters. First on my right is Miss Bindi Patel. Bindi is 19 years old. She stands 5 feet 6 inches tall, weighs in at 138lbs and measures 34C-26-25. She has a record of 3 wins and 2 defeats’ Karen said as Jemma smiled a little, knowing that she accounted for one of those two defeats for Bindi. ‘And on my left is Miss Jemma Baines. Jemma is 18 years old. She stands 5 feet 7 inches tall, weighs 147lbs and measures 36D-23-26. She has a record of 4 wins without defeat.’ Karen finished, Bindi smiling now, perhaps at the thought she could inflict a first defeat. So far in fact, Jemma hadn’t been forced to submit even. There was no getting away from the fact that would happen eventually; how she reacted to it would then be the key. Now in their respective corners, both young ladies shifted anxiously, ready to get at each other, Bindi easing her mini skirt that little higher to ensure that it rode on her upper thighs for added mobility. Then Karen yelled ‘fight!’ and the action was underway.

Their first fight had opened with Jemma a little cautious and taking some early punishment from Bindi. Today, both started slowly, eyeing each other a little warily as they circled. ‘Nice clothes’ Bindi sneered at Jemma, going on ‘if you were going for the cheap whore look. I’m going to enjoy wrecking them’

‘You would know how to dress like a whore, bitch!’ Jemma shot back before swinging a wild slap to catch Bindi on the thigh. Less effective when the fighters wore more clothes of course, not that it stopped Bindi from firing back in kind, Jemma’s skirt absorbing part of the blow this time. Then both lunged for the hair with one hand and slapped to the body with the other hand, each locked together in a fierce hair pulling contest too. Bindi ragged Jemma’s head side to side for a second, Jemma responded by pushing Bindi’s head back by the hair and forcing her back to the corner. Leaning in now, she got a hard punch into Bindi’s stomach and had a bit of a pull at her orange blouse, sending a couple of buttons flying before Bindi got a hand in her face. That allowed Bindi to force a momentary separation, and she used it well, sending a kick into Jemma’s body which forced Jemma further on to the back foot. Now Bindi came for her, wading in as she swung slaps to the upper body and the face, Jemma having to eat a couple as she found herself backed into the walled section now. There, Bindi used her wrestling skills for the first time; she took Jemma into a rough headlock, using the hair to secure it before immediately sending Jemma up and over her hip to the mat.

On the floor at Bindi’s feet wasn’t the best position to be, but as the Indian girl aimed a kick at her, Jemma grabbed her foot and tipped Bindi to the mat as well. Both tried to get to their knees, kind of lunging for each other as they were back into the hair, bodies pressed together as Bindi quickly tried to shoot a hand up Jemma’s skirt for a crotch hold. Jemma shot her hips back to avoid it, but Bindi wisely switched her grip now, hand behind Jemma’s head and was able to force her, face first, down to the mat. A chance for Bindi to attack, pulling the hem of Jemma’s flared mini skirt up and spanking her backside before she trapped her head between her thighs, and rolled Jemma to her side, then to her back, trapped in a side head scissors. Jemma moaned as Bindi showed the power in her thighs, straightening her legs and crossing her ankles to put some early pressure on Jemma. Squeezing her head hard, Bindi grabbed a good handful of red hair with one hand, slapping the breasts through her white blouse for a moment before she thought better of it, instead starting to pull at the blouse. As Jemma stung Bindi’s thighs with some slaps, the Indian girl started to pull on Jemma’s blouse instead, pulling it apart, one button at a time, a wrenching movement sending those buttons flying. Five buttons gone, she was able to snake a hand inside the blouse easily now for a breast maul before Jemma grabbed her feet, twisting at them to get free from the scissor hold. Jemma scrambled away, her blouse now short of five buttons, just two buttons staying in place from her belly button downwards.

‘You bitch!’ she spat at Bindi as the Indian girl got upright too, three buttons gone from the orange blouse that still held on in place better than Jemma’s for now.

‘Fuck off, tramp!’ Bindi sneered in reply ‘look at your blouse, flashing everyone your tits as usual!’ she taunted, trying to get inside Jemma’s head. She laughed it off for now and as the two women came together again, Jemma got the edge this time, a knee lift catching Bindi in the stomach. A second knee lift, this time up into those firm tits of the Indian sent her to the mat on her back and Jemma immediately dived in with a splash, across Bindi’s belly. Bindi moaned but wisely got her hand straight into Jemma’s red hair, pulling hard as she tried to stop her from completing a cross pin. It was successful and both young ladies took the attacks that were available to them. Jemma tried to clamp a hand over Bindi’s nose and mouth, and thought about a crotch claw only to be thwarted by Bindi’s more fitted skirt. Bindi had no such issues, her hands easily able to get beneath Jemma’s flared skirt, and while she couldn’t quite manage to complete a crotch attack, she pawed and mauled at Jemma’s backside. ‘Get your hands off my arse bitch!’ Jemma complained as she started to pull Bindi’s blouse apart from the bottom. ‘They’ll be all over it later on slag, get used to it!’ Bindi shot back, managing to swing up a knee to catch Jemma in the shoulder and knock her a bit off balance. Now Bindi’s handful of hair came in to play as she was able to use it to control Jemma as she escaped from beneath her, squirming out before snaking her legs around Jemma’s body, just in below the breasts.

Again, she squeezed hard, causing Jemma to moan and it looked obvious to me that Bindi had gained some extra leg power from her time in India. Still, Jemma was unlikely to be undone by a simple body scissor, and she started to slap Bindi’s face before having another hard pull at her blouse, succeeding in pulling the front completely open now. ‘You call me a tramp!’ Jemma laughed immediately, having revealed Bindi to be essentially topless as she wore just a quarter cup bra in a bright orange colour. ‘And you’re lying here with your tits hanging out!’ she said, reaching to tweak her nipples as Bindi winced and tried to defend. A dismissive slap to the right breast set it rocking for a moment as Jemma continued to taunt now ‘come on you tart, what are you going to do?’ she enquired, sinking her fingers into the right breast now. ‘Aaaaggghhhhh! You cow!’ Bindi complained, but she started to pull at the blouse that Jemma was just about still wearing, managing to pull the last two buttons apart and she released her scissor hold, kicking Jemma away as she did to prevent any further attacks to her breasts for now.

Jemma rolled away to her feet, Bindi scrambled to hers, and after 5 minutes of catfighting, the primary casualties had been 14 buttons, 7 on each girl’s blouse to leave both wearing fully open blouses. Bindi’s breasts were on show too now, and Jemma looked to go after the obvious target, delivering a stinging slap to the top of her right breasts. Bindi took it, a flicker of pain registering in her eyes as she replied, slapping Jemma’s face hard, her palm warming the skin there. Behind that distraction, Bindi rushed in, trying to force Jemma into the corner of the ring, but Jemma showed her awareness of the surroundings and spun Bindi into the corner instead. Quickly, she had Bindi’s arm wrapped around the top rope as she swung another singing slap into her breasts. If she thought she was getting on top though, Bindi was having none of it, delivering a knee to the stomach, and then she grabbed Jemma’s left breast, four fingers in the underside of it while she dug her thumb down in to the breast from above. Jemma groaned loudly, then shrieked a little as she felt the pain from that effective grip which she broke away from quickly with a fierce right hand to the body that put Bindi down to a knee. A knee between those bare breasts completed the job of putting Bindi on to her back and Jemma looked to attack again straight away.

Taking up a position sat astride Bindi, with a hand in the Indian girl’s hair, Jemma looked like a dominant catfighter at the moment. Bindi had plenty of fight in her just yet though it seemed, forcing Jemma’s blouse aside to sting her across the belly with a couple of slaps, the sound of which filled the garage. Jemma grunted, took it, and fought for control of Bindi’s arms, hoping to pin them flat to the mat above her head. Bindi fought that but then her eyes went wide with surprise as Jemma straight up choked her for a moment, left hand at her throat while her right latched on to her left nipple. Bindi squealed as Jemma twisted hard for a moment, possibly including her thumb nail in the mix; it seemed to be the distraction she needed as Jemma hitched her skirt up and sprang forward, pushing Bindi’s hands to the mat as she knelt on them, but Bindi squirmed and Jemma failed to complete the face sit. She did find Bindi on her front between her knees though and she wrenched her head to the side by that long brunette hair and slapped her presented cheek a couple of times. Jemma then tried to get her arm around Bindi’s throat, but the Indian girl defended wisely, keeping her chin tucked in tight. Frustrated, Jemma took the only option she could think of, puling off Bindi’s orange blouse, and throwing it from the ring so it wasn’t a viable weapon, she made Bindi shriek as her relatively short nails scratched at her back.

‘You dirty cow!’ Bindi protested, Jemma pulling her to her feet and ignoring her as she Irish Whipped Bindi into the opposite corner of the ring to her own corner. She sauntered into the corner now and paid for her casual approach, Bindi flashing her fingers across Jemma’s eyes to startle her, and a handful of hair saw her able to slam her face into the top turnbuckle. As Jemma leaned chest first, a little dazed against the corner, Bindi took the chance to do a bit of stripping of her own. Not going after the already open blouse that Jemma wore though, instead she quickly unfastened Jemma’s skirt, whipping it down so that it pooled up on the mat at her feet. ‘Nice panties bitch’ Bindi commented out loud, smacking her hand across Jemma’s arse as she did so. ‘They’ll look great in my collection’ she smirked setting Jemma up for an Irish Whip back into her own corner of the ring where her Auntie Priya sat watching impassively. She delivered the move with authority too she felt, Jemma arching her back and groaning on impact. When Bindi ran across the ring and launched herself at Jemma for the avalanche splash though, the redhead was no longer there having dodged clear, and Bindi hit the turnbuckles chest first. She was winded, in some trouble, and if there was one thing we’d learned yet it was that Jemma loved a smother to finish off a girl who was struggling for air!

Here she took her time though, first delivering a big forearm across Bindi’s shoulders to crush her into the turnbuckles chest first. She grabbed at Bindi’s right leg too, tearing her sheer black stocking before she took the Indian girl out of the corner by the hair back towards the centre of the ring, and a big body slam, delivered with some impressive power to put Bindi flat on her back. Then she dropped on her, a butt drop landing pretty well right on those firm C cup tits to take the air out of her. A simple move then to take up one of her favoured positions, the reverse face sit, that grinding action as she rolled her hips, grinding her ass and pussy on Bindi’s face, immediately proving successful in troubling the Indian teen. ‘Submit bitch?’ Jemma asked as she leaned forward now to unfasten Bindi’s skirt, riding her face expertly as she looked to force the opening submission.

Bindi kicked her feet into the mat, trying to find purchase to bridge and push Jemma off her as she replied ‘no!’ to Jemma’s request. The reverse face sit meant that Jemma had a free range of body parts to attack though and she chose to combine a stomach claw with her face sit here. Now Bindi whined, moaning in pain and in trouble as Jemma twisted at her stomach, punishing her effectively as Bindi was driven closer to submission.

As Jemma continued to grind on her, Bindi moaned ‘bitch, I can’t breathe!!’ That earned her a rebuke with a right hand to the stomach and then the stomach claw was back on, the draining face sit still in place, the submission inevitable, dragged out of Bindi as she tapped at the mat and Karen ordered the break. It would be a three-minute break, something that neither fighter, breathing hard, or their respective corner women looked too disappointed about I thought. It had taken 11 minutes of fighting for one submission, 11 minutes that was pretty much the length of Jemma’s longest fight to date. While she was a fit girl, the talk was that Bindi had gone over 20 minutes in one of her fights in India. Could stamina come in to play later on here?

‘Good job so far’ Emma told her daughter who threw her own blouse from the ring now, declaring it to have been a pain in the arse to fight in! ‘Take some deep breaths now’ she advised ‘remember, you’re going to have to pace yourself Jem, it could be a long fight still.’

‘I guess’ Jemma said ‘Bindi is still pretty tough though if I can get my arse on her face again, I could finish her off’ Jemma suggested.

‘True’ Emma admitted, but cautioned ‘but take your time. Set her up properly for it before you got for it.’

Across the ring, Bindi appeared to be getting plenty of advice too from her pretty animated looking aunt who first told her ‘lose the fucking skirt Bindi. Nobody can fight properly in those things!’ As Bindi did as her aunt suggested, removing the brown mini skirt and putting it out of the ring, Priya continued to offer sage advice. ‘Remember what you learned in the akhaara Bindi. Remember how pleasure can lead to greater pain. She is a tough bitch’ Priya continued ‘she can fight, I give her that. So, don’t meet her head on. Play her at your game Bindi. She can’t handle your crotch work; I saw how she shied away from it early on there. She put herself in trouble rather than allow you to take hold of her!’ Priya instructed.

Now it was Karen who was instructing them both ‘get ready ladies, 15 seconds’ before, as both got to their feet, she said ‘fight!’

If stamina was going to be an issue, both fighters didn’t seem to be that concerned in the opening moments of the second fall. Down to their lingerie now, essentially topless in Bindi’s case due to her interesting choice of bra, each got their left hand in to the other’s hair, wrapped their fingers in strands of silky brunette and red hair, pulling hard. With their right hands, there was a fierce battle of slapping, stinging every part of exposed skin they could reach. In the corners, both seconds looked on aghast; Emma had told Jemma to pace herself while Priya had told Bindi not to fight Jemma head on. For thirty seconds of fierce slapping and hair pulling, it appeared the neither had been listening all that much. While Bindi hit hard enough, it was pretty evident that Jemma hit that little bit harder, corralling Bindi back into her own corner. There she slapped her in the face, punched her in the breasts and then planted a foot in her belly, falling back to try and monkey flip her to the mat. Now Bindi showed good ring awareness by grabbing the top rope to hold herself in the corner as Jemma fell off her and landed hard on the mat. At Bindi’s feet too and this time there was nothing in the rules to stop her from giving Jemma a soccer kick in the gut. A crushing, winding blow for her to take so early in the second round and as she rolled across the mat gasping for breath, Bindi smiled, confident that she had the control she needed now to step up her attacks.

Or perhaps more accurately, to take them in the direction Auntie Priya had suggested. That was her first move anyway, bringing Jemma into a seated position as she applied a half nelson and rear body scissor. Neither hold too tight, controlling rather than punishing even with the hand wrapped in Jemma’s hair, and then she reached round to tweak her nipples and fondle her breasts inside her bra. Lightly, playfully, certainly erotically but with an occasional extra squeeze or slap just to make sure that Jemma knew all about it. She kissed Jemma’s neck lightly, got her feet back into Jemma’s crotch just to make sure she felt them against her womanhood. Then deftly, Bindi unclasped Jemma’s bra with one hand before stopping to lightly graze her lips across the nape of her neck once more. It was a confusing attack for Jemma who was just starting to catch her breath as Bindi delivered a fierce forearm across her shoulders. In an instant, Bindi had arms hooked beneath her armpits, rocking back to deliver a keister bounce, using the mats to deliver a jarring blow as Jemma’s butt slammed into them.

Jemma moaned and immediately found herself rolled by Bindi who ended up on her front, Jemma still trapped between her legs as the Indian girl put her hands to the mat, pushed up and turned on the leg power. That drew a cry of pain from Jemma, the scissor hold well applied around the short rib, and the look on her face suggested that she was definitely feeling it from the well applied hold. But she had an answer in her fighting repertoire, grabbing Bindi’s feet as she had them crossed in front of her, and she twisted them cruelly to force a break in the hold. Unfastened, Jemma’s bra was hanging on gamely as she rolled clear. Bindi rolled away too and got to her feet, flexing her toes for a moment to check all was well before she approached Jemma in a low wrestler’s crouch. Jemma slapped for the face but Bindi dived for her legs, grabbing both ankles and tipping Jemma to the mat. She may have landed seated, but Bindi delivered an elbow right to her D cup breasts to flatten her and Jemma was back in some trouble.

In that position, flat out, she was in a poor place to defend against Bindi, who shifted into place between Jemma’s legs, knees pushed into the inside of her thighs to spread her. Her hands ran sensually across Jemma’s body now, sliding up her stomach slowly to her breasts where the pushed her black and emerald green bra up, above the breasts to reveal them fully to Bindi. ‘Oh, my Jemma, what lovely titties you have’ Bindi cooed, reaching to playfully pinch and slap at each breast for a moment. Jemma squirmed beneath her tough as I felt Beth shifting a little uncomfortably next to me as well. Now Bindi’s hands moved south, stopping to trace patterns around Jemma’s belly button lightly with her fingers. She dipped her head forward to kiss Jemma’s stomach now, maybe her teeth just nipping lightly at her body too as Jemma let out a groan that was somewhere between pleasure, pain and frustration. Bindi wasn’t done yet either, her tongue now continuing the journey south to the waistband of Jemma’s thong, kissing her again there. Jemma tried to sit up, looking to fight the Indian girl off now, but a quick double handed shove to the breasts knocked her flat again. Bindi shifted forward a little more, her knees pressing into Jemma’s thighs just that little bit more, spreading her wider, and leaving her wide open for an attack to the crotch. One that Bindi set up slowly at first, simply resting the flat of her hand lightly on the front of Jemma’s thong, letting her anticipate what was to come perhaps.

Just that touch alone saw Jemma moan with concern, knowing what was likely to be coming next. Bindi still took her time, left hand moving to fondle Jemma’s breasts again as she seemed to be taking the match firmly down the pleasure route. It was an approach that troubled most inexperienced catfighters when a woman used a mix of styles, usually with the kicker of a painful ending. As Bindi’s fingers now worked their way inside Jemma’s thong, there was a little whimper from my daughter, feeling her womanhood violated for the first time in the match by Bindi. ‘Good Bindi, good!’ Priya opined from the corner, pleased her niece had taken control of this fall in the exact style she had prescribed. Jemma moaned again as the Indian teen slowly finger fucked her on the mat now; she knew she had to try and fight back, try and turn it back to a fight in fact. I wasn’t sure she could from this position as Bindi also started to claw at her right breast now, the classic pain and pleasure paradox in one; Bindi’s sensual attentions now heightening the pain Jemma felt from the breast claw.

‘Mmmmmm……she is wet now’ Bindi remarked, looking pointedly in Beth’s direction as her finger fucking drove Jemma in a direction that she couldn’t afford to allow. She groaned again, gritting her teeth as the combination of pleasure and pain threatened to overwhelm her early in fall two. As it was, it was probably Bindi’s focus on pleasuring her that saved Jemma; the Indian girl continuing to finger her but failing to notice that Jemma had been able to spread her legs wider than Bindi had been spreading them. In one quick move, that flexibility came home to help Jemma as she shifted her legs up and snapped them shut around Bindi’s head. There was no panic from the Indian girl though at suddenly having a face full of Jemma’s pussy. While Jemma flexed her strong legs around her, causing a sudden cry of pain from Bindi, things looked promising for Jemma. Of course, though, the Indian girl had a plan to escape and Jemma’s scissor hold went to pieces quickly as Bindi shifted her thong aside and starting to play with her butt. It was a thumb to her butt hole that caused a sudden shudder to run through her body. Quick as a cat at that point, Bindi slammed a double fisted blow down in to Jemma’s stomach and the scissors was broken.

Bindi was back on top too as she decided to force Jemma back to her feet with a handful of red hair, forcing Jemma’s bra from her body as she did so. A right hand to the left breast was a cruel shot drawing a pained cry of protest from Jemma and rocked by that, she was easily corralled back in to her own corner of the ring, in front of Emma. Bindi spread her arms along the top ropes now and delivered a stinging slap to her breasts. Jemma groaned, trying to bring her arms in to cover herself but Bindi sapped her with a right hand crashing in on the waistband of her thong. She leaned in, planting the most fleeting of kisses on Jemma’s lips just to ensure her continued confusion. Then she delivered a second stinging slap to the breasts, starting to slowly work Jemma over in her own corner. Jemma tried to get her arms back off the ropes to defend, maybe even to counter attack, but Bindi was all over her at the moment. Leaning in to ensure firm body to body contact, Bindi dipped her head, taking Jemma’s right nipple in her mouth, tongue flicking at it as she soon felt Jemma’s nipple stiffen to her attentions. At the same time, her right hand reached for Jemma’s thong, pulling it upwards into a wedgie, the fabric cutting in to her pussy as Bindi’s hand reached her belly button. Jemma shrieked, then Bindi bit down, lightly enough on her nipple, but the effect was as if someone had sent an electric shock through her body. ‘Naughty girl¬’ Bindi chided, pretty sure that in that instant, she had forced a first in-ring orgasm on Jemma. She may well have done, but as Bindi moved back in for a mouthful of breast again, she was taken aback to find herself pulled deep into a standing breast smother as Jemma got an arm around her head.

It looked like Jemma had managed to turn the tables on the Indian fighter at a key time, Bindi immediately releasing her grip on Jemma’s thong, but she balled her fist up, slamming it twice to the stomach and then to the crotch, and Jemma sagged back against the turnbuckles, the fight possibly beaten out of her for this fall. Bindi certainly thought so it seemed, spinning her around for a quick face full of turnbuckle then leading her to the centre of the ring by the hair. There, a hand between the legs allowed her to lift Jemma, showing good strength before delivering an across the knee back breaker. Jemma squealed out in pain from that move and Bindi shoved her from her knee to the mat now with a satisfied look on her face. Jemma clutched her side, a pained look on her face, and she found herself well and truly trapped by Bindi now as the Indian girl applied a spladle pin, spreading Jemma’s legs wide as she settled into position behind her. The move itself was probably enough to force most girls in to submission, and as flexible as she was, I felt that Jemma could only take so much of it. Then Bindi pussy whipped her, a series of short sharp slaps crashing in to her womanhood in quick succession that had her howling in pain.

‘Aaaaaggghhh! Bindi…. No!’ Jemma protested helplessly now.

‘What?’ the Indian girl asked in reply ‘do you submit you ginger whore?’ she enquired.

‘No, I……. Aaaaaggghhh!’ Jemma cried out, trying to deny the submission only to find Bindi going for the crotch claw now, fingers inside the thong to punish Jemma. ‘Owwww! Fuck! I submit!!’ Jemma cried out, Bindi patting her cheek condescendingly as she did so. The hold was released soon enough although Bindi did tear the thong from Jemma’s body before she headed back to her corner now to get her game plan together for the final round. Jemma hobbled a little, head bowed slightly, as she also headed back to her corner to try and regroup from the effects of the punishing submission hold in the three-minute break. There had been nearly 20 minutes of fighting and coupled with the effect of Jemma having conceded her first ever submission to the unorthodox tactics of the Indian fighter, I wondered if she could come back strongly in fall three. She was stripped of her lingerie too, apart from her suspender belt and stockings, her neat landing strip of flame red pubic hair now a very legitimate target for Bindi, along with anything else the Indian teen may have planned for her.

Emma was quickly into Jemma’s ear as she got back to her corner ‘don’t sit for a minute Jem, stretch those legs out, she had you well spread there!’ Emma advised.

‘Mum, I don’t think they need too much more stretching, trust me’ Jemma smiled, a little weakly, despite having conceded the submission, and then she added a little conspiratorially, ‘mum, the little bitch made me cum!’

‘I know baby’ Emma told her ‘I thought that she had. She tried hard enough to do it anyway!’

‘I find it really hard to fight when she’s doing all that stuff mum’ Jemma admitted ‘it’s like I know I should be fighting but my instincts are totally scrambled by her’ she told Emma.

‘Well that is kind of the aim of it’ Emma admitted. ‘I’ve had it done to me before and I’ve even used it occasionally. I think the only answer really is to go straight on the attack as soon as she goes for something like that. If she gets you past a certain point, it doesn’t matter who you are, it’s tough to fight it then!’ Emma advised her.

Across the ring, Priya was praising the work of Bindi in the second round. ‘Very good Bindi. You used your unique tactics there to throw her off her game. See how there is confusion in her face now, she doesn’t know whether to fight you or fuck you now!’ Priya laughed as she massaged her niece’s shoulders. She still cautioned Bindi though ‘you have to be careful still though Bindi. She may be off her game at the moment, but she is tough and she can fight, I admit that. For a western whore, she is not a bad fighter’ Priya admitted.

‘She is besotted with that blonde bimbo over there’ Bindi said, angling her head to indicate Beth sat at ringside. ‘Although she doesn’t seem to want to admit it just yet’ she added.

‘Oh?! Why didn’t you say so Bindi?’ Priya chuckled now ‘you simply have to use that against her. Punish her in front of the one she loves Bindi!!’ she demanded as the break before the final round neared its end. ‘Trap her in the ropes if you can Bindi so that she is looking at the blondie. Make them lock eyes, make them see the anguish in each other’s eyes.’ Priya suggested as Karen called for the start of round three. The final round of the contest for domination between the two teenagers who had already fought hard to reach this point. Perhaps Bindi held the edge now, at least psychologically as both young ladies circled at the start of the final fall. In the amount of clothing still intact, Bindi certainly held the edge; she was topless by design but her orange quarter cup bra remained untouched, her orange panties and suspender belt too were in good condition. Only one of her stockings had sustained any damage, torn earlier in the first round by Jemma. Bindi struck quickly with a slap to Jemma’s naked ass, her thong torn off by Bindi, her bra gone too, she was down to just stockings and suspenders now. She wasn’t exactly bashful about it though, countering quickly as Bindi looked to slap her ass again, and she ran the Indian girl to the ropes. A knee to the belly struck home and then Jemma Irish Whipped Bindi across the ring, setting herself to clothesline Bindi to the mat as she rebounded towards centre ring.

A strong start, perhaps an attempt to finish Bindi off quickly with that five-minute punishment session weighing heavily on her mind. She went to immediately peel Bindi off the mat, taking a right hand to the body, but shrugging it off as she looked to lift the Indian girl for a slam perhaps. Bindi was too fresh at the start of the round though for that to prove effective, and she escaped, squirming over Jemma’s shoulder to land behind her. On her feet too, immediately dangerous for Jemma as a front kick to the butt sent her stumbling to the ropes on her knees. Bindi couldn’t believe her luck, the chance presented almost immediately to punish Jemma in front of Beth at ringside and she set about it with great enthusiasm. It took a handful of hair to get Jemma positioned, throat across the middle rope. Then Bindi got into position, effectively straddling Jemma’s back and using her body to press the choke right there in front of Beth. Gita too, who cried out in delight ‘get her Bindi!’ as the Indian teenager grabbed the middle rope to now add to the choke.

‘Look at her blondie!’ Bindi taunted ‘your little tough girl…almost naked, almost beaten’ she mocked as Beth shifted uncomfortably in her chair. ‘Come on Jem!’ Beth implored as she locked eyes with Jemma on the ropes who looked to be fading a little already. ‘Don’t let her bully you like this!’ she encouraged and Jemma suddenly had a look of determination set in her eyes, swiping two elbows back into Bindi’s side and forcing the break as the Indian girl clutched her side for a moment. Jemma forced herself off the ropes, turning as she did to face Bindi who tried to subdue her again with a kick to the stomach. This time, Jemma was ready, batting the leg aside and going after Bindi with a flurry of fierce slaps to the body and head, forcing her back to the walled part of the ring. It was quite the burst of activity but at what cost as Jemma, having beaten Bindi down to a seated position against the wall, breathing hard, immediately took a sneaky uppercut to the crotch from the Indian, delivered with a wry grin. Jemma dropped to her knees in front of Bindi who delivered a fierce forearm smash to the chest, rocking the redhead back on her haunches a little. Jemma rebounded using the same move to rock Bindi then both lunged for each other, grabbing hair as Jemma knocked Bindi into the wall, but found herself trapped, her right thigh between Bindi’s legs.

‘Oh dear’ Bindi laughed ‘what a predicament’ as Jemma tried to free her leg from between hers. In a stressed position, Jemma’s stomach made a nice target for her to deliver three hard punches to, the effects increased by the awkward position. Jemma slumped forward, perhaps hoping to somehow pin Bindi down and stop the attacks. Instead, she inadvertently put her head under Bindi’s arm and invited the Indian teenager to wrap her in a tight front head lock, her forehead pressed to the mat. Bindi wanted to her the body scissors now, rather than have Jemma’s thigh scissored, perhaps knowing that adding that to the mix could spell trouble for her red-headed rival. It was a mistake she would regret though, Jemma striking the moment that Bindi released her leg with a knee to the pussy. Bindi yelped, releasing her holds as she tried to block out the pain from that blow, and Jemma pretty much crawled her way up Bindi’s body, maybe looking for the face sit that could force Bindi into submission. At the last second though, Bindi regathered her senses, trapping Jemma’s right ankle between her thighs as she stung Jemma’s cheek with a slap as she stopped her progress towards pinning her. Jemma immediately grabbed for a double nipple twist, her position on top giving her good leverage and forcing Bindi to shriek in some pain. Again, the fight seemed to hang in the balance as Bindi reached up to claw Jemma’s D cups hanging above her body, both girls now moaning with pain from the attentions of the other.

‘What’s the matter Bindi?’ Jemma asked as Bindi let out a high-pitched whine of pain. ‘Little tits can’t take it huh bitch?’ she mocked, trying to pour the pressure on.

‘Fuck you, ginger whore!’ Bindi spat in reply, digging her fingers in and twisting Jemma’s breasts in return, ‘it’s your big fat udders that can’t take it!’ she retorted. Then she struck quickly, breaking her double claw and punishing Jemma with a cruel straight fingered thrust to the underside of her right breast and Jemma rolled off her, clutching her breast and moaning in pain. ‘As I thought’ Bindi mocked as she waited for Jemma to roll to her front before delivering an elbow drop across the back of the head, making sure to keep her dazed and down on the mat. Now Bindi went into a stripping frenzy, tearing at Jemma’s sheer stockings, ripping them down her legs as Jemma was stuck face down on the mats, Bindi’s knee in her lower back, shrieking indignantly at her treatment here. Incongruously, by the time Bindi had finished, both of Jemma’s stockings were at her ankles, the garters of her suspender largely redundant except for one still holding a two-inch square scrap of nylon against the back of her thigh.

Bindi felt dominant, but she hadn’t caused any physical damage with the stripping, and she paid for a casual attempt to pull Jemma up with one hand in her hair. Jemma shrugged her off, caught her with a lunging headbutt to the stomach, right on the waistband, and knocked Bindi to her butt in the centre of the ring. Jemma knew by now she was running low on energy; her body was sore from Bindi’s attentions; she just hoped that the Indian girl was feeling the pace too. Either way, she was damn sure she was going to get Bindi’s bright orange panties off; the bitch had exposed her early and payback was only fair. She dived at Bindi, knocking her flat to the mat and she took a cross pin and an immediate grip of the waistband of Bindi’s panties. She pulled them into an immediate, deep wedgie, the fabric cutting into the Indian fighter’s crotch and ass as she let out a blood curdling howl of pain. She was determined to resist the attack, inwardly cursing the sturdiness of her choice of lingerie which was now causing her excruciating agony as she hoped to hear the sound of tearing fabric. So frankly did Jemma, throwing all of her energy into tearing those panties off, and not finding it so easy as she had hoped at all.

Bindi yelled again as Jemma wondered if this could force the submission, her hand going past Bindi’s belly button and the panties showing no immediate sign of starting to tear. ‘Submit if you don’t like it Bindi!’ Jemma advised as Beth next to me cheered her on ‘that’s it Jem, pull it right up in her cunt!’

At the other side of me, Gita told Beth ‘you shut up bitch or I’ll put you in your place too!’ As Beth laughed at her, replying ‘ooooooohhhhh……scared’, Gita yelled out ‘stop her Bindi, come on!’

Karen cast a quick glance in my direction just to check that the two girls on the outside were still under control and then, probably to the relief of both fighters, but especially Bindi, the sound of ripping panties filled the garage for a moment. Jemma proudly clutched them in her hand, throwing them from the ring and now we had a battle to the finish between two essentially naked fighters. A battle that Jemma wanted to take control of as she pulled Bindi from the mat, using a good grip of her thick bush, and then Irish Whipped her into the corner of the ring. She had Bindi opposite her own corner and looked to have the intent to whip the Indian girl back to her own corner I thought. A bit telegraphed though, and Bindi reversed, sending Jemma in hard instead. Remembering her earlier error, Bindi approached far more cautiously now and she almost paid the price as Jemma levered herself up using the top ropes and tried to snap her legs shut in a front head scissor. She got them up on to Bindi’s shoulders too, but then the Indian girl stopped her dead with a cruel double fisted blow to the pit of the stomach. That was a hard blow to take late in the contest, sapping Jemma of vital reserves of energy and oxygen, and Bindi took advantage to push her legs over the top rope and force Jemma to the outside of the ring. Now Bindi grabbed Jemma’s chin with her left hand using that grip to pull Jemma into the top rope, bent back a little, her breasts presented for a big forearm shot the dropped her almost to her knees. Only a grip of the top rope help Jemma, groaning in pain from the shot to the breasts, upright for now. Then Bindi was in her hair, pulling her further along the outside of the ring. Then there was a cry of protest from Jemma who found her arms tied up between the top and middle ropes as Bindi deftly pulled on the ropes, there on the outside of the ring, looking directly at Beth who had concern written large across her face.

Bindi slipped through the ropes too now, taking care to stand just clear of Jemma’s flailing legs, almost allowing that redhead temper to burn itself out as she addressed Beth. ‘She looks so cute all tied up Beth’ Bindi laughed ‘you should try it. I mean she’d have to let you of course, you’re such a pussy. You could never get her in this position yourself blondie!’ Bindi mocked.

‘I’ll fucking destroy you!’ Beth shouted, finally stirring from her seat and looking to go after the Indian girl. ‘Beth’ I cautioned, a hand on her arm ‘sit back down, you can’t get involved here, this is between the two of them.’

‘That’s right blondie’ Beth laughed as she raked a kick into Jemma’s stomach from the side now. ‘You sit down before I sit you down bitch!’ she sneered, a second hard kick landing with Jemma still tied up in the ropes, clearly in a world of pain and trouble now. ‘Come on Jem!’ Beth called out, her voice a little wispy now, lacking the confidence that Jemma could mount a comeback. ‘Fight the bitch!’ she implored, but in truth, when you’re tied up in the ropes getting kicked in the stomach, there’s not too much fighting back you can do! There was something of a forlorn look in her eyes now as Bindi delivered a fourth raking kick and finally untied Jemma from the ropes. She was almost like putty in the Indian girl’s hands now as she used a handful of hair to throw Jemma back into the ring between top and middle ropes, Jemma falling to the mat. Bindi followed her in, one last look at Beth who was still furious on the outside at not being able to do anything help Jemma. Bindi lifted Jemma quickly now, an imperious body slam at the centre of the ring showing her dominance, smiling as she stood over Jemma, feeling sure she had the match in her grasp. A snap leg drop across the shoulders after Jemma had rolled to her front was enough to keep Jemma down, just in case.

‘You can have her soon blondie’ Bindi remarked casually in Beth’s direction now ‘but I’m going to have her first’ she announced.

‘Finish the bitch off Bindi!’ Gita shouted from the outside. ‘She’s done, make her yours’ she encouraged.

‘Shut it bitch!’ Beth threatened Gita, the tempers threatening to spill over on the outside as well as the match neared its climax.

Bindi had moved to straddle Jemma’s back now, keeping her weight positioned more to the right-hand side and high up her body. Jemma was flat out, but Bindi had a remedy for that with a strong handful of red hair, using that to pull her face and her chest well clear of the mat, her back painfully arched. Jemma groaned loudly, the effort of resisting this mauling from Bindi almost too much for her now. Then Bindi grabbed her chin, turning it towards her, and as she sunk her fingers deep into Jemma’s right breast, she leaned in to kiss her fully on the lips, her tongue thrust deep inside Jemma’s mouth, choking off her cries of pain. All that could be heard were the faintest whimpers as Bindi worked her thoroughly. Karen was taking a close interest in the action now as Jemma tried desperately to make a grab for Bindi’s hair. She fell short, but that grab moved Bindi away from kissing her for a moment, still cruelly, nastily mauling her breast, and Jemma had no choice but to the tap out on the mat to admit her defeat. It had taken almost thirty minutes of nasty and sexy fighting but Bindi had subdued her and Jemma had tasted defeat for the first time.

And there was worse to come for her too. ‘Bindi wins by two submissions to one’ Karen announced ‘five-minute punishment round starts now’ she continued, allowing Bindi to continue her work, planting another kiss on Jemma who she told to ‘wait there bitch!’ as she headed to her own corner to get that pink strap-on. It took her about a minute of the punishment round to get the strap-on properly put on, but then she returned to the mat for Jemma, also carrying what was left of one of Jemma’s own stockings with her.

‘Now you little bitch’ Bindi told her matter of factly, ‘I’m going to fuck you like the little whore you are!’

The Indian girl quickly lead Jemma towards the corner of the ring in which Emma sat, but putting Jemma’s upper body between the middle and top ropes, she positioned Jemma very much looking straight at Beth. A slap cracked across Jemma’s butt cheeks before Bindi pawed and mauled her ass for a moment like she had paid for it. The she entered Jemma from behind with the strap on, both hands on her hips as she started to thrust the strap-on deeper inside her. Despite herself, Jemma couldn’t help but moan a little in response to Bindi’s attentions. The Indian girl now had one hand pulling at Jemma’s hair, making sure she couldn’t take her eyes away from Beth who tried her best to give Jemma a supportive look. It seemed to me as Bindi told Jemma ‘I didn’t think you liked big cocks, but it seems like you actually enjoy it you dirty whore’ that the in-ring action was hurting Beth almost as much as Jemma. Still in the ropes, Jemma was now starting to moan and groan with the increasing waves of pleasure building inside her. ‘Ooooohhhhh……mmmnngghhh……Bindi please’ she complained.

‘Don’t tell me you don’t like this Jemma’ Bindi scolded sternly now ‘you sound like you’re enjoying it; she teased as Jemma moaned again. ‘Ooooohhhhh……. aaaaaahhhhhh……mmmmnnnn………please…’ Jemma groaned now, flushing at Bindi’s chastising of her. Again, the Indian girl cracked a slap off Jemma’s ass, starting to redden her butt cheeks as she brought her ever closer to a climax. As Jemma’s anguished screams of humiliation tinged pleasure became louder, more intense, she got support from Beth just as she needed it the most, Beth shifting the edge of her seat and reaching her hand out and letting Jemma take it to give her some comfort as she screamed out her orgasm to Bindi’s rough strap-on fucking. ‘Awwww, how sweet’ Bindi laughed now, ‘look at the little lover girls holding hands’ she continued before asking Karen ‘how long do I have left ref?’

‘One-minute Bindi’ Karen told her.

‘Back in the ring whore’ she told Jemma now, throwing her down to the mat in a seated position and she grabbed Jemma’s hair forcing her to stay in place as she now forced the strap-on in to her mouth, roughly face fucking her as she made her taste her own pussy. Jemma gagged, feeling the strap-on thrusting deeper in to her throat, and Bindi took one last chance to tell her ‘this is what happens when you take on a superior Indian woman!’ before she pushed Jemma in the face, knocking her back to the mat, a defeated hot mess as she lay there with her hands covering her face. It was Beth who moved the quickest again, going into the ring, the roles reversed from her last match with Bindi as she was now hugging a defeated Jemma in the ring while Bindi collected the spoils of victory now as she collected Jemma’s black and emerald green lingerie from around the ring. That was doubtless going to join Bindi’s collection and the Indian girl would also reclaim her original wrestling panties now.

‘Well done Bindi’ Priya said, a little louder that was probably necessary given her proximity to her niece. ‘No western whore can match a true Indian fighting woman. We are superior in the ring; she told Bindi who beamed with pride.

‘Care to back that up?’ a voice came from the opposite corner, adding ‘bitch…’ the final word dripping with challenge. Emma had heard just a little too much from Priya now. ‘Your niece won fair and square, I’ll give her that, but I will kick your fat arse all the way from here to India’ Emma challenged.

‘Well…. I, er…. I don’t have my wrestling gear with me’ Priya protested, seeming to back track from a fight.

‘Tomorrow then’ Emma asked ‘unless you’re too much of a pussy that is of course’ she continued.

‘Tomorrow it is then, yes’ Priya agreed confidently ‘and I will make you eat your words and prove you’re just another western whore…’ the Indian woman told Emma, the match all set it seemed for the following day. There might be some overnight rules discussions but the garage ring would see its second huge fight in as many days.

Now, Emma ducked in to the ring, checking that Jemma was OK, although it seemed that Beth had everything covered on that front for now.

The evening would end with the pull out being prepared for Beth again as she would stay over, this time the roles reversed as she was comforting Jemma. Judging by the chatting and the sounds of laughter coming from that room for the later part of the evening, it kind of suggested that Jemma had perhaps recovered pretty quickly from her ordeal at Bindi’s hands. Or she was doing a good job of hiding it I guess; time would tell.