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The Viking, Whored

By Wolfboy

Emma gets her first title defence

Unusually, Emma had been able to take a few weeks off from fighting while there was some thought given to who her first title defence should be against. In the end, it was decided that it shouldn’t be a fighter who had been part of the tournament, with the matchmaking committee reasoning all eight of those women had been given an even chance at winning the crown. As they came up with Emma’s first challenger, Lady Amelia had also confirmed that she wouldn’t strip Emma of the Smythe championship while she held the world title. Instead, an interim champion would be named, and at a convenient time, the interim champion and Emma would fight to unify the title once more.

Then Emma’s first challenger was named to be Michelle Frandson of Denmark, home of the Vikings she was quick to remind Emma, promising to come to the U.K. and pillage the title before returning back to Denmark, just as her ancestors would have done. Emma had thanked her for the history lesson before suggesting this would be one Viking raid that would be successfully repelled from British shores. Michelle had pressed the issue further though, telling Emma she would be turning her into nothing but a cheap whore, just as her predecessors had done with the women of the U.K. in their time.

 

From that had been borne the first ever ‘I’m a whore’ match, where in a one submissions, no time limit catfight, victory could only be achieved by forcing the opponent to utter those words, In many respects it was no different to then having to say that they submitted, but would those particular words be that little bit more difficult for either woman to admit?

 

The venue for the fight was chosen to be a small concert hall, about 20 miles outside of London, with a small invited audience on top of it being streamed on the internet. The first title defence had generated plenty of interest it was fair to say, so the take up for the stream was unusually high to the delight of the organisers. Both women would be paid a percentage of the overall takings too, with the winner getting the higher amount. The win, rather than the exact amount they’d receive, was the point of focus for the two fighters at this stage. Emma had thought long and hard about just how to make an impression in her first title defence too. It was something that she was very capable of doing on the mats but she wanted to do so with her appearance as well as her ability. Lingerie was carefully chosen, with the aid of a couple of calls to Jemma and Beth to help her with the final decision. Now as we waited in one of the small changing areas in the venue, I concluded that between them, the three ladies had made a sensational looking choice. A turquoise one piece lace bodysuit which was essentially cupless other than one strip of material about an inch wide over the breasts which were framed by another, much thinner, band that ran across the top of them. Thong backed, and halter necked, it gave the view from behind that Emma was barely wearing anything. Coupled with a pair of shimmering nude hold up stockings, it was a look fit for a glamour queen, but instead, as the crown on her head showed, she was a fighting queen.

 

It would be tough to remain a fighting queen of course. We knew, as we heard some music which heralded Michelle’s arrival on the mats, that any title attracted opponents. One that was classed as a world title? Well, that was going to increase the interest to the next level. A knock on the door meant that it was time to make our way out into the main part of the arena, Emma to the mats, and me to the seats as the one fall nature of the fight meant there was no need for seconds again. It seemed like something this organisation might look for a little more in fact; that woman to woman feel without any need for other influences on the fighter. With that in mind, I gave Emma a lingering good luck kiss, before waiting for her to make her entrance into that main room, heading for the mats, while I slipped in to the room largely unseen and took up my seat on the back row of five that surrounded the mats tightly on all sides.

 

The podium from the original title match waited in Emma’s corner for her to put the crown on so that it would be on show throughout. There also to inspire an opponent who perhaps didn’t really need any more inspiration anyway. The same female ring announcer, elegantly attired in a glittering black cocktail dress was ready with microphone in hand, while I noticed that this time the female referee had on a much more practical catsuit, still matching with the colour of the announcer’s dress. Across the mats too, I noted briefly the look of Emma’s opponent for the day, Michelle. The Danish woman wore a black and silver two piece of very skimpy hot pants and a bra top, largely formed of black mesh with just some silver trimming to help protect her modesty. Her hair was long and lustrous in a jet black colour, her nails were painted black and looked sharp, primed to do some damage no doubt. And she was powerful enough, physically almost identical in size to Emma I thought, awaiting the information from the announcer to confirm that.

 

Ladies and Gentlemen, this is a one submission I’m a Whore fight for the World Catfight Championship! It is a not holds barres, no time limit match, which can only be won by forcing your opponent to admit they are a whore. First of all, our challenger is from Denmark; she is 5 feet 10 inches tall, she weighs 172lbs, she is 34 years old and measures 38DD-27-40 with a catfighting record of 31 wins and 9 losses, this is Michelle Frandson!’ There was a warm applause for the jet haired Dane in the arena from all sides, the crowd showing once more that while they may have favourites, they would be pretty fair to both fighters. ‘Her opponent is the current World Catfight Champion; from England, she is 5 feet 10 inches tall, she weighs 169lbs, she is 44 years old and measures 40E-28-38 with a catfight record of 68 wins and 23 losses, this is Emma Baines!’ Now it was Emma who stepped forward to take the applause of the crowd as she took her crown off to hand it to the referee. In turn, she handed it to the announcer who took it from the mats to put it on the plinth at the edge of the mat. Immediately, Michelle sauntered over to take a look at it, Emma just smiling as she watched her, not taken in at all by the rudimentary mind games of the Danish challenger at this stage. The scene was set, a first defence of the title, equally matched challenger and champion physically; this would be settled woman to woman.

 

The referee signalled for a bell now, and as the chime rang our around the room, the action was underway, the two fighters immediately coming together like two warring lionesses. In the mane of the other, both hands gripping tightly as heads were forced back, and side to side, as each tried to force the other around the mats. And each found the other to be equally hard to move, straight away learning that they were as evenly matched in strength and power as it had seemed. Still, that initial struggle for dominance continued, foreheads now pressed together despite the best attempts to restrain the other by their hair. Bodies leaned in that little more, waiting for the opening, or perhaps that first sign of weakness in the other. Then Emma struck the first telling blow of the fight, a knee straight into the belly of the Dane just allowing her to brush off the grip of her hair before trying to club her to the ground with a forearm across the shoulders. Michelle took it, her strong legs just about allowing her to keep upright, and in turn she lunged for Emma with a hard thrust to the throat that swung the needle in her favour quickly. Now she showed she was a no nonsense fighter straight away, burying a fist in Emma’s body, and then delivering a second thrust to the throat as she looked to take Emma’s breath away quickly. Emma was staggered, straight into a crunching bear hug from the Dane, and she recovered her composure just about quickly enough to grab hair and turn what looked like being a fierce biting attack into more of a nip with the teeth, before she was able to force Michelle’s head back.

 

Dirty bitch!’ Emma complained, not too firmly in fairness, realising that it was the nature of an anything goes championship catfight.

 

Fucking whore!’ Michelle shot back, the first hint of a grimace on her face as Emma pulled her head back roughly by the hair. Then the Dane worked her arms, squeezing tight on the bear hug and instantly bringing a similarly pained expression to Emma’s face. For all that she was in pain, Emma realised that Michelle was rendered a little vulnerable by the fact both of her hands were clasped tightly in the small of Emma’s back, delivering the bear hug. A smile played quickly on Emma’s lips before she dipped her head forward and bit the top of Michelle’s right breast through the thin mesh of her bra. The fact that the mesh offered her little or no protection was pretty evident from her loud cry of pain, but she didn’t break her bear hug. No, instead, she used the position to her advantage, ignoring the bite as she lifted Emma a little more, and then dropped her down hard on an outstretched leg, a pussy pounding atomic drop to immediately put the fight squarely back in her favour. She used that thrust to the throat once more to send Emma off her knee to the mats and still clutching her assaulted womanhood, she was largely defenceless against a big leg drop across the face.

 

Emma groaned, and found herself in some trouble straight away, Michelle getting her to her side and placing a knee on the side of her face, she levered Emma’s right arm back painfully, now shifting her knee so that it was positioned in the shoulder joint. Emma cried out in pain, and then that intensified as Michelle manipulated her wrist so that it was bent back painfully. ‘Now bitch….’ the Danish woman enquired, ‘do you have something to say?’

 

Yes’ Emma admitted, in between her cries of pain. ‘Fuck you!’ she told the Dane, instantly suffering the rebuke as Michelle pulled her arm back sharply so that her fingers were on the mat. Then she knelt on them as well and unleashed a stinging flurry of slaps into Emma’s right breast, setting it swinging within the loose confines of her lingerie. Of course, that was little more than a softening up process so that she might sink her fingers in for a maul as Emma kicked and squirmed a little helplessly for the time being as she continued to come under pressure. ‘Bitch!’ she moaned again through gritted teeth before Emma was able to squirm her fingers free from beneath Michelle’s knee, allowing her for the moment to prise the jet haired fighter’s fingers from her breast, one finger at a time. No problem for Michelle though as she used a heavy slap to the face to subdue Emma, then two very roughly grabbed handfuls of auburn hair to bring Emma to her feet. A kick went to the inside of each thigh, seeming to spread Emma for an inevitable second pussy shot, but instead she found herself lifted by Michelle, straight into a body slam. A stomp, delivered with the heel to the right breast saw Emma moan loudly ‘Jesus! Fuck!’ as Michelle continued with what was starting to become something of an onslaught now. She was straight back into those two rough handfuls of auburn hair again too, drawing Emma upright by force. There, it looked like Michelle was going perhaps for a headbutt, a vicious and potentially debilitating move had it struck home. Suddenly though, it was the powerful Danish woman who let out a surprised cry of pain as Emma flashed her fingers across her eyes to deliver a fast eye rake.

 

As Michelle’s hands left Emma’s hair, it was Emma’s turn to go on the attack, and she quickly introduced Michelle’s pussy to her knee in revenge for the earlier atomic drop. She did that by means of a straight forward knee lift, then captured Michelle in a tight front headlock as she fell forward a little. Control for Emma, and she used it to drag Michelle roughly to the very edge of the crowd almost before she whipped a hard left hand into her right breast. There was a bit of a gasp from the crowd as they got to hear the blow so clearly on that side of the arena, but Emma was already moving on, grabbing the jet black hair of her challenger with both hands, and using it to pitch her out to the centre of the mats with a throw.

 

Now Emma was stalking Michelle, taking her time, being careful to lurk just in a blind spot as the Danish woman slowly rose, and turned just to find a perfectly times standing drop kick homing in on her. Emma’s feet slammed into her chest hard, sending her straight back to the mat hard, and Emma started after her straight away, trapping her as she rose back in the front headlock for the briefest of moments before she lifted her and delivered an across the knee back breaker. Michelle cried out as her side met Emma’s outstretched leg, and there was only one winner of that collision. A double fisted blow clammed into her stomach too, before Emma pushed her off to the mat, a little disdain in her voice as she told her ‘come on you Viking whore….fucking fight!’

 

Of course, for all that statement implored Michelle to fight, Emma was doing all within her power to stop her from doing just that, cuffing a hard slap around her head, before grabbing the top of her hair with one hand so she could walk her off around the mats. Michelle shrieked as she was dragged by Emma, desperately trying to get her feet under her, only to find them kicked away by Emma so that she could drag her by her hair once again. Michelle clutched for Emma’s hand in her hair, Emma kicked her to the body and continued to drag her, only to suddenly find a change of plan from the Danish woman. Instead of trying to resist and fight against the hair pull, Michelle went with it instead, using the change of momentum to lunge for Emma’s legs and tackle her to the mat in a heap. It was a move that might have cost Michelle more than one or two strands of hair, but at the same time, it tripped Emma untidily, and from behind, the Dane was able to lunge, pinning Emma partly on her side to the mat. Where she had tried to be more technical in her attacks before, this time Michelle was pure unadulterated catfighter instead. Straddling Emma, she slapped away furiously to the back, shoulders and then back of the head. When Emma raised her hand to cover the back of her head, Michelle grabbed the fingers and used her grasp to pull the hand up to her mouth so that she could bite it. Emma shrieked and pulled the hand away, wringing it painfully, and Michelle slashed her fingers across her largely bare back to draw some angry trails there. Emma back may have been largely bare, but that wasn’t quite enough for Michelle it seemed as she untied the halter neck fastening now and let it fall away to leave Emma’s big breasts presenting quite the target. Again, Michelle flailed away with a fierce salvo of slaps, this time to the left breast to punish Emma who wisely dropped into a position face down on the mat, keeping her chin tucked tightly in, allowing her to defend her breasts and stop Michelle sinking in a choke.

 

It didn’t stop her from getting worked over though. Michelle had top position and used it, sending an elbow down between the shoulder blades and grinding it in before another flurry of slaps, this time around the back of the head punished Emma some more. ‘Cheap fucking whore….say it!’ Michelle demanded, raking her shoulders this time with her nails as Emma tried to flail an elbow back to dislodge her. That had little effect, only earning a cuffing slap across the back of the head, and the fight continued with Emma in a bad position while Michelle started to test her with hard and accurate punches into her sides. The sound of knuckle on flesh was clear enough in the room, as was the subsequent moan from Emma that followed each punch landing. It was beginning to look like Michelle was beating Emma down in this position, and it was pretty unclear what Emma could do about it short of lying there and taking it, hoping Michelle would just get bored of beating on her. The Danish woman showed little immediate inclination of that though, unloading another flurry of slaps to the upper body, slowly turning Emma red with the palms of her hands. Nails dug into the side of her breasts brought a fresh wave of pain to Emma, making her cry out in pain as Michelle told her again ‘say it, let me pimp you out bitch!’ evidently thinking she might take the whore stipulation even further. Then the match moved on quickly enough, Emma’s face and chest pulled from the mat harshly, drawing a gasp from her lips as she realised she was wide open to a choke right now. That Michelle didn’t take that opportunity might just have been down to over confidence; instead she reached back, got her fingers inside the thong bottom of Emma’s suit and started to finger fuck her, instantly drawing a different kind of moan from Emma, surprised at the route Michelle had taken.

 

That’s right….moan like the whore you are!’ Michelle gleefully demanded, definitely growing in confidence as Emma pretty much did what she had demanded, moaning and groaning in time to the movements of the Danish woman’s fingers. A look at Emma’s face though might have told a different story; she might have been making the appropriate noises to make Michelle think she was getting to her. Her face though was set in a stoic expressions with the Danish raider having less impact than she thought she was. Emma played along with it enough to make sure Michelle remained focussed on her finger fucking for long enough. Emma tried to move her head around now, hoping to get her hair free of the grasp of Michelle’s fingers, succeeding in getting free and flat to the mat again. She knew Michelle would come after her quickly to get her hair again, and as such she broke off from finger fucking her, bringing that hand roughly across Emma’s face as she wrenched Emma clear of the mats again. Then the Dane howled with anguish as Emma bit her hand hard, tasting herself as she did and not caring as she knew now she was hurting her opponent, to the extent that Michelle snatched her hand away and scrambled free, cradling her hand in shock and pain.

 

You dirty bitch!’ she almost sobbed in Emma’s direction, as my wife gathered herself quickly, getting to her knees and hastily knotting her suit around her waist so that it didn’t impede her movement.

 

You know the rules, you stupid cow!’ Emma mocked, getting to her feet and hastily leaving them to deliver a low drop kick, feet crashing in to the body of the still grounded Dane, rolling her away in some pain. It seemed Michelle was winded a little by that, and Emma intended to keep her that way, getting most of the way to her feet before plunging down with an elbow drop across the prone body of the jet haired woman. Then she grabbed a handful of that jet black hair roughly, using it to quickly peel Michelle from the mats and then as the means to send her straight back there with a hair mare throw. Michelle landed flat on her back, and Emma plunged to her own knees to deliver a fist drop right between the eyes now, guaranteed to stun any opponent. Michelle was no exception to that rule, clutching her head as she stayed on the mat and Emma moved position again, getting round towards Michelle’s outstretched legs. She waited a split second before she grabbed Michelle’s ankles, spread her, and without further ado, dropped back to her knees to deliver a headbutt to the crotch. That brought an anguished roar to the lips of the Amazonian Dane, but Emma was quickly back to her feet, still holding her legs spread wide so that she might drop in to deliver the cruellest of knee drops to Michelle’s already brutalised crotch.

 

The Dane rolled away, letting out an anguished howl of pain, while Emma looked on, satisfied with the pain she’d caused and convinced it had the fight totally in her grasp now. ‘Come on you little Viking whore’ she admonished, roughly grabbing a handful of hair to slowly force Michelle to her knees. ‘Oooofff!’ Emma moaned almost immediately, surprised to find there was still a degree of snap and power behind the jet haired woman’s right hand as it buried in her body. ‘OOOOFFFF!’ Michelle groaned in reply though as Emma hastily cut off any potential comeback before it gained momentum with a well placed knee to the body. She kept hold of the hair too, using it to steer Michelle to a position on all fours before unclasping her mesh bra top to allow her large and natural DD breasts to swing free. They were a target that Emma simply couldn’t resist, snapping three football kicks up into them, before she hastily stepped over Michelle’s shoulders, snapped her thighs around her head, and with a double handful of hair, fell to the mat, controlling Michelle between power-packed thighs as she did so.

 

Emma had Michelle trapped face down, almost pressing her face into the soft mats to partly smother her while she flexed her thighs with bad intentions for the jet haired Dane who moaned loudly. She was a fighter, scratching at Emma’s body, but she took a heavy punch to the body in reply before Emma slowly and deliberately dragged her nails across her back to make her squirm in agony.

 

You fucking bitch!’ Michelle protested, a hint of anguish in her voice evident for all to hear.

Whatever’ Emma smiled in reply, whipping another heavy enough punch into the body before she slowly but surely started to roll Michelle to her back at the centre of the mats. The Danish woman fought against it, but she was fighting a losing battle just now against power, experience and leverage, all of which combined to put Emma in control, and in a commanding position. As she levered Michelle to her back, head still trapped painfully between her thighs, it seemed that Emma might look to squeeze the fight out of her. It wasn’t quite the case though; she had other plans.

 

Almost as soon as she’d got Michelle turned, she got off her, rose a little, and then dropped back to deliver a butt drop to Michelle’s stomach. 169lbs guaranteed it was an impact designed to wind the jet haired woman, and one Emma followed up quickly with a second butt drop. As she got off Michelle now, the Dane tried to roll into a foetal position while she desperately tried to suck in air. Emma hastily ripped her to her back with a combination of hair and arm though, and immediately dropped across her in a cross body splash, making sure Michelle’s stomach took the brunt of the heavy impact. Again she rose, and after lashing a kick across Michelle’s DD breasts to set them swinging painfully once more, she crushed the fight out of the Dane as she slammed her heel down in to the pit of her stomach. Michelle groaned loudly, sat up slightly as an involuntary response to that, and found a second kick lashed across her breasts to flatten her once more.

 

Emma stood over her now and told her ‘what was that you said about pimping me out you cheap fucking slapper?’ as she confidently removed her own body suit. Then, completely naked, she dropped in to heavily smother Michelle in a reverse face sit. The panic in Michelle was clear immediately; she was winded to the extent she was desperately trying to suck air in, and now she found she was unable to do anything about it as Emma’s ass and pussy did the job of denying her a good breath. The contrast was stark now. Emma hands on hips, almost serene as she perched on Michelle’s face confidently, while the jet haired Dane’s feet drummed at the mat and her body jerked around desperately as she looked for any means of respite. Emma took her hands off her hips now, clipping slaps across Michelle’s bare breasts before she sunk her nails into them deeply, drawing a loud but muffled cry of pain from the jet haired challenger. At the same time, Emma took a leaf out of Jemma’s book for once, rolling her hips and starting to grind heavily on Michelle’s face to add to the dilemma for the Dane who moaned loudly, her distress clear.

 

Come on then bitch, what do you have to say for yourself?’ Emma questioned, continuing to work on the breasts and grind on Michelle’s face, knowing it pushed the Dane closer to defeat by the second. ‘Well?’ she demanded, slapping then mauling her breasts harshly again, causing a sharp but still well muffled cry of pain from Michelle. Then she blurted out ‘I submit!’, loudly enough that it was audible to all; but it wasn’t the way the match would end. The referee made no attempt to have Emma break her hold as she admonished Michelle ‘nice try you dirty fucking whore….but remember you’ve got to admit just what you are!’

 

No! I won’t!’ Michelle moaned in complaint, but she would eventually everyone knew, unless she was able to dislodge Emma. Another bout of increasingly desperate and ineffective squirming and kicking to escape followed from her, but Emma simply spread her legs a little more, sinking increasingly heavily on to Michelle’s face as she rode it out.

 

Who wants her?’ Emma asked the crowd now. ‘I’m going to pimp this bitch out to one of you as soon as she admits she’s a fucking whore!’ she claimed, a look of mischief on her face as the knew that alone would only make Michelle try to resist for a moment or two longer. ‘SAY IT!’ she admonished again, feeling Michelle fading beneath her as she worked her big breasts almost in circles, smashing them together as she continued to claw them.

 

I submit!’ Michelle tried again, desperately.

 

No you fucking don’t!’ Emma chided. ‘This was your doing...now tell the people what you are!’

 

No…..I…..I…..can’t breathe…..please……’ Michelle whined now, all the time getting heavily smothered by Emma.

 

Tell them!’ Emma demanded. ‘I might not pimp you out if you admit it right now, but you’re testing my fucking patience bitch!’

 

I’m a whore…’ Michelle uttered quietly now, her defeat complete.

 

A bit louder whore’ Emma demanded, adding ‘I don’t think everyone heard you!’

 

I’M A WHORE!’ Michelle shouted now, just desperate to escape the long and highly effective face sit.

Yes you fucking are’ Emma laughed as she got off her and grabbed her hair, dragging her just a little way towards the crowd as if she might just make good on that earlier threat. She released the hair though and let Michelle fall back to the mat, posing over her with a foot between her battered breasts as the referee retrieved her crown and placed it on top of her head. Finally as she soaked in the applause of the crowd, Emma walked over to pick up her turquoise lace body suit, before she strutted off the mats confidently, knowing that she was still the queen of world catfighting!