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Fast Fight

By Wolfboy

Jemma gets a shot at Bindi’s title, but does making the lightweight limit leave her an easy target for the Indian girl?

When Bindi had beaten Claire for the Smythe lightweight title, she’d surprised Lady Amelia by saying that she wanted to have an almost immediate voluntary defence of her title.

‘Who against?’ Lady Amelia had asked, happy enough to put her champion out again so soon if she wanted it.

‘Jemma Baines’ Bindi had told her, the smile on her face telling Lady Amelia that this was a part of a plan that Bindi had considered very carefully.

‘She’s not exactly a lightweight’ Lady Amelia had pointed out, knowing very well that Jemma was above the lightweight limit of 140lbs for all of her fights to date.

‘The fat bitch can lose some weight if she wants a title shot’ Bindi had flatly stated. ‘I’ll tell her myself if you like?’ Bindi offered.

‘Leave it with me’ Lady Amelia suggested. ‘It might be….better received coming from me’ she told Bindi.

‘Fair enough’ the Indian girl had conceded.

Jemma of course had jumped at the chance to get at her rival and have a chance of winning a championship into the bargain. ‘You have to get under the 140lb limit though for it to be for the title’ Lady Amelia had told her.

‘Don’t worry….if it gets me at that bitch, I’ll manage it’ Jemma had confirmed, accepting the fight.

‘Four weeks today then’ Lady Amelia had told Jemma. ‘Weigh in on the afternoon of the fight. If you don’t make the weight limit we’ll have to bring in a stand in fighter to take your place’ she said.

‘I’ll be under the limit’ Jemma had told her confidently over the phone.

Four weeks to the day, Jemma had been proven right in that. She’s tipped the scales at exactly 138lbs, 13lbs lighter than she had been for her recent tag match with Beth at her side. That was quite a feat to get down to the weight limit, but had it weakened her too much? Bindi certainly thought so, tipping the scales right on the button of 140lbs, even if she did strip naked to do it. The smile on her face said it all. For the first time, possibly the only time ever, she would fight Jemma with a weight advantage, however small. She knew the bigger benefit might only become evident though during the fight. As it went on, Bindi was convinced that Jemma would find the needle swinging to empty on her stamina reserves more quickly than usual. And then, the Indian girl knew, if that did happen, then she would have her fun with Jemma.

As champion, and in a voluntary defence of her title, Bindi was allowed a hand in the setting of the rules, choosing the usual anything goes style of catfight that was usual in most Smythe catfights, especially those with a title on the line. Where she had differed was in choosing a most submission in a twenty minute time limit fight, along with short thirty second breaks between falls, and no submit the match rule, meaning it would go the full twenty minutes at pace. She had also decreed that the fight would be fought topless in stockings and suspenders, giving a fight between two new fighters to the Smythe organisation something of a traditional look. Under those rules then, Jemma was led to the ring by Beth who would be in her corner for the fight. Jemma saw no reason to hide anything of her appearance from those in attendance, walking calmly to the ring brazenly topless in an emerald green satin thong with a matching suspender belt that help up a pair of sheer black stockings to complete her look. She was focussed on the matter at hand, looking exceptionally trim as she slipped into the ring. Was she too trim? The time to find out the answer to that was approaching fast.

Now Bindi made her way to the ring with an entourage of corner women in Gita and Yasmin. Gita led the way, holding up the lightweight championship belt high for all to see while Yasmin brought up the rear. In between them was Bindi, yellow silk kimono belted demurely at her waist, a look on her face somewhere between confidence and amusement. She slipped into the ring, took her title from Gita and paraded it around the ring for all to see. Of course, she stopped for the longest time right in front of Jemma, and while no words were exchanged, anyone who could see ether's eyes knew all that they needed to about each woman’s feelings for the other. Then Bindi went to her own corner of the ring, and the two glared at each other across the expanse of canvas as the referee and ring announcer took control of proceedings.

‘Ladies and Gentlemen, this is a twenty minute, anything goes rules match with the most submissions within the time limit to win, and it is for the Smythe Lightweight Championship. First allow me to introduce the challenger. At 5 feet 7 inches tall, weighing 138lbs, and measuring 36D-22-36 with a record of 15 wins and 3 losses, this is Jemma Baines! Her opponent is the reigning Smythe lightweight champion, at 5 feet 6 inches tall, weighing 140lbs, and measuring 34C-26-35 with a record of 7 wins and 3 losses, this is Bindi Patel!’ the announcer finished, leaving the referee to take control of the two women in the ring. There was an almost immediate commotion to deal with as well as Bindi removed her kimono to reveal that when she’d said stockings and suspenders were the attire for the match, then she’d meant just that and nothing more.

‘Tell her to get that off!’ Bindi told the referee, indicating Jemma’s thong. ‘I said stockings and suspenders!’ Bindi protested, obviously a part of her plan to fluster Jemma ahead of the start of the match.

‘You should be clearer then you stupid bitch!’ Jemma sniped back at her.

‘Fuck you….call the fight off ref. She cheated!’ Bindi protested loudly now.

‘Fucking pussy’ Jemma shot back at her, ‘wah, wah, wah…..poor little baby!’ she mocked before shimmying out of the thong which she’d worn over her suspenders anyway. ‘Here, fucking have it’ she told Bind as she flicked the thong at her face now. ‘I’ll take it back from you when I’m done with you’ she told the Indian girl. There was a smirk on Bindi’s face too as she walked back to her corner to hand her kimono to Gita and place Jemma’s green thong under the bottom turnbuckle. She thought she had Jemma just where she wanted her. Jemma now wore just her emerald green suspender belt, hitched to those sheer black stockings, a small flame coloured landing strip of hair visible between her legs. In contrast, Bindi had chosen nude coloured stockings, an all in one with the fabric suspender belt built in, a thatch of dark coloured hair between her legs as she sported her usual, well kempt, but impressive bush. Her brunette hair was in a ponytail, Jemma’s was loose, and as the bell rang, it was perfectly clear that these two rivals had waited more than long enough to get their hands on each other!

The fur flew from the start as Jemma raced in with a flurry of slaps that put Bindi on the back-foot. The flurry was at the expense of one slashing right hand to the body from Bindi which Jemma shrugged off, rushing her back to her own corner with a good grip of her ponytail. Immediately Jemma’s hands were on the hair tie holding that ponytail in place, wrenching it roughly from Bindi’s hair. She threw the tie so that it hit an indignant Gita in the face, slapped Bindi’s face and told her ‘for fucks sake Bindi, at least fight with your hair down like a proper catfighter!’ before she stepped back in and ate a slap to the face from the champion. That carried some real force from Bindi, but the two were back in a close clinch in the corner, Bindi pressed back against the turnbuckles by Jemma as both wrapped their hands up in the other’s hair. Looking to rag Bindi around by the hair, Jemma found that the Indian girl was equally trying to do exactly the same to her, and at this early stage of the fight, there was something of an impasse. Albeit, it was an impasse where both were hurting the other with their hair pulling, but neither was fully able to impose themselves just yet.

Bindi chopped in another right hand to the body suddenly, but Jemma retaliated, clamping a hand on to her left breast to maul those firm C-cup breasts, drawing a gasp from the Indian brunette. Jemma had all the encouragement that she needed there to keep up with that attack, fingers kneading at sensitive breast flesh, enjoying the flash of concern in Bindi’s eyes. The Indian girl fought it with a cunning of a woman beyond her experience though, treading on Jemma’s foot, before two more right hands went to the body, knocking the redhead a little off balance this time. It gave Bindi just a moment of breathing space so that when Jemma rushed back in , she swatted her face with a slap as she got to the side of her, deftly sending Jemma into the corner now. Before Jemma had chance to recover her position, Bindi lashed in a chop across her big breasts, and knowing she had stung Jemma, she was back in her hair in a move reciprocated by Jemma. Back to the buckles or not, Jemma knew that this was a situation where she could use her size and power to move someone like Bindi, except that today, she tried and found it not so easy as Bindi resisted that attempt.

‘Not so easy as you thought is it bitch?’ Bindi taunted, enjoying the fact that she had Jemma controlled in her own corner for a moment, getting a hand closed over Jemma’s right breast so that she could maul her now. At the same time, she forced a thigh just between Jemma’s legs, the merest hint of her trying to grind it into Jemma’s womanhood as she leaned into her. In response, Jemma too went to the breast, rolling Bindi’s nipple between her thumb and forefinger for a moment before she started to knead the firm C cup again. It was Jemma who moaned airily first though as Bindi ground her thigh in that little bit more, starting to use it to turn Jemma on a little.

‘You always were a little slut Jemma. Just admit that you like me!’ Bindi sniped confidently, seeing how her attack was already beginning to look effective.

‘You’d know a slut when you saw one!’ Jemma told Bindi, the implication that Bindi was one herself left handing though as she used a forearm smash across the breasts to knock Bindi off her in the corner. Now the pace of the fight picked up again. Jemma rushed out of the corner to grab Bindi’s free flowing mane of brunette hair, forcing her to her feet at the cost of a punch landing to the body. Again she shrugged it off, rushed Bindi back to the ropes and fired the Indian woman off to the opposite ropes. Bindi rebounded into a shuddering body-check from Jemma, rocking her although she didn’t go down from it. Jemma immediately took advantage of Bindi being rocked and used her hair to pull her into a European style uppercut to the jaw. If Bindi had been rocked before by the collision, she was now reeling back to the ropes, with Jemma in hot pursuit, so that she could send her to the opposite side of the ring. Again, Bindi rebounded towards Jemma who was waiting with a clothesline that she swung, but was surprised as Bindi deftly slid through her legs, snatching her ankle as she went and tipped her to the mat on her face. Both women got back to their feet quickly, but Bindi was the quicker and she surprised Jemma with a flying drop kick, stockinged feet slamming into her chest and sending her crashing to the mat.

Now it was Bindi who was getting on top in the action suddenly, and keeping the pace high, she dropped a leg across Jemma’s breasts. She was straight into the hair then, to get Jemma to her feet and delivered a shove to the chest that sent Jemma into the ropes so that she would rebound into a kick to the belly. That was a withering shot for Jemma to take, and she was folded up by it before Bindi straightened her up with a knee lift to the breasts, Jemma didn’t drop down though, she had no time as Bindi rushed her back to the ropes, whipped a chop across her breasts to keep them stinging, then sent her off to the opposite side of the ring. This time though, it was she who was surprised as she launched herself to deliver another of those pretty drop-kicks, only to find that Jemma wasn’t there. The redhead had cleverly hooked her arms over the top ropes as she’d hit them, arresting her momentum, so that Bindi landed heavily on the canvas. ‘Silly cow’ she admonished her as she walked straight in, grabbed both legs to spread her a little, and planted her foot deep in the Indian’s belly to drive the air from her now.

‘Champion wrestler my arse!’ Jemma scoffed now as she dropped heavily into her favoured move of choice, the face sit, Even better for her with Bindi’s early rules demand, she got to sit on her face naked, her pussy and ass smothering her directly. Immediately, she started to roll her hips in her inimitable style, grinding hard on Bindi’s face to add discomfort to the move as well as the smothering effect. ‘You might as well submit Bindi. You know there’s no way out of this….OOOOHHHHH!’ she told her rival, finishing with surprise in her voice as Bindi got her tongue inside her for a moment. Jemma's body shuddered slightly from the way Bindi had taken advantage of insisting she wrestle without her thong on. Then she composed herself, reached back and grabbed a fistful of Bindi’s bush and told her ‘not today bitch!’ as she restarted her rolling motion with the face sit, doing her best to ignore Bindi’s tongue exploring her womanhood. There was really only two possibly outcomes here now; Jemma would cum and lose control of the smother, or Bindi would be forced to submit.

‘Pack it in you kinky fucking bitch!’ Jemma complained, pulling harshly at Bindi’s bush to the extent that the Indian woman bridged to try and ease that pain. Immediately, Jemma broke off the bush pulling so that she could send a fist into Bindi’s body. The gasp that drew was enough to force the champion’s tongue from her opponent’s pussy, and the smother was the winner as Bindi started to feel a shortness of breath, and frantically tapped at the mat to submit.

Jemma raised her arms in celebration of winning the first submission then, five minutes into the match and returned to her corner for the short break and some quick tactical advice from Beth as Gita rushed in to get Bindi back up and to her corner. ‘Pace yourself Jem’ Beth pointed out. ‘Still a long time to go so fight at your speed’ she told her girlfriend. Of course, where the rivalry with Bindi was concerned, there was never much between it being a calmly fought match or the red mist descending for either woman, Beth realised. Bindi had barely made it back to her corner though before the fight was ready to start and the referee was having none of any stalling tactics from the Indian girl as she called her to the centre of the ring to fight.

The second fall started off with a degree of caution from Jemma, following the plan laid out by Beth as she used her height advantage to keep Bindi at bay on the end of some stinging slaps. Despite her mane of brunette hair being sent flying by the slaps landing though, Bindi was starting to run her mouth, perhaps hoping to goad Jemma into a mistake.

‘I know you want me Baines’ she taunted, taking a slap for her trouble. She fired back, again to the body, a punch shrugged off by Jemma who told her ‘I have everything I want just over there in my corner.’

Another slap landed in Bindi’s face even as she laughed ‘blondie can’t measure up to a real woman like me. Maybe she wants me too!’ the Indian fighter smirked, seeing the colour just starting to rise in Jemma's cheeks, something she added to with a stinging slap of her own. ‘Mmmmm….that’s probably it’ Bindi said, answering her own point of a moment earlier. ‘Blondie does want me, doesn’t she!’ she told Jemma who launched a flurry of slaps at Bindi now, even as the Indian girl told her ‘the little slut cums every time she’s in the ring with me after all!’ That was it. Thirty seconds of Bindi talking shit to her at the start of the fall had been all it had taken to send Jemma from being calm and collected as a fighter to being a seething wildcat, and the tempo of the fight went up several notches almost instantly. Bindi may have got what she wanted, but it would come with a painful surcharge to be paid first of all as Jemma kicked her in the right thigh, and followed up with a right uppercut to the breasts that set Bindi’s firm C cups swinging a little. She rushed the champion to the ropes, slapped her face hard, and sent her into the ropes so that she could meet her at the centre of the ring with momentum in a shuddering shoulder check to flatten Bindi. The pace stayed high as she pulled Bindi up to body slam her, shipping another right hand to the body from the champion as she did so. The slam looked to be the more effective move as Bindi took that impact, and the crowd wondered a little if there might be another facesit coming quickly from Jemma.

She was fighting with a little anger in her though, and she wanted to put the hurt on Bindi even as Beth was telling her to ‘pin the bitch Jem’. Instead, Jemma pulled Bindi up again, this time feeling the Indian girl’s nails on her breasts fleetingly before she slapped her across the stomach and got her back to the ropes.. Jemma fired her off again and rushed out to centre ring, hoping to level her with a clothesline now, but Bindi had the awareness to duck that move before she slid out of the ring behind Jemma, looking to take a breather. Jemma's momentum took her up close to the ropes and Bindi tried to take advantage, grabbing Jemma’s leg to tip her to the mat on her butt. Bindi wanted to pull Jemma from the ring to the outside now, only to find that she was kicked off by the redhead, sending her falling to her butt, near the front row of the audience. Jemma scrambled to her feet as did Bindi, so that was ready to intercept the champion when she reached the apron. Immediately this was a situation that Bindi looked to use to her advantage, hoping to clothesline Jemma on the top rope. Again Jemma was a step ahead it seemed, securing a double handful of Bindi’s brunette mane, which meant that Bindi could only complete her move at the cost of two clumps of her hair.

The Indian fighter had no intention of allowing that to happen though. There was a brief struggle for position on the apron with Jemma trying to pull her on to the rope to choke her. Instead though, she suddenly groaned as Bindi caught her between top and middle ropes with a withering knee to the body. As Jemma’s hands fell from her hair, Bindi didn’t so as everyone had expected by dropping to the floor to clothesline her. Instead she pulled Jemma on to the ropes, making sure her breasts were on the rope, then leaned in to kiss her, a breathtaking lip lock that saw Jemma’s nipples stiffen against the ring rope, even as she tried to fight her way clear. Then Bindi dragged Jemma along the rope a couple of feet before the shrieking redhead was able to break free. Clutching at her breasts now, a look of pain etched across her features, Jemma aimed a kick at Bindi coming through the ropes. An ill advised move from her as Bindi caught her foot, held it up, and when she straightened up, delivered a harsh kick to the crotch to send Jemma crumpling to the mat.

Bindi had gained control, but she didn’t want the pace to drop for a moment. She was confident that with the weight Jemma had lost to meet the lightweight limit, the redhead couldn’t possibly have quite the stamina that she usually did. She got Jemma to all fours, held her there by the hair and a controlling hand on her back, and sent a knee into the side of the breasts. A deliberate and very calculated move, Bindi had Jemma winded and in pain as she pulled her to her feet and sent her into the corner with a hard Irish whip so that she hit the turnbuckles with speed. She kind of rebounded a couple of paces out off the turnbuckle, before Bindi came in, hands on both breasts used to push Jemma back into the corner. As Gita cheered her on, Bindi lashed a slap across Jemma’s breasts, then sawed away to her body with two punches, causing Jemma to gasp and gulp for air. Then she was run back across the ring to the opposite corner and an equally resounding impact, back first, in her own corner of the ring. Bindi was right in her wheelhouse now, smirking at Beth as she sauntered over to the corner and pushed Jemma’s head back with an invasive hand in her face. A right hand was delivered to the body, then as she continued to look Beth in the eye, she traced her fingers down Jemma’s body and slipped them into her pussy again. She didn’t really finger fuck Jemma; she was content to let the redhead feel her fingers inside her while she told Beth ‘she’s starting to get wet for me blondie….she wants me so much!’

‘Fuck off Bindi’ Beth shot back while their war of words seemed to light a fire in Jemma again for a moment as she pushed Bindi off then ran out of the corner so that she could grab the champion’s arm and whip her into her own corner now. Bindi hit the turnbuckles and let out a little groan, giving Jemma all the confidence she needed to come in a little too fast and find that she ran straight into a front kick straight to the belly that folded her up. Now Bindi punished the error, holding Jemma in that folded over position to pump two knees up in to her breasts, knowing that these were hurtful shots now. Ones to start taking the fight out of an opponent who had been forced down to a lower weight too perhaps as she pushed Jemma face first into the corner now, That wasn’t a heavy collision, but Bindi chastened her with a flat handed smack across her ass that, satisfyingly for the champion, left a clear red handprint on Jemma’s pale skin.

The pace would stay high now too. Bindi was determined to keep it that way as she turned Jemma around so that her back was to the turnbuckles. A combination of punches went towards the body, forcing Jemma to defend lower so that a slap could rock her cheek. Jemma fired back, slapping Bindi’s face with some gusto, only to take a clawing blow to the body in return, and the Indian woman continued to remain on top. An Irish whip followed again, Bindi perhaps enjoying the prospect of these regular trips across the ring just tiring Jemma. She definitely enjoyed the prospect of punishing her rival back in her own corner, just above Beth who indignantly glowered when Bindi cupped Jemma’s breast, taking the nipple in her mouth. A right hand to the body followed quickly, snatching Jemma’s breath away, before Bindi’s thigh was grinding in between her legs, starting to really get Jemma turned on. The Indian upped the ante, working the nipple in her mouth while she clawed at Jemma’s other breast, using a devastating combination of pain and pleasure to leave Jemma in an increasingly confused state.

‘Fight her off Jemma!’ Beth implored from the outside, seeing that Jemma was starting to become passive against the combined holds, knowing an orgasm would only serve to further drain her girlfriend.

‘Shush blondie’ Bindi smirked, breaking off her nipple sucking attack for just a moment. ‘She’s busy just now’ she told the blonde who stared a hole through her, but the momentary break in one of her attacks just gave Jemma the boost to slap her face and push her just off enough for a moment. Bindi came back in quickly, taking another slap to the face before Jemma got her in a double breast claw, the look of surprise on Bindi’s face saying it all as she moaned ‘OOOOHHHHHH…..YOU BITCH!’

She quickly latched on to Jemma’s bigger breasts in return, enjoying the flare of pain in the redhead’s eyes as her fingers reminded her of the earlier work with the ring ropes. Both stared deep into the other’s eyes, the tension between them that was only ever really there with true rivals. The challenge appeared to be clear, but Bindi had no intent of just engaging in a mutual breast mauling contest with Jemma, regardless of whether she thought she would get the better of it or not. She cruelly cut off Jemma with a thigh and knee strike to the belly that drew a gasp of surprise from the redhead. Then with a smile at Beth, Bindi planted a foot deep into Jemma’s belly and fell back, grabbing the back of Jemma’s head to send her flipping across the ring in a high arcing monkey flip. That was a heavy landing for Jemma who lay there, looking thoroughly winded as Bindi came crashing down with a knee drop to the side just to make sure that she very much stayed that way. She kneeled alongside Jemma for a moment now to admire her handiwork, then seamlessly shifted into a reverse facesit of her own. The usually sensual style of punishment that the Indian girl so often favoured was eschewed for a moment in favour of some more heavy punches to the body to really drain Jemma. Then, as she grabbed and twisted both nipples harshly, Bindi started to roll her hips and grind her ass and pussy on Jemma’s face.

‘This is how you do it, isn’t it Jemma?’ she questioned, as Jemma’s feet kicked at the mat a little listlessly. ‘Well, lets see how you like it, you little bitch!’ she mocked, continuing to grind and rub herself over Jemma’s face, knowing full well that Jemma wouldn’t be liking it one little bit. The face sit smother following the heavy body blows was a problem for Jemma who was fighting to catch half a breath if she timed it right, while Bindi’s harsh work on the nipple attack meant she often lost that half breath and more moaning in pain, not helping her plight at all. ‘You’re getting weak Baines’ Bindi suggested now, going on to add ‘don’t give up until I’ve had chance to cum on your face!’

That sparked more effort from Jemma who bucked and squirmed as best she could, all the time suffering the indignation of Bindi grinding imperiously on her face. Her nipples were on fire, and she tried to bridge only for Bindi to drop that with the flat of her hand pushing down on to her stomach. ‘MMMMFFFF….mmmmffff….mmmmffff!’ Jemma groaned, her voice totally muffled and distorted beneath Bindi. The Indian girl knew just what it was that Jemma had said though and tutted ‘well, you can submit then if you can’t breathe!’

Jemma swung her legs up now, looking to wrap them around Bindi and use them to dislodge her, much to the delight of the champion who trapped Jemma like that with aplomb. Folded and smothered, it was only a matter of time now, but Bindi would have her fun. She no longer tortured Jemma’s nipples, because now she had her fingers inside the redhead’s womanhood, finger fucking her with an urgency that suggested she knew she didn’t have long to make her cum before Jemma would be forced to submit to the facesit now. Beneath Bindi’s ass and pussy, Jemma’s moans of anguish were increasingly aroused in their nature. She was in the deepest of trouble but turned on despite herself, and Bindi pressed her attack, still grinding on her face while her fingers found Jemma’s clit and elicited a guttural howl of pleasure from the redhead who was suddenly, very quickly, right at the edge of an orgasm. It would be one that could well shatter her chances in the match if it came, but if she didn’t submit now, it was likely the Indian girl could then use her expertise to force a submission through an agonising crotch claw instead.

Jemma moaned again, Bindi’s expert working of her clit bringing her to the edge, and then she howled in pleasure despite herself, as Bindi forced her into a loud orgasm, there at the centre of the ring. There was no respite or sympathy from Bindi though. ‘Submit or I’ll wreck your cunt, you little bitch!’ she informed Jemma while she pussy whipped her. That was painful enough for Jemma, but she knew that worse would follow; ‘I submit!’ she blurted out, Bindi staying in place on her face for a few more seconds before she broke off the smother when the referee told her to, claiming she hadn’t heard Jemma.

The bout was nearing the fifteen minute mark and there was a fine sheen of sweat on the bodies of both women now as Beth darted in to the ring to get Jemma up. She was breathing hard, and her breasts and body showed the red marks where Bindi’s fists and fingers had done their work. Beth knew that the break was short but she wanted to try and get Jemma ready if she could. ‘Deep breaths….bide your time babe….you need space to recover’ she managed before the referee called ‘fight!’ and the action would start with Bindi fairly exploding out of the corner towards Jemma. The Indian girl recognised the importance of keeping the pressure on at this stage, but in her haste to do so, she was side-stepped and tripped into the turnbuckle in her corner. Jemma was tired, of that there was little doubt, while at her natural weight, Bindi was the fresher, but it was the challenger who willed herself on, smacking Bindi’s ass, then sending her face first into the top turnbuckle to daze her. Another smack across her ass had Bindi’s senses reeling and Gita shouted across the ring ‘COME ON BINDI!’ earning herself a dagger stare from Beth.

Jemma continued her success, turning Bindi round in the corner so that she could whip a chop across her breasts, then she tried to lift one of Bindi’s legs out over the middle rope. The Indian fighter now recognised that she was in quite the predicament if Jemma was able to spread her like that, and she reached for a handful of flame red hair to slow up Jemma’s progress for a moment. Jemma tried to ignore it, but Bindi went for the hair pull harshly, causing her some pain in her scalp. Focus lost on the leg, she went for a nipple attack of her own to counter. Bindi let out a sharp gasp of pain, just as Jemma did from the hair pulling, but the fight remained on an even keel for the moment now that Bindi had avoided being tangled up in the ropes. Jemma hacked away with a punch to the body, willing herself on despite her faltering energy while Bindi now cruelly went back to the breast maul herself, knowing that her fingers in Jemma’s already tenderised breasts had to be hurting her rival too. The fight raged on in the corner, a punch from Jemma answered with a harsh squeeze of the breast by Bindi, a fierce hair pull from the Indian, countered by a nipple tweak from the redhead; the two looked to be fighting each other almost to a standstill in this third fall. It was the cunning of the champion that broke the deadlock, as she used her right foot to hook Jemma’s left leg and pull it out wide. Before Jemma could quite comprehend what was going on, she found that Bindi had sent a kick up between her legs. Not a hard blow itself, it carried more shock value than anything else, but Bindi took advantage of that shock to rake Jemma’s eyes, making her shriek in anguish.

With Jemma struggling to clear her vision, there was a quick change of position as she now found her head rattled into the top turnbuckle in her corner. She stayed chest first again the corner for a moment while Bindi flashed a confident smile and her nails before raking them across Jemma’s back, As the redhead screeched and arched her back in pain, Bindi grabbed her hair and slammed her face first into the top turnbuckle again. The impact had Jemma’s head ringing for sure, but worse was to come quickly as Bindi once again monkey flipped her from her own corner to a heavy landing at the centre of the ring. This time, Jemma had just rolled to her front when Bindi arrived with a heavy elbow drop right to the small of her back. Jemma moaned loudly, feeling that impact in her lower back as Bindi sat next to her on the mat for a moment, calmly looking up at the ref to ask her ‘how long to go?’

‘Two minutes’ was the answer, quite to satisfaction of the champion who knew that a draw after twenty minutes would mean that she kept her title, but she wanted to bring it home with an overall victory. Nothing more would satisfy her against her rival. She got up with a hand in Jemma’s hair, using that to force the redhead up, and she stood hip to hip with her for a moment. If it had been a pro wrestling match, those watching might have expected a side Russian leg sweep from the Indian. Instead, keeping a firm grip of Jemma’s hair to make sure that she stayed upright, Bindi craftily flicked a back kick up between Jemma’s legs again. The redhead’s legs wobbled just a little, betraying her as she moaned in pained surprise from the kick. She stayed standing, thanks to the steadying hand in her hair, for long enough to allow Bindi to lift her and walk her right to the edge of the ring nearest to Beth before she delivered an across the knee backbreaker to her challenger.

‘Much easier to do that to you when you’re not such a fat bitch!’ Bindi sneered, as she pushed the ailing redhead off her knee to the mat with a degree of disdain. Jemma reached for her back as she rolled to her front, close to the ropes, clearly feeling the impact of the painful move, while Bindi quickly got to her feet and delivered a stomp to the lower back, crushing Jemma’s fingers against her own body with her heel. ‘How is it that you like to do it blondie?’ Bindi asked, grabbing Jemma’s ankles and positioning her so that she could trap her in a boston crab, while Bindi looked directly at Beth. ‘Is it like this?’ she asked Beth conversationally as she applied the hold, ‘should I sit deeper?’ she continued, doing just that and enjoying the way that Jemma whined with pain. Beth just stared at her, with an expression that told Bindi just exactly how she felt about it, but of course she was powerless to act. Bindi knew it, her face a mask of supreme confidence, as she felt Jemma’s fruitless attempt to fight her off. Her plan had worked, she was sure, getting Jemma down to the lightweight limit having surely weakened her as a challenger. She sat back a little further, knowing that less than a minute remained in the contest as she did so; it was time to press home the final advantage.

‘Submit Baines….admit it, you’re done!’ she demanded.

‘No…...I…...never!’ Jemma bravely asserted in reply, crying out as Bindi increased the pressure on her back.

‘GIVE UP BITCH!’ Bindi insisted, knowing that Jemma was a woman at the very precipice of a submission. Surely only their dislike of each other was stopping her from admitting it now. The Indian had one more plan up her sleeve though as she switched to a single leg boston instead, using that to punish Jemma as she got her fingers inside her womanhood now. ‘Maybe this will persuade you!’ she sniped at the redhead whose face was a mask of pain from the combined holds.

‘AAAGGHHH…...OHHHHHH…..OWWWWWW…...I...NO, NOOOO!’ Jemma cried out, desperate to hold on as Bindi redoubled her efforts with both holds. The pain came in waves that increased in intensity and frequency for Jemma now, and she cried out again ‘AAAGGHHIIIEEEE…..I….I…...SUBMIT!’ admitting her defeat at Bindi’s hands almost certainly, even though there were twenty seconds or so remaining in the fight. As Bindi dropped Jemma’s legs roughly back to the ring canvas, there could surely be no way back for her now.

Bindi confidently retreated only as far as the centre of the ring where she waited impatiently for the thirty second break while Beth tried desperately to get Jemma up and vaguely ready for the last seconds of the bout. She’d managed to get her to her knees against the ropes when the referee called fight, and ushered Beth from the ring. Bindi was a whirlwind of activity now. She barrelled into Jemma against the ropes, allowing the impact with them to put Jemma on her back, then she dropped on to her, pinning her crotch to crotch, breast to breast, hands pressed to the mat, grinding her body into Jemma’s while she applied a lip lock to take Jemma’s breath away and enjoyed the last seconds of the bout in that dominant position until the bell rang.

It was a two submission to one win for Bindi, in public for the first time, against her biggest rival and she moved back to straddle Jemma’s belly now, waiting there for the referee to hand her the title belt and raise her hand in victory. Although it was a close match in nature, there was no doubt it was one that Jemma wouldn’t quickly forget, Bindi was pretty sure.

‘Anytime you’re ready again Baines, I’ll fight you and I’ll fuck you up again’ she confidently announced as she got off her and left the ring the same way she’d arrived with the lightweight title displayed proudly, while Beth was left to help up her disappointed girlfriend and get her out of the ring and back to the changing rooms.