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Sara’s Lesson
By Wolfboy
A Flashback to the time Sara bit off more than she could chew in one of her first catfights
‘I guess that’s just the way it works sometimes’ Sara told Jemma over the phone following her recent defeat to Toni. ‘Sometimes, if you’re truly a fighting woman, you’ll find yourself on the wrong end of it against a woman who knows too much, or is just plain better, tougher or meaner than you. There’s no disgrace in losing to a woman like Toni, Jemma’ she pointed out. ‘She’s a nasty piece of work, she’s devious, but when it comes down to it, the woman can fight, I’ll give her that.’ Sara admitted begrudgingly.
‘But now I’ve got mum into a bad situation with her as well’ Jemma told Sara, feeling more than a little guilty that Emma had decided to throw the towel in for her, putting herself in the position of having her career as a professional fighter on the line in a catfight with Toni. ‘It’s all my fault!’ she admitted.
‘She’d have stepped in for you whatever the consequences’ Sara told Jemma reassuringly. ‘And she’s very capable of dealing with Toni again. She’s done it before!’ Sara declared. It was true; Emma had got wins in the bag against the tough Texan before. But it was also fair to say that Toni had wins over Emma too. The match would be fraught with danger for both fighters.
‘I know, but she shouldn’t have to fight my battles. I got her in a fight with Bindi’s aunt, then Claire, and now this. All because I bit off more than I could chew!’ she told Sara. Although she hadn’t been trained by the strawberry blonde Southern Belle for some while, this was still a woman she trusted enough to confide in.
‘Well you didn’t really did you?’ Sara told her. ‘I mean you’ve beaten Bindi often enough, so that’s a 50-50 at worst for you. Claire tricked you because she’s a devious little cunt. And actually, until Toni was starting to get creative with the environment, you were well in that fight as well. You can beat her you know. You need time to mature more as a fighter, and the confidence that you can do it, but I know that you can beat Toni in time.’ Sara told Jemma.
‘Thanks Sara’ Jemma smiled. ‘It really helps to hear that, I might not believe in myself right now, but I do believe in your judgement’ then she smiled again, and told Sara, ‘I bet you never made a mistake like that!’
‘Oh you’d be surprised Jemma’ Sara admitted readily now. ‘I did it once and got quite the beatdown for it’ she told Jemma.
‘Really?’ Jemma asked her, sounding more than a little surprised that anyone could beat Sara down woman to woman.
‘Really!’ Sara told her. ‘A pure one on one butt kicking of the highest order’ she admitted. ‘Delivered by one of the toughest, nastiest bitches I think I’ve ever faced, all because I beat up her daughter in a fair one on one match. I fell right into her trap’ Sara admitted. ‘Bitch even sent me a video of it to remember her by’ she smiled wryly. ‘Not that I’ve ever watched it, because I remember it pretty well without to this day. Ironically, her daughter is looking like my next challenger for the Hong Kong title now’ Sara finished.
‘Trained by her mum I bet’ Jemma told Sara, and suddenly there was a change in Jemma’s mindset. ‘You know you’re going to need to watch that video don’t you?’ she pointed out. ‘To make sure that you’re ready for all of her dirty tricks’ she further explained.
‘You might be right’ Sara admitted. ‘Not a fight I relish the thought of watching alone mind you’ she told Jemma. ‘I will be over in the U.K. next week’ she said ‘do you fancy getting take out one night and watching it with me?’ Sara suggested.
‘If by take out you mean take away’ Jemma chuckled, adopting a plummy English accent for a moment, ‘then I’m in!’
‘Don’t make me kick your butt as well!’ Sara laughed in return, but the plan was in place. The two women would watch the fight the following week.
* * * * *
Jemma arrived the following week at the apartment Sara had purchased despite being set up by Claire as she viewed the property. The strawberry blonde had a mental note still to provide Claire with the receipt for that. Food had been eaten, brought over by Jemma who had swung by the local Chinese takeaway on her way over to Sara’s. Drinks had been poured. Sara had taken Jemma to task about why she wasn’t cold, just wearing a summer dress, when she was in jeans and a jumper. ‘Because this is warm for here in the U.K.’ Jemma had pointed out. ‘We don’t get weather like y’all get in the deep south very often!’
‘Very true’ Sara had to agree. There was a chill in the air she had thought, but was that brought on by the weather or the prospect of reliving her worst defeat? Whatever, it was time to do that she realised, although aspects of that day were very much imprinted on her psyche, never really forgotten. She pushed the DVD into the machine beneath the television and returned to take her seat with Jemma on the large sofa. Jemma actually recognised the tension in Sara’s body as she reached for the play button on the remote, and she put her hand on Sara’s arm for a moment. ‘You know, you don’t have to watch this if you don’t want to Sara. We can always watch something else’ Jemma offered.
‘No’ Sara said firmly. ‘Thanks for suggesting it, but you were right in what you said last week. How her daughter fought against me years ago isn’t relevant for my title defence against her. How this bitch did though? That might just be’ she told Jemma. Then she pressed play on the remote control and settled back to watch as the screen came to life showing a fixed camera mounted fairly high in the corner of a room, so that it could capture all of the action, looking down on it. The room remained empty for a moment or two more, before a solid looking middle aged woman walked in to shot. ‘Morgan Steele’ Sara explained to Jemma. ‘The prime bitch!’ she confirmed.
‘Looks nasty’ Jemma agreed, taking in the appearance of this fighting woman. Greying blonde shoulder length hair formed a face with a scowl etched on it gave way to a black and leopard print lingerie thong body suit, trimmed in pin and worn with black sheer hold up stockings. Her nails were long, sharp and dangerous looking, even on the old recording. Finally as she walked up closer to the camera, presumably to check it was running OK, her eyes were revealed to Jemma as being a steel grey colour, set in an expression of determination and confidence; their colour matched her name. Then her head turned, just a split second before Sara walked into the picture.
‘Ooohhhhh, cute outfit!’ Jemma told Sara as she saw the younger version of the strawberry blonde American enter the room. It was unmistakably her, at the age of 21 with lighter and longer blonde hair. Powerfully built already at that age, she was clearly already a formidable opponent. And the outfit in question; red semi opaque hold up stockings, a tiny thong with a number of small lace and mesh straps that linked into a heart shaped gold ring, just above Sara’s womanhood, and a red bra, the cups of which consisted entirely of thin strands of red lace, linked into two more gold heart shaped rings that framed her already stiff nipples, excited at the prospect of the fight. She had flawless yet simple make up, red finger nails, and a smile on her face that said ‘this is going to be fun!’
‘You looked hot Sara!’ Jemma gushed enthusiastically.
‘That’s because I was!’ Sara laughed. ‘Hot and dumb, I mean, who the fuck would choose to fight a woman with nails like that, wearing a bra like that!?’ she pointed out.
‘Ummm…...yeah, that’s a fair point!’ Jemma agreed with her. ‘But still, super hot!’ she declared.
‘Well, I think you’re a good judge of that at least!’ Sara was forced to agree.
On screen, Morgan Steele spoke now, addressing Sara with an edge to her voice. ‘So bitch, thirty minutes, with verbal submissions honoured, but victory only by a knockout after the thirty minute timer sounds. No rules, best bitch wins’
‘Sure’ Sara smiled in return. ‘I’ll beat you up just like I beat your girl up, only I get to do it to you for longer!’ she flatly told Morgan.
‘Cocky cunt’ Morgan Steele shot back, not elaborating any further. ‘So, to make it official, why don’t you tell me your stats, then I’ll tell you mine and then we can get to it.’
‘I’m Sara….but you already know that from me kicking Raven’s worthless ass. I’m 21 years old, 5 feet 9 inches tall, 172lbs 38D-D27-40 and I have 5 fights and 5 wins!’ she told Morgan, and the camera for that matter.
‘Very good’ Morgan replied. ‘Well, you know that I’m Morgan then. I’m 45 years old, 5 feet 8 inches and 160 lbs. I measure 36D-27-39, and I have 47 wins and 5 losses. ‘ the older woman told Sara and the camera.
There was no further ado, not even an instruction to fight or a question of if each other was ready. Instead, Sara simply waded into Morgan Steele from the off, swinging heavy punches at the older woman. Each punch was loaded up with venom by Sara, delivering her blows with the intent to hurt from the start. Heavy blows of course would carry a heavy drain on her stamina too, but this was a young fighter, used to blowing through opponents in matches where one or two submissions at most were needed for victory. The heavy barrage of punches was able to drive Morgan back to one of the plain white walls of that room within 30 seconds of the start despite her relative ability to block most of them. It was the weight of the punches doing the work for Sara so far before Morgan defensively raised a knee to try and stem the tide of the attacks. Sara trapped that against her, between the two bodies and went to a crotch and ass grab, knowing that the thin material of Morgan’s lingerie suit offered little protection to the older woman who moaned, suffering early pain at the powerful young blonde’s hands. Then Sara sent in a short right hand to the jaw to drop Morgan Steele to a knee before she stepped back. Cockily, she told her, ‘come on grandma, get up so I can knock you down again…..we can do this all day long!’
Morgan glowered at her, but said nothing just yet, getting up and rejoining the fight which went the same way as the opening seconds had done with Sara swinging those heavy punches to help her chase her experienced opponent around the room. This time there was a slight change in the direction of the action with Morgan looking to give space rather than find her back to the wall again so soon. Sara’s punches were venomous; they also weren’t landing with any consistency despite the appearance of the fights opening. This was a game of cat and mouse, but potentially one where the mouse was the one currently on the attack with her fists flying.
Still, Sara once again caught Morgan against the wall following a bit of a longer chase than the first time around, and the same mistake appeared to play out. The older woman raised her knee to defend, found it trapped between her body and that of the curvaceous young blonde. Again, her ass and pussy were wide open to a clawing attack, poorly defended by her choice of lingerie. She cried out, was dropped to a knee by Sara, this time with a short headbutt to the mouth. Now Sara went on to the attack though, using that greying blonde hair to bring Morgan to her feet so that she would lift her and slam her. An unpolished slam, delivered by a fighter with power and potential, but without all of the skills to truly allow her to harness it at this point. Against that back drop then it seemed a bit of a surprise that following an exploratory kick to the body, Sara settled into a high reverse schoolgirl pin, punched Morgan once in the body, then shifted back towards the face sit. Was that enough to force a submission? It seemed so, with Morgan blurting out the words, evidently fearful of allowing the young blonde to sit on her face. Just three minutes of action had passed. Sara stood back, taunted ‘come on you old bitch, you’re even easier than your bitch daughter!’, then waited for Morgan to get up.
‘I was already in trouble’ Sara told Jemma. ‘I just didn’t realise it but she was simply baiting me to fight faster and harder, knowing I was on top and hurting her, and actually I wasn’t really at all!’
‘I know what you mean’ Jemma agreed, ‘and that point when you run out of energy is never fun. I had that the second time round when I fought Bindi. Kind of thought I had her and then I so didn’t’ she recalled all too well.
‘It can happen’ Sara agreed, as on screen she was straight back into the action, following a cursory break, wrenching Morgan to her feet by her greying blonde hair. A shove in the chest pushed the older woman back to the bare wall of the mat room. Again the flurry of punches came from Sara, wide swinging, heavy blows, blocked by the arms of her experienced opponent for the most part, although she still moaned and groaned with each punch, sounding for all the world like she was rocking and reeling. Sara pressed home what she perceived to be an advantage, even as Morgan struck her with some speed now, a slap snapping her face to the side. A minor inconvenience, one that Sara pressed through, a fighter used to fighting short, one or two submission fights, convinced she was beating down her opponent. Once again, Morgan struck with a right handed slap to the face, a blow sent in with speed and venom that Sara didn’t see coming. Still she didn’t see the problem, and worked to the body, actually getting through with a decent gut punch before latching onto Morgan’s breasts in a harsh claw through her leopard print lingerie.
Morgan’s eyes closed in apparent pain, but they had already taken in what they needed to see by then. That Sara was already starting to tire, the early exertions she’d made having sapped her energy, her body just starting to glisten with sweat, her breath coming in gulps and gasps more so. Morgan knew she was young enough to recover from this position if she was cagey, and if she were given chance. She would allow Sara neither of those things, moaning along with the breast maul for a moment longer, genuinely enough, as the young blonde quite clearly knew how to maul a pair of tits. Then she struck hard and fast, a decisive attack to knock Sara aback as her knee ploughed into her belly hard. It was a devastating, breath snatching attack by the older woman, timed perfectly to surprise her to the extent that Sara’s hands still rested on Morgan’s breasts as the second knee landed, pumped up into her crotch with intent. Accuracy too, knee cap connecting with pussy to wobble Sara’s knees. Still the younger blonde was upright, a degree of the colour draining from her face as her hands fell away from Morgan’s breasts. Now some colour was slapped back into her face with a stinging blow that snapped her face to the side as it crashed home. Finally, reeling from the surprise assault, Sara was grabbed by the arm as Morgan deftly swapped places against the wall with her. She pushed Sara face first to the wall, pinning her there with a hand on the side of the face, leaning her body into the bigger blonde, and she whispered to her ‘time to find out what you’re really made of now, cunt’. That was the prelude to three hard kidney punches, the last of which finally buckled Sara’s legs, sending her to the mats.
‘That was the beginning of the end right there’ Sara told Jemma.
‘She’s vicious’ the redhead remarked in return.
‘A real streetfighter’ Sara confirmed. ‘Not that I knew it when I took the match back then of course’ she admitted.
As if to prove the point, Morgan followed up methodically now, catching Sara in the half rise with a knee into the ribs. That sent Sara back to the mat, flat out for a moment, trying to suck in air, before instinct told her to get up and fight. She was caught in the half rise though by Morgan with another knee, and again she was flat out on the mat, fighting to refill her lungs. In contrast to Sara’s earlier fast paced attack, this was slower from the older woman, content to do her damage with heavy, well placed blows, rather than a flurry of activity. That was highlighted as she was patient enough to allow Sara to get to all fours under her own steam, before sending in a football kick straight to her breasts. Sara rolled to her back, both arms clutching across her breasts at the sudden shock pain that she felt. Once more, Morgan took her time, telling her coldly ‘come on you little bitch, I thought we were going to do this all night?’ as she mocked Sara’s southern accent a little. It was enough to raise Sara’s ire and she looked to get to her feet swinging again, but now the dynamic had changed. Morgan wasn’t really covering up, content to take what Sara was throwing now, knowing that the snap and power had left the young blonde’s work already. And she was striking back now as well, her slaps to the face delivered at half power but constantly redirecting Sara slightly as they landed. Then Morgan showed her savage style once more with a full power slap, followed immediately by the same hand crashing back into Sara’s other cheek as a backhand strike. Sara swung again, for the fences, with a right hand but she was knocked off balance by the two rapid fire shots and her fist sailed through the air harmlessly. Meanwhile, Morgan loaded up with a straight right hand to the face, catching Sara in the mouth and knocking her to her butt. A knee landed, right between Sara’s breasts now, knocking her flat to her back, and Morgan was on her straight away. ‘What was it you did to me bitch?’ she asked, ‘was it this?’ she enquired further, sitting heavily on Sara’s face in a reverse face sit, sending a couple of punches into Sara’s body. ‘Well? Got something to say for yourself now?’ Morgan asked, easing her ass up slightly to allow Sara half a breath only for her to waste the chance by telling Morgan ‘yeah….fuck off!’ before the air tight smothering face sit was back on.
Again Morgan punched to the body, meticulously well placed, hurtful punches as she showed that quality was more important than quantity. Then her claws were sunk in to Sara’s breasts, the design of her bra offering plenty of bare flesh for her to attack without even having to remove the top. Muffled or not, Sara’s shrieks of pain were pretty audible before Morgan eased her ass up a fraction to ask ‘how about now you little slut?’ Again Sara used the chance to fire back verbally, telling Morgan ‘fuck off you fat cun…...mmmmffff!’ as the older woman sat back to cut off the last part of the insult. Two more punches landed, one in each side, then the greying blonde smiled thinly and took a double nipple twist, turning each in an opposite direction, then gleefully forcing both nipples against the metal ring that surrounded them. Sara’s body kicked and squirmed, almost like an electric current had been fed through it for a moment, and now Morgan lifted her ass just a fraction once more.
‘Aagghhhh! I submit!’ Sara blurted out, and the older woman got off her, standing nearby to tell her ‘good, now get up you little fucking tart!’
Again, the young Sara’s emotions got the better of her a little. Instead of taking the time afforded to her to recover a little, she was straight back up and looking to attack despite the fact she was somewhat gassed by the speed of the fight and the heavy face sit. But she went on to the attack nevertheless, and not without some initial success as she forced Morgan to cover up as she went after her body again with some punches before targeting her breasts. This was a less successful move, not through lack of trying, but Morgan was better covered by the lingerie she wore. And when Sara did latch on to her breasts, she showed no immediate indication that she was being hurt through her lingerie. All the time, she would periodically sting Sara with a slap to the face, or keep her winded with a shot to the belly, taking her time as Sara desperately sought some sort of impact from her breasts mauling.
‘You want to squeeze tits do you, you little cunt?’ Morgan finally asked, flexing her fingers and giving Sara a quick look at those sharp nails before a slashing slap was turned into a breast grab by the older woman. Her eyes bore into Sara’s now, looking for, and finding, the early signs of weakness as she started to walk the bigger and stronger blonde back by her breasts. ‘OWWWW’ Sara moaned, then gritted her teeth and tried to up the ferocity of her own attack. ‘What’s the matter, can’t you take it?’ Morgan snidely offered now, Sara’s barely there bra offering her no protection against the sharp nails hooked into her sensitive flesh as they were twisted harshly. ‘Ooowwww…...dirty fucking bitch!’ Sara moaned loudly, voice dripping with pain and anguish. She tried desperately to stamp on the toes of the older woman, anything to allow her to get a momentary respite, but none was forthcoming. Instead, Morgan deftly avoided that and sent a knee lift straight between Sara’s legs to send her crumpling to the mat in pain.
Once again, the patience shown by Morgan so far came to the fore. She knew that thirty minutes was a long time to fight for, and she was more than content to bide her time, sending a couple of kicks into Sara’s body when she looked to rise, but then not following up. It was the style of a woman supremely confident in what she was doing, knowing that it was enough to keep Sara in trouble, and give her little chance of getting back into the fight. Once more, Sara struggled to all fours only to be dropped, this time by a hard elbow around the back of the head. Flat out on her belly, she was a sitting target for Morgan to drop on to, straddling her to sit high on her shoulders, before grabbing her blonde hair roughly to wrench her head back painfully. A predicament that Sara hadn’t got any chance of getting free from it was quickly apparent, because her arms were pinned into her sides by Morgan’s legs. At the same time, one hand was out of Sara’s hair now, pawing at her face, threatening with those nails, before that hand was over her nose and mouth. A semi-effective hand smother, but enough to panic a woman already winded by the brutal attacks of her opponents. She blurted out her submission quickly, only to find that this time, there was no immediate release from the hold. ‘What was that?’ Morgan asked instead, making Sara expend some more energy kicking and squirming before crying out louder ‘I SUBMIT!’
‘Should have said then, you stupid cow!’ Morgan mocked, using the hair to help her slam Sara’s face into the mats. There was no ref, so there was no way Morgan was going to be rebuked, unless Sara did it herself, but the young blonde was ailing it seemed as Morgan delivered a stomp between her shoulder blades which had Sara flattened to the mats again for a moment before the older woman was back in her hair, forcing her up then shoving her back to the wall. Her intent was pretty clear; to close in and give Sara a thrashing with a series of punches to the body most likely. Instead though, Sara gave her something to think about now, lashing a foot out to surprise Morgan as it crashed into her belly. The older blonde doubled forward a little, enough for her shorter hair to fall into Sara’s grasp. Quickly now, Sara had her face first against the wall to land a punch to her lower back, then showing some of her skills than made her dangerous now, she pulled on Morgan’s hair, tilting her head back so that she could slide an arm across her throat. It might have been a straight up choke, or maybe a sleeper as Sara kept her free hand wrapped up in the hair. Either way as she pulled Morgan away from the wall and jumped on her back, gripping tight with thunderous thighs, it was highly effective as Morgan rasped ‘get off me you cunt!’ in protest at the move.
‘Fuck off you washed up slapper!’ Sara told her in return, trying to tighten the hold, hoping to choke the fight out of the greying blonde woman.
‘I submit!’ Morgan rasped now, evidently not wanting to take what might have been a debilitating hold for a long time as she did so.
‘Weak old cunt!’ Sara sniped, but she knew Morgan’s game. She released the hold and got down off Morgan’s back, but only for a split second before she reapplied the twin holds. ‘Why don’t you submit again then? Go on grandma….fucking give up!’ she challenged, the confidence clear in her voice as she gripped tight with her thick thighs and started to work on the choke once more.
‘OWWW…..fucking bitch, get off me!’ Morgan protested, what sounded a little weakly to Sara. She was wearing the bitch down, she was sure now. Totally sure in fact, right up to the point Morgan ran her back into the wall of the room hard. The choke was broken, Sara slid down the wall, and Morgan turned to land a frankly vicious kick across the breasts again; this one a real momentum changer.
‘Right in the tits again!’ Jemma remarked, wincing a little as she thought about that move before Morgan used her nails, hooked into both of Sara’s breasts to force the blonde upright. There was no real finesse from Morgan at this point as she lifted Sara and just dropped her to the mat. It wasn’t really a slam, but it was effective enough still, especially as she followed it up by grinding her heel into Sara’s right breast for a moment. ‘And again!’ Jemma pointed as Morgan did everything that she could to keep the pain burning in Sara’s breasts. Fifteen minutes plus change had passed, and the fight was just entering a phase of slow, deliberate beat down from Morgan. As Sara spoke to Jemma, the score in the fight might have been even, but the action was anything but.
‘You know how it is when you’ve got big tits’ Sara smiled at Jemma. ‘They’re fucking great but they’re also a fucking bullseye for a vicious bitch like this’ she told the younger woman as Morgan proved her point with another kick to them. Sara was on her back, moaning in pain, and clutching her chest, while Morgan just slowly stalked her. There was no rush about her. The rules meant she did not need to force another submission inside the time limit, just knock Sara out once that time limit had expired if she was to win. ‘Thirty minutes’ Sara pointed out as the action continued ‘is a long fucking time when you’re getting beaten up!’
‘It must be’ Jemma agreed. ‘I mean, any period of time is long when you’re getting a kicking’ she shrugged as the two women continued to talk for a few minutes now with the action in the background, seeming to be very much one way traffic for the moment. Each time Sara would start to try and struggle back to her feet, Morgan would stop her dead with a harsh kick or a clubbing blow to the body or the back of the head. ‘She wasn’t really like a catfighter as I knew it then’ Sara explained. ‘All of my fights at that stage had been fast and furious. High tempo brawling, get them down, sit on their face, and hammer them some more until they gave up. Her style wasn’t that’ she told Jemma.
‘She’s methodical’ Jemma agreed, ‘I mean, to the point where it’s scary. She’s totally on top now, but she’s quite happy to invest more time in beating on you, knowing that it’s just taking you further and further out of the fight. She could easily force a submission’ Jemma said as Morgan dropped to her knees to flatten Sara face first to the mat. She got to her feet though, standing over Sara again, waiting patiently for her to get back up, or at least try.
‘I know’ Sara agreed, ‘I mean, here we are at almost twenty minutes in to the fight, and she was so sure had me that she was just having fun. And I had no real answer now’ she pointed out as she took a punt to the body on screen.
‘Her style was totally foreign to me then. I expected to rip hair and clothes and fight like fury. Then here’s this bitch, not really using the hair, not tearing at clothes so much, and content to fight slowly and hit hard. I was so far off my game it was untrue. And you can assume I’m completely fucked by this stage. I’d not gone anywhere near this long in any fight, so you know I’m totally unprepared to do it.’ Sara told Jemma. Finally on screen, twenty minutes deep into the match, Morgan was in the younger Sara’s hair to force her up to her feet. Sara was on her feet, but not for long, taking a first taste of Morgan’s roughouse wrestling style as she was waist-locked and treated to a pussy pounding atomic drop. The look of shock was writ large on her face, but before the pain fully registered she was lifted once more by a hand between her legs and dropped stomach first on to an outstretched knee. An inverted backbreaker, a stomach breaker saw Sara fighting to catch her breath once more; without any ceremony, Morgan sat on the blonde’s lower back, facing her feet and pulled Sara into a Boston Crab.
The effect was instant on Sara who cried out ‘AAAGGHHH…..GET OFF ME…...OWWWWWW!’ to little sympathy from the older woman.
‘Shut up or submit you little cunt!’ Morgan told her, savagely sitting deeper in to the hold, putting the pressure on Sara even more.
‘YOU’RE BREAKING MY BACK…...OWWWWWWWWW…...AIIIIIEEEEEEE!’ Sara wailed in anguish at the pain she felt.
‘You’re fucking right, that’s what I’ll do if you don’t give up you fucking slut!’ Morgan admonished her now. Her voice was quiet but laden heavily with menace.
‘I SUBMIT….I SUBMIT!!’ Sara cried out loudly to a disappointed sigh from the greying blonde who dropped her legs roughly but didn’t want to wait a moment for Sara to recover as she stayed on the attack. ‘WAIT…...WAIT…….FUCK!’ Sara complained as she was pulled upright and took a thigh strike right into the belly. No sooner did she double forward from that move than a knee lift, unerringly straight into her breasts yet again, straightened her up. Life was coming real fast at the young Sara right now, in the form of Morgan’s hands, slapping her face hard before she grabbed her arm and sent her face first to the wall. In her dazed and somewhat beaten state, Sara was just about able to absorb the worst of the impact by getting her hands up. She was defenceless though as Morgan raked her sharp talons down her back, raising a scream from the blonde as easily as she raised angry red furrows on her lightly tanned skin. Sara’s back arched further as Morgan cruelly snatched her long blonde hair, close to the roots, and led her off the wall by it now. She led Sara round in a wide circle while the blonde moaned in pain and clutched at the hand sunk so deep in her hair. Then she found herself reintroduced to the wall once more. Again, self preservation instinct kicked in to protect her from the worst of it, but she was wide open to those sharp nails once more.
Finally, Morgan turned Sara, delivered a harsh slap to her breasts and untangled her nails from the barely there red bra where they snagged as she dragged them. Then she went back to the hair and threw Sara across to the centre of the room by it. The blonde’s head was spinning from the sheer ferocity of the punishment she was taking, but she was able to avoid a harshly aimed kick to the breasts by dropping flat to her back. It was to little avail though, because she immediately took a leg drop across them as Morgan hastily readjusted her target. Sara grabbed for Morgan’s leg, desperate for a hold of something to try and slow this whirlwind onslaught down; Morgan simply raked her eyes to divert Sara’s attention and was able to get off the shrieking blonde without any problem. She moved straight on to another submission attempt now, rolling the curvy blonde to her side. Deftly she pulled her minimalistic thong down so that it was between her knees, exposing a neatly waxed pussy that disappointed the older woman who had evidently been keen on some hair pulling south of the border too. She recovered quickly from that minor setback though; instead her fingers violated Sara’s womanhood cruelly. At the same time, her knee was posted in Sara’s back and her other hand was in Sara’s blonde locks, pulling hard. Once again Sara’s face registered the pain as Morgan worked on both grips, bending her body agonisingly while she had the curvy blonde in a whole world of pain with the crotch claw. ‘Go on, fucking submit again you little cunt!’ Morgan told Sara whose body was displayed to the camera almost perfectly by this cruel punishment now. ‘Fucking submit!’ she reiterated, stretching the curvaceous body of the blonde that little bit more as she wrenched Sara’s hair harshly and worked her fingers, and those not inconsiderable nails in the pussy claw. Sara was, it appeared, almost beside herself in pain to the extent that she couldn’t even find the words to submit for a moment as she just screamed out ‘AIIIEEEEEE….OOHHH…...OOOHHHHHHHAAAGHHHHH!’ Then, with tears starting to flow from her eyes from this severe mauling, she was finally able to blurt out ‘I SUBMIT!’
‘Fucking crybaby cunt’ Morgan huffed, releasing the hold but maintaining the grip of the hair to bring Sara to her feet. It was down to five minutes remaining, although the result appeared to be something of a foregone conclusion by this stage as Sara was lifted and slammed straight back to the mats hard. Morgan wasted no time in getting back on to the attack, measuring Sara for an elbow drop to drive the point of her elbow right in to Sara’s right breast. The blonde’s body jerked with the impact, before Morgan got up, walked to the other side of Sara as she lay there, and repeated the dose with an elbow to the left breast. She was softening up the young blonde beyond the point there was any chance of Sara mounting a comeback and the tears continued to flow now as she shifted her position, roughly moving on top of Sara into a reverse schoolgirl position. The blonde was essentially powerless to defend herself now, as Morgan wisely trapped her arms to her sides, squeezing tight with her knees pressing tightly into Sara. She wasn’t sitting on Sara’s face, preferring to listen to the sobs of the now beleaguered blonde that were about to intensify as she flexed her fingers and told Sara ‘I’ll really give you something to cry about now you whining little cunt’ before plunging her nails into the big breasts that were totally at her mercy.
‘AAAAGGGGHHHH….OH…..OHHHHHH….AIIIIIEEEEEEE…...AAAGGGHHHHH!’ Sara screamed at the top of her voice as the sharp nails hooked into her sensitive breast flesh, allowing the searching fingers of the older woman to agonisingly knead her breasts.
‘Noisy fucking cunt!’ Morgan sniped, not breaking off her attack for a moment as she started to raise angry welts on Sara’s lightly tanned breasts. Her nails were torturing her, searing at her skin, starting to scratch and cut the sensitive flesh before she broke off momentarily to deliver a hard punch to the gut. Then the attack was back on with relish, both hands sunk into Sara’s breasts to punish her again, as her cries of pain came in short sharp bursts, along with the sobs of sheet frustration and anguish.
‘Fucking crybaby slut!’ Morgan sneered, then went back to the double nipple attack she’d used to good effect earlier in the fight. Twisting them and getting a sharp nail dug into each, she pulled each nipple into the metal ring that surrounded them. The pain was as if an electric shock had hit Sara’s body again, and she kicked and jerked in pain, but she couldn’t dislodge Morgan who laughed now and told her ‘fucking cutesy outfit wasn’t such a good idea after all was it you stupid cow!?’
Not for the first time in the match, as the pain threatened to overwhelm her, Sara could barely form the words through her sobs of pain to admit that she submitted. Finally, as Morgan’s sharp nails threatened to slice into Sara’s nipple’s some more, she cried out in concession of the fall to the older woman. Morgan broke the hold again, but there was no break in the action now at all as she simply rolled Sara to her front so that she might unclasp her bra. While it had been like the worlds most pointless fence, looking aesthetically pleasing but actually serving no purpose as it could be so easily bypassed, Sara felt oddly exposed without it as Morgan took it from her body. The thong followed, removed fully now by the older woman who declared ‘this will look so much better on Raven than a cheap fucking whore like you!’
The end was near for Sara for sure now, with just moments of the time limit left when Morgan peeled the now naked blonde from the mats by her hair. Her vision obstructed more than a little by her own tears of frustration and pain at being womanhandled like this, did Sara no favours as those sharp nails slashed at body and breasts, tracing their angry tracks across Sara’s body. Then she was lifted and slammed by Morgan again, right at the centre of the ring. Sara tried to roll to a foetal position, only to find Morgan ripping her to her back again, so that she could bring a foot down hard on Sara’s belly.
Sara gagged for air, rolling back to that foetal position for a moment, and Morgan was content to allow her to do that just for now as she walked to the corner of the room to remove her own lingerie body suit. She would finish Sara naked herself, making the blonde fear another facesit perhaps. Instead, Morgan delivered a full body splash to just make sure that Sara was extra winded. A real lung blower of a move as Jemma remarked ‘like the bitch needed you even more winded that you already were!’
‘I know’ Sara smiled thinly. ‘I couldn’t fucking breathe pretty much. She’d done a complete number on me’ she said as she heard the door open to her flat. Her mother, Julie, was over visiting from the States and had just returned home from an evening out with Debbie, doubtless reminiscing over past fights. She came into the room just in time to see Morgan trapping Sara in the super smother on screen, the hold applied with all the aplomb of how Sara now used it herself. ‘Hi Jemma honey’ Julie said ‘your grandma is one entertaining lady….wait, is that Morgan Steele whose tits you’re reclining under dear?’ she asked her daughter, suddenly clocking the action on the screen as Morgan quickly smothered Sara to the point of no return.
‘One and the same….welcome to the worst defeat of my life mom….pull up a seat!’ Sara smiled, then a quizzical look came across her face. ‘Wait...how do you know her mom?’ she asked.
‘Long story, but I finished that old hag off as an underground fighter. I mean what, you’re maybe 20 there, right?’ she asked, seeing how Sara looked on screen.
‘21’ Sara replied.
‘That figures. I beat her ass about eighteen months before that I suppose it would have been. So she took it out on you then?’ she asked Sara, who on screen was tapping frantically at Morgan, trying to submit, only to be completely ignored. The time limit was almost up, and she was going to maintain this smother for the knockout now it seemed.
‘Well, I always thought she was mad at me for kicking her girl’s ass in a perfectly fair fight’ Sara shrugged, glancing at the screen that showed she was fading badly in the smother hold. ‘Maybe there was always more to it’ she realised now.
The action on the screen was basically done as a fight, Morgan keeping her air tight smother on a little while longer just to make sure Sara was done. ‘Wouldn’t surprise me’ Julie agreed. ‘She was a vindictive bitch anyway, but even more so when I whipped her’ she laughed. ‘Sorry she took it our on you. Why did you never tell me about this?’ she asked Sara, who on screen was now the only person left in the mat room, Morgan having left with both her own, and Sara’s lingerie tucked under her arm.
‘I guess I didn’t know that you were a fighter too at that age?’ she told her mum. ‘And besides, I thought it was my problem, so I dealt with it’ Sara said. ‘So this match you had with her? What was that all about?’ Sara asked Julie.
Her answer was delayed a moment as Morgan, still boldly naked, walked back into the room, straddled Sara so that her arms were pinned to her side, and put a glass of red wine on the mat next to her. Then she fiercely slapped Sara’s face to awaken her with a jolt. She grabbed the glass of win, took a sip out of it, then upended the glass to pour the rest of the contents all over Sara’s face and chest, allowing the red liquid to sting the angry cuts and welts she’d raised there. ‘Now get your fucking stuff, and get out of my house you little fucking cunt’ she said, delivering one last slap to the now literally red faced blonde. The video faded with Sara scrambling to her feet and heading for the exit of the mat room.
‘The fucking bitch!’ Jemma said. ‘She’s such a nasty cow!’
‘Fucking stupid too! What a waste of wine…’ Julie laughed.
‘Gee, thanks mom’ Sara laughed too, finding the mood lightened a little by her mother’s irreverence. ‘So your match with her?’ Sara asked.
‘Well, if you fix me a drink honey, I’ll show you. You too Jemma, you might just learn something from it too, so you’re welcome to watch as well. I’ll go get the DVD and change, then we’ll watch that one too’ Julie told both women, who didn’t need asking twice for the opportunity to watch the match with her.