Broken Steele
By Wolfboy
Sara’s mum shows how it’s done against Morgan Steele
Julie came back into the room, triumphantly clutching the DVD of her underground fight with Morgan Steele, which she handed to Sara in exchange for her drink. Then she took a seat as well, only for the first time clocking Jemma was only wearing a thin summer dress, she was barefoot and bare legged, prompting her to ask ‘Jemma honey, aren’t you cold? Do you need a sweater or something?’
As she had told Sara earlier, Jemma just smiled and said ‘this is the height of summer for us here Julie. I’m really warm, honestly.’
‘I guess’ Julie allowed, not entirely convinced that she really believed Jemma could be warm. ‘No wonder you crazy Brits can’t handle it anywhere with remotely proper summer weather’ she laughed.
‘Tell me about it’ Jemma laughed. ‘With my skin, you show me a picture of your summer and I’ll probably burn!’
‘It’s starting!’ Sara pointed out as the video came up on screen.
‘Well pause it honey’ Julie told her. ‘I need to give you some context first of all’ she said as Sara stopped the DVD for a moment.
‘You won’t get this from the video because it more or less goes straight into the fight from the intro, but this fight was kind of a big deal in the underground scene. I was the champion of the Southern States underground fight group at the time. Morgan was my counterpart in a similar Northern States group, and the two groups had decided it was time to come together as one group. Both sides were all in on their champion, so there was money riding on it for everyone, and the implication was probably clear for whoever lost. They were going to get disowned by their people because they’d lose control of the whole group from the get go. So that was all riding on a simple one submission fight to the finish. What do you know about the underground fight scene?’ she asked both Jemma and Sara now.
‘Well, it’s kind of secretive, and the fights are supposed to be pretty brutal at times’ Jemma said. Sara added ‘and it’s still out there somewhere. Secretive clubs, underground organisations that pop up and disappear with ease. You see girls come out of nowhere these days and they know how to fight. Like really know. They’re learning that stuff from somewhere’ she suggested.
‘Girls always know how to fight’ Julie smiled, ‘someone just needs to unlock it’. But she agreed with them both ‘it’s less of a thing now, but it’s still there. Groups like the Smythe’s and the Southern Belles have made hot ladies fighting without too many rules a lot more regulated and main stream that it ever was, so people look less for it than they used to. But this group is still out there. American Underground Bitchfight Association is it’s official name. And there’s groups here as well. It’s always worth bearing in mind, because they do pay well, but it’s rough action and the people that run them can be, well, a little unscrupulous. Always have been anyway, so I doubt that it’s going to change any time soon. Anyway, my organisation had a notional catchment area from North Carolina across to California, and everything below that rough line. Nominally it included Mexico too I think, at least I definitely used to fight enough of those bitches. Morgan’s group had everything North of that line pretty much, including Canada. Nevada and Utah were kind of neutral I guess you’d describe them as, so this was held at a ranch in the desert outside of Vegas, so neither woman really had a home field advantage’ Julie said, then she smiled, ‘well, roll the film honey!’
Sara pressed play and the video opened with an overhead shot of the ranch in question, a handful of green watered pastures, surrounded by the dust and dirt of the more barren desert. Then it seemed to zoom in, but actually became pretty evident that this was a drone shot as it flew around a barn, then into it, before finally going down a set of wooden steps. The door at the bottom opened from the inside, the drone flew in and the main arena was revealed for the fight. A small square of thin wrestling mats in white, surrounded by a low retaining wall that would probably come up as far as most fighter’s lower back. The wall was made of a clear perspex, not unlike that which surrounded an ice hockey rink, and lightly padded around the top. Surrounding that on all sides were four sections of steeply tiered seating, full of gentlemen in tuxedos and ladies in ball gowns. The finery on show wouldn’t have looked out of place at the Met Gala, but there were here for a much more primal reason. They wanted to watch two ladies tear in to each other, and not just any ladies; for these organisations, these were the best two fighting ladies in the country right now.
For such a prestigious occasion, there was little in the way of pomp prior to the match now. First to the fighting arena, for that was what it was, was the northern champion, Morgan. She wore a black gladiatrix style mini skirt, and a matching black T-shirt as she entered through the small door open at the corner of the arena in the perspex retaining wall. She stayed on that side of the arena, face set in a determined and focussed expression, hair blonder than when Sara had fought her then, showing that this was a fight some while before Sara and Morgan had fought. Then there was a clear show that the crowd were looking in a different direction for the entrance of the Southern States champion, Julie. Dressed similarly to Morgan, even blonder than her rival, she was in a deep red gladiatrix mini skirt, coupled with a small red string bikini top as she too entered the arena through a small door on her side of it. Then both doors were closed behind the ladies, leaving them alone with a referee in the arena for the fight. Both took off their respective tops now, passing them over the retaining wall of the fighting arena. As they did so, a voice filled the room ‘Ladies & Gentlemen, this fight it to determine the inaugural champion of the newly formed American Underground Bitchfight Association. It it champion versus champion, it is no holds barred, and it had no time limit. It will be won when one woman submits the entire match. First of all, let me introduce the Southern States Underground Champion, Julie, from Tuscaloosa, Alabama. She is 45 years old, 5 feet 8 inches tall, she weighs 158lbs and measures 38DD-28-29 with a record of 51 wins and 10 losses. Her opponent from Harare, Zimbabwe, fighting out of Dayton, Ohio is the Northern States Underground Champion, Morgan. She is 43 years old, 5 feet 8 inches tall, 164lbs and measures 36D-28-39 with 23 wins and 2 losses’.
Now the referee pulled the two women together, made the final checks of their outfits to make sure that each wore nothing beneath those short miniskirts. Final instructions were made, Julie offered a handshake, Morgan flipped her middle finger at her, Julie shrugged and both women returned to their side of the small fight arena. There was a brief moment where both women simply eyeballed each other across the small expanse of no woman’s land between them. Then the referee waved a hand, signalling the start of the fight as the two women came together and started to fight at an early, ferocious pace. Morgan lead with a straight right hand to the mouth that landed well enough to snap Julie’s head back but not to stun her so as Morgan looked to close in straight away, she took a knee to the body. Both fell then into an early clinch as Morgan, with that little bit of momentum behind her, was able to just force Julie back to the wall. Both women were in to the hair, but being on the front foot, Morgan was able to bend Julie back a little over that low wall, switching to one hand in the face to help her push her back more. Julie responded with a short right hand to Morgan’s body that didn’t seem to overly concern the Northern States champion for now. Then she felt Julie’s teeth try to nip at her fingers, and she snarled ‘cunt!’ before hooking the inside of Julie’s left leg with her right foot. She used that to pull her leg out a little wider to open her up to a knee pumped up into her crotch now, and Julie dropped to a knee, gasping a little from the early pain. Immediately, Morgan took a double handful of hair and used it to send the back of Julie’s head into the perspex wall to daze her a little. As the Southern champion sat there, slumped a little in her dazed state, Morgan took aim with a kick lashed across her breasts. Then she backed off a moment, content to milk the applause from the crowd, which was especially enthusiastic from those connected with the Northern States group.
‘Cocky bitch!’ Sara remarked as Morgan sauntered back in and took a kick to the belly, thrown by Julie as she was still on the mat.
‘She was, and she paid for it briefly there’ Julie pointed out as Morgan was on her heels for the briefest moment before she recovered to come back in from the side. Out of range of Julie’s feet she was able to take a cruel grasp of her left breast, fingers dug into the underside, thumb pressed into the nipple, and she used that grip to force Julie to the mat face first. The Southern States champion was in a spot of early trouble, but this wasn’t her first rodeo by a long shot. As she landed, she rolled clear quickly, avoiding any immediate follow up, and importantly, getting the right to find her feet under her own steam before Morgan got the chance to close in on her. What was noticeable was that they were not apart for very long; there was no circling out of range; both women were here to fight and were content to operate in range of the other’s attacks, as they knew that also meant that they were in range to strike their opponent too. That was something quite evident as Julie slapped Morgan’s face while her blonde rival from the north punched to the breasts, sure they already had to be hurting from her earlier kick. Julie gritted her teeth, slapped her face again, although to call it a slap really did little justice to the hard handed, heavy blow that carried most of the force of a punch with it. It was enough for Julie to set Morgan reeling, and she followed in with another of the forceful slaps. Morgan was rocked, but still managed to land a slashing blow to the breasts, getting her nails into play before Julie levelled her with a short, but highly effective clothesline.
It was the turn of the Southern States delegation, a group clearly identified by a proliferation of gentlemen in Stetson hats, to celebrate an early success by their champion. In contrast to Morgan though, Julie didn’t soak in the cheers of the crowd, instead remaining businesslike in the early going as she pulled Morgan off those thin mats by the hair. She drove the Northern States champion back to the wall behind a flurry of stinging blows now, mixing slaps to the head with punches to the body. In return, Morgan was largely trying to cover up, but still landing one of those stinging nail slashes across the breasts, Julie’s face betrayed how much she’d felt that one, but she shrugged it off, grabbed a double handful of hair and sent a knee into Morgan’s belly, before using the hair to hurl her out to the centre of the fight arena.
‘Dirty cunt’ Julie fired at her as she ploughed into a still rising Morgan with a knee on the run that put the Northern States champion flat on her back. That was never a good place to be during a fight of this nature, and Julie made Morgan pay the price with a punt to the ribs, before she went into that shorter blonde hair to force Morgan to her feet. The Northern States champion brandished her nails again as she was trapped in a headlock by Julie, but she got no chance to strike with them. Julie held her head in the hold perfectly to deliver a short right hand to the face, then she showed her skills with a flick of the hip to send Morgan up and over to the mat. The heavy landing left her winded a little, but it was far from the biggest concern for Morgan right now. She had landed with her face perfectly presented for Julie to strike at, and she tried to defend only to find a hair pull and a hand defensively above her face to be not exactly the greatest deterrent to Julie who punched her in the mouth. ‘Fuck’ Morgan muttered, giving Julie all the incentive to strike again, this time the blow being deflected just a little by the defensively positioned hand. ‘You can give up whenever you’re ready’ Julie declared confidently, feinting with another punch to the face which when Morgan moved her hand to try and block it, she converted to a slap and grab of her right breast, nails dug in, drawing a moan of pain as she started to work her big firm breasts.
‘Fucking fake titted whore!’ Julie remarked hearing Morgan moan in pain now. ‘Fake tits can’t take it?’ she questioned as she worked her fingers in them again, enjoying that feeling of an opponent squirming beneath her now. Then she punched her in the mouth again, shifting her position to lie more of her weight across Morgan, perhaps contemplating if she could start to smother her with her breasts as she worked the tight headlock some more. ‘Bitch!’ Morgan hissed through slightly swollen lips now as she took another shot to the face, and she knew that she needed to react or she was going to get beaten down by the Southern States champion. She struggled against the headlock for a moment while Julie dug into her breasts again, noting the gasp of pain it drew from her opponent. Then Morgan spotted her chance; the position Julie lay in meant that she could get her hand under her butt and use that and grip of the hair to roll Julie so that her shoulders touched the mat while her legs were up in the air, her red mini skirt shifting so that it lay on her belly and back. Almost seamlessly, Morgan went from using her hand to roll Julie to using it to claw viciously at her womanhood, in a nasty display of underground catty fighting. Julie was, of course, naked beneath the skirt, totally unprotected as was required in this brand of underground fighting, and now Morgan made her pay for it with her crotch claw. Fingers expertly searching her womanhood, while Morgan’s sharp nails came to the fore, Julie cried out loudly in pain and frustration at the position that she was suddenly in.
Still, she had the wherewithal to find her way out quickly as Morgan took another of those punches to the face, this time totally undefended as she attacked herself, and the two women worked their way apart, both to take stock for the briefest moment of what damage they had incurred so far. Then they were immediately back in action, circling a little, but without any real caution; they both wanted back at each other. Slaps and punches were exchanged for the moment, each landing almost at will on the other woman as they jousted for another opening. Morgan worked in a kick to Julie’s thigh, landing hard, looking like maybe it had wobbled her a little. She tried it again, this time though finding an equally hard kick in return to her inner thigh, knocking her slightest bit off balance and Julie waded in, clipping her jaw with a right hand, slapping her breasts, then trying to dig into her ribs with punches. All the while, Morgan was moving backwards, a little desperately, trying to take some of the sting out of the blows aimed her way by the Southern States champion who finally caught her against the retaining wall, right in front of the Southern States delegation.
Their interest was clear, standing and craning their necks to see their girl piling on the pressure to the rival champion, and they cheered her on as she laced her fingers in Morgan’s blonde hair and pulled hard, forcing her head back. A thunderous downward chop was delivered by Julie, the noise of palm on breast clear through the increasingly excitable arena. As was the shriek that followed when she made sure to drag her nails across Morgan’s breast as well. These were two tough women, but neither was concerned about disguising a temporary pain like that, instead preferring to use all of their energy for fighting. Julie was pouring on the pressure though just now, using a Muay Thai style knee to the body to drain Morgan a little. It was followed up with a knee aimed for the crotch that definitely landed though perhaps not as well as Julie would have liked. She felt some of the fight seeming to drain from Morgan though, and as the Southern States delegation cheered her on, encouraging her to up the ante there and then, she re-established her hair grip on the Northern States champion, and clamped another vicious maul on her right breast, nails dug in as Morgan was bent back over the retaining wall of the fight arena. Julie was warming to her task now, taking advantage of the way that Morgan’s belly was presented to break her breast maul, send a hard right hand into the pit of her stomach to draw a gasp from Morgan, then clamp straight back down with another breast maul.
‘COME ON JULIE, FUCK HER UP!’ the Southern States delegation encouraged their champion, feeling the fight was starting to head in her direction.
‘FIGHT THE BITCH OFF MORGAN, YOU’VE GOT THIS!’ the Northern delegation countered while those who formed the remainder of the crowd remained on the edge of their seats, wondering if the fight was nearing a climax already. It was certainly Julie getting the better of things still, that hair hold letting her bend Morgan back over the top of the wall while she continued to work mercilessly on her opponent’s breast. A smile crossed her face as she heard Morgan cry out ‘Aagghhhh….my fucking tit!’, a sure sign in her eyes that Morgan was a fading force in the fight already.
‘Now ladies’ Julie told Sara and Emma as they watched the action unfold intently. ‘You’re about to see something in stark relief here just in case you didn’t already know it. Just because you might think someone is done, they might not be. I thought I had her here’ she admitted. The action on screen kind of backed up that confidence too, as she sunk another right hand hard into Morgan’s belly and then went back to the fierce tit maul again. As Morgan shrieked in pain, Julie told her ‘I’ll fucking milk your false udders, cunt’ and pressed on, feeling that she held the edge, working her fingers and no doubt bringing agony to her rival as she did so. It may have been more luck than judgement as Julie shrugged off a hand pawing a little desperately at her face, but Morgan had found herself a target. The hand was straight back in Julie’s face, a long and nasty rake of the eyes ensued, accompanied by an anguished howl from Julie, and the fight had swung back into the favour of the Northern States champion just like that. Julie reeled away towards the centre of the fight arena, and she pawed at her eyes, turning blindly into an impressively delivered drop kick from Morgan that sent her crashing to the thin mats.
The drop kick seemed almost out of place with the nature of the fight to this point, a moment of skill and grace punctuating a fight that was more just that. To emphasise that point, Morgan was back on the attack quickly, a handful of blonde hair taken close to the roots so a stinging slap to the face could be delivered before she forced Julie back to her feet. Punches were exchanged now, heavy handed blows to the body that saw Morgan landing more, heavier punches, to the body of the Southern States champion. Julie continued to fight back, landing her own punches as best she could, before a swinging elbow clipped her jaw as she dropped to her backside at the centre of the matted area. Where the Southern States delegation only moments earlier had looked confident, suddenly their faces were writ large with concern at the turn of events in front of their eyes.
With Julie down, Morgan elected that now was the time to tie her up in a restricting hold down on the mat. Ducking her head under Julie’s left arm, she came up to force that arm painfully behind her shoulders, stepping through as well so that her foot forced Julie’s left leg out to the side. It was almost like a pro wrestling seated abdominal stretch, but one that she added to with the nails of her right hand dug into Julie’s right breast. This was trouble, there was no doubt. Julie was stretched and torqued not inconsiderably by the hold, but it was the way Morgan’s nails were dug into her breast that was making her moan in pain right now. The Northern States champion had a reputation for being a vicious mauler when the chance arose. Julie’s cries of pain attested to that for suer as she roared in pain while Morgan told her ‘it’s your weak sagging udders that can’t handle it slut!’
‘Fuck off!’ Julie replied on screen before crying out ‘AAAHHHHHH!’
‘She mauled tits like few I’ve ever felt do it before’ Julie explained to Sara and Jemma. ‘I’m pretty sure they sharpened her nails somehow because it was almost like having needles worked in them’ she said.
‘I don’t think they were sharpened against me’ Sara replied, ‘but she was still mighty effective. She really knew how to hurt me’ Sara pointed out.
‘And you did have a terrible habit of fighting with your tits out back then as well dear’ Julie laughed, as on screen she continued to be put through the wringer.
‘I didn’t think that you knew I fought back then mum?’ Sara asked her.
‘I didn’t back then, but you’re high profile so most of your matches are out there now on the internet. And I bet after Morgan you never fought topless again if you were given the choice?’ She asked.
‘I technically wasn’t topless against her!’ Sara protested.
‘You might as well have been in that cute bra!’ Jemma laughed. ‘I mean you were covered….but you so weren’t covered!’
‘Yeah….can’t argue with you there’ Sara shrugged in agreement, aware that she couldn’t really fault Jemma’s argument.
On screen, the action had pressed on during that minute, driven at first by the vicious breast mauling from Morgan which it seemed had even raised some droplets of blood from Julie who continued to cry out in pain. As Jemma remarked ‘she’s such a nasty bitch!’ Morgan unexpectedly broke off from her breast mauling and clubbed two heavy elbows in to Julie’s shoulder blade, clipping the side of her jaw too as she delivered them. It was the display of a woman starting to take control, knowing that they style of delivery would surely leave Julie a little dazed as well as she broke the hold and got to her feet. Now the Northern States delegation were the ones on their feet, cheering on their champion while the heads wearing the Stetsons across the arena were bowed in concern at the way the fight threatened to get out of hand for their girl.
Morgan was confident, almost supremely so as she forced Julie to follow her across the arena with a hand in her hair, close to the roots, drawing moans of pain from each yank. Julie scooted after her, desperately trying to get her feet beneath her, but failing at times such was the speed Morgan moved at. She was dragged up against the perspex barrier, half seated, there in front of the Northern delegation who advised her to ‘finish the bitch off champ! Show her how we do things in the North!’
‘Cunt really believed she was all that’ Julie smiled. ‘And she was a nasty bitch, I’ll give her that.’
‘Sometimes just being nasty isn’t enough’ Jemma pointed out wisely as on screen, Morgan delivered a cruel kick to the belly there against the wall. That had Julie gagging to catch her breath as the Northern blonde carried on with a knee grinding into her breast while the thigh was in her face as well, pressing her roughly in to the wall. ‘Though this is pretty nasty’ Jemma admitted. ‘It’s just, well….sometimes you have to be nasty with a purpose if you want to win big fights’ she suggested.
‘You know your stuff’ Julie had to admit as with Morgan’s foot planted somewhere between her legs on screen, one hand wrapped tightly in her hair and the other dug deep into her breast again, she cried out in pain. This was for all the marbles, and this was clearly Morgan’s concerted attempt to secure the prize for herself as she punished Julie and told her ‘give up you weak fucking whore. I’ll rip those udders to pieces!’
‘Noooooo! Never!’ Julie hissed in reply, voice laden with pain but still hanging in there as Morgan told her ‘we’ll see about that, cunt!’ and started to use the hair to force Julie back up. This was a chance, Julie realised, to strike back, and she did so, sending two hard punches into the ribs before latching on to Morgan’s breasts in a double breast claw, mauling as harshly as she could. There was undoubtedly a flash of pain in Morgan’s eyes too as she latched on to both of Julie’s breasts in return, and it looked like a tit fight for supremacy would ensure now. Looks were often deceiving in a catfight though, especially one with the underground nature of this one. No sooner had both women started to test the other then the question changed courtesy of a headbutt to the mouth from Morgan to set Julie reeling against the wall again, turned with her back to the Northern States champion. That was a poor position to be in for Julie as she leaned on the barrier, looking out at the near jubilant Northern delegation, while Morgan clubbed punch after punch into her lower back. Her lip was bleeding from the headbutt, her back was suffering from the heavy blows, then she screamed as those sharp nails dug deep in her back and raked her skin angrily. She was in trouble. Deep trouble against an opponent so confident she had her almost beaten. A cruel smile played across Morgan’s lips now, as she pulled Julie just half a step back off the wall, and then with a hand between her legs from behind, she lifted Julie, tipped her forward a little, and let her land breasts first over the top of the wall. Padded or not, there was a sickening howl of pain from Julie as she landed and she slid down the wall pretty much, clutching at her breasts, and groaning short sharp cries of pain.
‘Like I said’ Morgan taunted her, prodding her back with her foot. ‘Your big fat udders can’t take it. You’re fucking finished you washed up slut!’
‘Truth is, I was pretty much finished’ Julie admitted. ‘She had me, right there. I’m in agony, can barely catch my breath from the pain. If she’d gone after me straight away, that title was hers. So here’s your second lesson ladies, and it’s the same as the first one really, but amplified. If you have someone finished, for fucks sake finish that bitch off!’
‘That’s the truth’ Sara agreed. ‘They’ll never show you any mercy so give them none in return!’
On the screen it was evident that it wasn’t so much mercy from Morgan that allowed Julie to gather herself. It was more over confidence from Morgan who decided that now was as good a time as any to start taunting the Southern States delegation about the chances of their champion.
‘Well, look at your bitch now!’ she called out at those at the edge of the fight arena. ‘She’s fucking done. Beaten the fuck up by the stronger, superior woman from the North’ she taunted them. ‘Say….not the first time you boys have lost an internal scuffle to the North now is it?’ she continued, warming to the idea of verbally berating the delegation, rather than finishing the hob at hand. ‘Well’ she said, keeping up the one sided conversation with the Stetson hat wearing group. ‘I’m just going to pop over there, slam your bitch at the centre of this arena, then just kick the shit out of her until she’s sobbing, begging me to stop!’ she informed them before turning on her heels and going back to Julie.
‘Also, sure as hell don’t tell your opponent what you’re planning to do’ Jemma chimed now. ‘I mean there’s over confident, there’s stupid, and then…..there’s that!’ she laughed.
‘Yeah….never your best move’ Julie agreed, watching the action on screen unfold. It was a hand roughly in her hair to guide her towards the centre of the fighting arena now, the first part of Morgan’s announced plan playing out just as she’d announced before the eyes of the concerned Southern States delegation. Part two of the plan appeared to go to plan too, as following a slap to the face, she lifted Julie into position to slam and confidently strutted around the centre of the matted area for a moment. Not one person in the temporary arena was seated by now, and they all reacted with as much shock as Morgan did when Julie suddenly raked her eyes and slipped down from her arms, over her shoulder, to land behind the Northern States champion. Morgan reached for her eyes, just as the next surprise struck her in the form of a straightforward punt between the legs from behind. As soon as Julie’s foot connected with her womanhood, Morgan dropped to her knees, her face pale as the sudden pain drained all of the colour from it. She didn’t know whether to paw at her eyes or grab her assaulted womanhood and it really didn’t matter for long as Julie got in front of her and delivered another kick with real feeling, straight across her breasts to knock her to her back on the canvas.
Where the Northern States champion had been brash, boasting of her impending success, Julie made no such error. As the mood swung back between the two delegations, Julie put the finishing touches to the fight. She spread Morgan, sent a knee drop to her crotch that made the brassy blonde scream in anguish. She got back to her feet again, spread Morgan once more and this time came in with a headbutt as she dropped to her knees, finding the pit of the stomach with unerring accuracy, expelling the air from her would be victims lungs. One last time, Julie got up and stood over Morgan, not gloating or overconfident, but taking just a moment to let it sink in that she almost had this won. Then she spread Morgan’s legs again and then dropped between them to deliver the point of her elbow to the very pit of the Northern States champion’s stomach.
Morgan groaned; she wanted nothing more than to roll away to find the time to gather herself, but she couldn’t do it, because Julie was on her straight away. She recognised an opponent in trouble. She knew that Morgan was gasping for breath through her pain. She knew that it was time to look for the submission that would end things in her favour. Fighting for breath, the last thing that Morgan needed was a face full of Julie’s natural 38DD breasts; of course it was exactly what she got thought from the original exponent of the super smother. Julie controlled Morgan’s legs with a grapevine, not intent on spreading her wide with that for now, it was applied just enough to give her a command of the situation. One hand was hooked around the back of the head to pull Morgan’s face squarely into her breasts as soon Julie dropped them heavily into Morgan’s face. Then she added Morgan’s left nipple cruelly, nails dug harshly in as she twisted it harshly. ‘You bite me, I’ll fucking rip that off, cunt…..now give up!’ she demanded as Morgan pushed against her legs and body for a moment, hoping to dislodge her before Julie asserted a little more power on the grapevine.
Morgan gasped a little at feeling that sudden injection of power, but she had to look for a way out, knowing that this was a one submission fight. Her hands started to grope for a target, getting beneath Julie’s mini skirt, knowing that there was nothing else worn beneath it. Maybe she could use her sharp nails to violate the Southern States champion’s ass or pussy to force her to break.
Julie was wise to her plan though and as she felt those fingers exploring her body, she twisted the nipple with an increased ferocity, making sure her nails were dug in deep. She reminded Morgan too ‘I’ll take this home with the fucking title you Yankee slag. Now fucking submit to me!’
‘NOOOO!’ Morgan whined, a little weakly, the smother taking an effect on her now. She was struggling against the move, but it was ineffective against Julie’s power and poise in applying the hold.
‘Submit you fucking rat!’ Julie told her harshly. ‘There’s no escape from real tits bitch. They’re superior to those fake bags of yours. GIVE UP!’ she demanded, twisting at the nipple more to add to the attack. Morgan kept struggling, but Julie could feel her weakening, her attempts to catch a gulp of air growing more desperate, but no more effective as they came. Still the blonde Northern States champion refused to submit to the blonde Southern States champion, perhaps the magnitude of her doing so weighing on her mind. She was trapped though and this was only going to go one way now if she couldn’t escape; she would either submit or be knocked out in the draining smother hold.
That much was very clear to Julie who told her ‘you can tap or nap bitch, I don’t give a fuck either way, the title will be mine!’
There was further struggle from Morgan, fists flying as they landed in the body of the now dominant Southern champion. From her position pinned beneath her though, they lacked snap and power delivered from the position she was in. The punches bounced off Julie’s body then, ineffective as she laughed at the way Morgan was trying to fight her off now. ‘You’re only tiring yourself out now, you stupid cow!’ she told her. Around the arena everyone was on their feet still, with the exception of the Northern States delegation who had slumped back in to their seats, heads in their hands, knowing this was looking increasingly like the end of the road for their girl.
‘GIVE UP BITCH!’ Julie demanded now; there was no reply from Morgan. The smother had taken it’s toll clearly, the air tight prison created by Julie’s tits overwhelming Morgan. A harsh tweak of the nipple proved it, and Julie demanded ‘ref, check her, she’s fucking out!’ not letting up on the smother for a second as she didn’t put any kind of trick beyond Morgan, even in this situation. But she was done; the way her hand fell to the ground listlessly proved it, a second time confirmed it beyond doubt and the referee called it. Julie was the winner of a tough fight. The film faded with the image of Julie stood triumphantly, bare foot pressed to the face of Morgan who lay at her feet, still out on the mats. The crowd, minus those from Northern group, cheered for Julie who was now officially the champion of the combined fight club!
‘So what was her problem?’ Sara asked now. ‘I mean you beat her fair and square there in a hard fight’ she noted.
‘Yeah’ Jemma agreed. ‘It’s not like you cheated her or anything. It was her mistake.’
‘I think it really all boiled down to the magnitude of the fight’ Julie told them both. ‘She lost fair, but she didn’t like it, and worse for her, the Northern delegates dropped their support for her like a bad habit. They’d lost control of the club from the outset and it put her to the back of the queue while the Southern delegates shaped the club and the rankings. Don’t get me wrong, I know I’d have been disowned by my side just as quickly if I’d have lost’ Julie admitted. ‘It just ate at her though. I guess she still hates me’ she smiled, actually enjoying that thought for a moment.
‘It’s a real ruthless, cut throat, type of world then that underground fighting?’ Sara asked her mother.
‘I guess you could say that’ Julie agreed. ‘It does pay well, but they’ll drop you real quick when it comes down to it. It’s about business for most of them. They treated me well though, because I delivered them what they really wanted’ she shrugged.
‘Wow, it sounds so exciting!’ Jemma said. ‘Tough and nasty, but also so interesting. And this is what Raven Steele has been doing?’ she asked Sara.
‘Apparently so…. I’m going to have to watch her’ Sara agreed.
‘You will’ Julie allowed. ‘But lets just say that these kind of organisations wouldn’t be allowing one of their start performers to fight anywhere outside of their control. I’m sure she’ll be capable, but you’re more than ready for her dear, you’ll kick her fucking butt….again!’