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Stepping Up
By Wolfboy
Jemma looks for tougher opposition to test her
Part of the plan that Beth, Emma and Sara had started to formulate for Jemma was that she needed to have a step up in the general quality of her opposition. It was all very well picking up the wins in matches against other young fighters, and it was accepted that someone like Bindi actually provided a very good challenge with her cunning nature. But to beat someone like Toni, she was going to need to be tested by more experienced, stronger, bigger women or maybe those with some of the same devious tendencies Toni often displayed in her matches. It didn’t matter so much, certainly in Emma and Sara’s eyes, if those fights happened in one of the organisations that had championships, or if they took place totally in private. A tough woman was a tough woman wherever she elected to ply her trade.
Against that background, Jemma would travel to the Scottish border town of Berwick-upon-Tweed for a contest to be fought over no time limit to a total submission. A local woman, Tara Stewart, would await her there for the fight which she would host in a room at her house. She had called it an ‘apartment fight’ suggesting it was going to be a rough style of match. At 35, while not a woman who had fought professionally, Tara had been in plenty of matches, and had a few names from Smythe catfights on her resume with a degree of success. There was more than enough about her to make Jemma a little edgy about her prospects on the journey to fight. Beth on the other hand was far more comfortable with the whole situation. She knew her girlfriend was likely to be put through the wringer a little this evening, but she also knew that if Jemma was on her game, she’d have more than enough to get the job done as well.
Jemma and Beth arrived at a large enough house out in one of the suburbs of the town with a view over the river to the front, and the sea just about visible in the distance as well. There was the unmistakable smell of the sea in the air, a chill too, both realised as they were happy to be welcomed inside by Tara and her partner Alan. He would second Tara for the evening, and took on the role of showing the girls around the house quickly, finishing with the fight room. It was a converted loft with a large glass wall looking out over the river. In front of that window were two red leather armchairs, evidently the ones to be used by the respective seconds when the action was underway. They also served the purpose of keeping the fighters away from the windows and on the tight matted area that was maybe little more than ten feet square at most, bordered on the other three sides by plain walls. “Nice and compact” Jemma commented when she saw it.
“We find that it forces the action better” Alan explained.
“I like it” Jemma agreed. “Saves any need to go looking for your opponent” she smiled.
“I can see you’re going to be just fine with it” Alan agreed with her.
Changing areas were in two bedrooms, one floor down from the fight room, and ready for the action after the tour of the home, Alan showed Jemma and Beth to their allotted room, suggesting that they meet again in the fight room in fifteen minutes. That worked for Jemma. She was ready to fight, and just needed to put on the outfit that Beth had picked out for her to fight in. Beth had kept things pretty simple for her she was pleased to see, an emerald green lace thong with a matching bra and pair of sheer black hold up stockings. Closer inspection of the bra showed it to be a three quarter up bra, covering Jemma more than well enough, but at the same time, exposing a little more of her breasts to attack without the hindrance that might have been the case with a full cup bra. “It’s nice, I like it” Jemma smiled at Beth, then she asked her “she’s going to notice this isn’t she?” indicating the bra.
“Yes, I think she is” Beth agreed. Then she showed Jemma her attention to detail in how she weighed up any opponent for her. “She’s not won a single submission from tit attacks on her record as far as I can see. She’s a woman who loves to focus her attacks on crotch claws babe, so I thought it might shift her focus to something she’s less good at going after. Or not, either way you look spectacular babe” she said, kissing Jemma before they set off back up the stairs for the mat room in the loft space, finding that Tara and Alan were already there waiting for them. The jet haired Scottish woman was stripped to fight as well now, and she cut a powerful looking figure. Imposing and strong, she was built thick, solid and curvy rather than being a muscle woman. Jemma only needed to cast a quick glance at Tara to see that this was going to be a tough one.
“We should discuss the final rules” Tara said now. She stood on one side of the mats, wearing a black thong and a matching black bralette in lace a satin, not wearing stockings like Jemma was.
“I’m here for a fight” Jemma smiled evenly at her. “Tell me what you usually fight to, and I’m sure it’ll be just fine” she suggested.
“Well, usually ten minute periods, but only one submission to win. If you’re trapped, you’ve either got to get out of it, hold on to the end of the round, or submit the match. Makes it interesting. There’s jeopardy that way rather than just submitting and carrying on” Tara suggested, seeing that there was no look of concern in Jemma’s eyes about the suggestion. “Then it’s a wrestling fight. You can punch and kick, just not to the head. I don’t think too much else is illegal” Tara said. Jemma still smiled in her direction, happy with what she’d suggested, but also sensing that she still had something else to add.
“It all sounds fine” Jemma told her, then added “go on, you can ask me it, whatever it is?”
“We’ve talked about this often” Tara said, looking at her partner for a moment, “but if I win, we’d like him to get to fuck you after the match, here on the mats, in front of us all. But we also know that’s a big thing to agree to, and well, clearly you’re together, so I don’t know….” Tara said.
Beth was about to speak up on behalf of Jemma to reject that proposal out of hand, when Jemma herself chimed up “deal, you beat me, he gets me after the match”.
“Oh wow...I...err...I didn’t expect that you’d agree to it” Tara admitted, but then she added “now it’s a deal and I’m going to beat you!” she said confidently.
“Sure, maybe you will” Jemma agreed with her. “We’ll just have to find out now won’t we?”
Both women returned to their side of the mats now for some final preparations. Beth whispered quietly to Jemma “what are you doing?” now, in question of her decision to fight under the additional stipulation brought in by Tara. Neither was sure if it was a regular request of the jet haired woman, or if her partner had been particularly sweet on Jemma.
“Making sure I’ve got all the motivation that I need, and that she does too” Jemma said quietly to Beth, looking her girlfriend straight in the eye. “And don’t worry, nobody gets me but you. I’m going to beat her” she told Beth. It wasn’t boastful of big headed, it was a statement of fact from Jemma, one that she truly believed and one that put Beth’s mind more at ease than she expected it to be.
“I’m 5 feet 8 inches tall, 165lbs, 36C-27-38” Tara called across the mat to Jemma now, preparing to fight. “And I’ve won 18 and lost 4 fights so far” she finished, taking a step on to the mats to show that she was ready to fight.
“And I’m 5 feet 7 inches tall, 150lbs, 36D-24-36” Jemma said in reply, “and I’ve had 17 wins and 5 loses”. Jemma stepped on to the mats too, ready for the fight. If the prospect of fighting a bigger, older woman was bothering her, she certainly wasn’t showing it at all.
“Alan will start the timer” Tara told Jemma now as the two women walked towards each other until their bodies were touching for the first time. “When it beeps we start. It’ll beep again after ten minutes of fighting” she said.
“Got it” Jemma said, looking her in the eye. Then she told Tara “grab my hair, let’s get started!”
The Scottish woman needed no further encouragement. She went for Jemma’s flame red hair just as Jemma went for her jet black locks and each secured a good double handed grip to pull on in the few seconds before the timer actually started. That served just as the signal for each woman to immediately up the ante now, straining to force the other’s head back, Jemma gasping as she felt Tara’s power, but to her satisfaction, the jet haired Scottish woman also groaned as she felt Jemma trying to force her head back by the hair. Jemma kicked now, aiming for Tara’s thigh, landing with no little power as the Scottish woman grunted again, but kept pressing forward, slowly starting to walk Jemma backwards by the hair. Quickly, the size of the room came into play, with Beth and Alan having barely taken their seats before Tara had got Jemma’s back to the wall, quite literally. “Bitch” she complained as Jemma kicked her again, but she responded with a straight knee to the body just to give Jemma pause for thought as she groaned loudly. Beth stirred with some early interest; she knew that the straight knee was part of Toni’s regular armoury of moves, one that she’d used to break down Emma before, and she was pleased that despite Jemma’s groan, she’d taken it well enough. Jemma herself silently thanked Andrea for the work the Swedish blonde had done on making her core stronger as she took the blow and shot back quickly with a kick to the inside of Tara’s thigh again. Now it was the Scot who moaned that Jemma was a bitch as the action continued in there, close up against the wall.
Jemma took another knee, this one coming in a little more from the side as Tara looked to test her in that way once more. Again, Jemma took it well enough and tried to fire back with a kick to Tara’s legs but this time, wisely, the Scottish woman stepped in to give the kick nowhere to go, and Jemma struggled to get her foot back to the mat. Trapped between the two bodies, it left her balancing on one foot for a moment, and Tara immediately looked for the crotch maul. That brought a look of concern to Jemma’s face, followed by a whine of pain as Tara’s fingers just started to work through the flimsy covering of green lace afforded by her thong. It was a move that she knew to be a favourite of Tara’s to use, and why not? It was simple, painful, and highly effective to use when it was done right. As was the taunting that accompanied it from Tara, just to diminish Jemma’s confidence a little.
“Just think how much this is going to hurt when he’s fucking you later on!” Tara told Jemma as she leaned into the redhead, her voice loud enough to make sure it was heard over on the chairs by the window. Beth looked on confidently though from her chair even as Jemma moaned in pain. She had faith in her girlfriend’s ability to fight back, something that came quickly from her, with Jemma sending her knuckles twice into Tara’s body, forcing her back and allowing her to get her foot back to the ground. Tara didn’t give any more ground now, still working to try and retake the crotch claw more effectively, but in doing so, left herself open a little for Jemma to slap her breasts hard. That stung, it was clear from the sound, and Jemma retook the double handful of hair to walk Tara back to the centre of the mats, one step at a time. It was time for Tara to reinforce her position now, taking the double handful of hair herself again to thwart Jemma’s progress, even as she had to break off from her crotch claw. Again now, knees and feet were the weapons of choice as scalps took the brunt of the hair pulling. Jemma delivered knees in a Muay Thai style, a skill picked up in her fight in Thailand perhaps while Tara continued to look for the straight knee to the belly to mixed effect. Each time either woman landed, they drew a faint grunt or groan from the opponent, who not afraid to show the impact to the other woman, would then look to strike back quickly.
At the centre of the mats, the early going in the fight continued to be attritional. Jemma landed blows, Tara landed blows, both felt them as they took them, and then fired back. Something would give soon enough as Jemma kicked to the thigh and immediately shipped a knee to the body in return. She tried to turn, hoping surprise would see her able to roll Tara up and over her hip to the mat, but instead the jet haired Scot rode the attempt out with some ease, shifting her own hips back to deny Jemma her target to roll over her hip. Now it was Jemma in a bad position instead; her back was towards her opponent, who deftly wrapped a handful of Jemma’s long red hair around her own throat to start choking her. Quickly Tara looked to ease Jemma to her knees, pushing her foot into the back of her knee to try and force her to yield. Jemma resisted determinedly, not wanting to give Tara that strong position, and she turned quickly as she fought against it, and planted an elbow into Tara’s stomach. For the first time then, since just before the official start of the fight, the two women broke apart, circled for a moment, each appraising the other silently before they started to warm the other’s body up with slaps thrown from range, landing around the shoulders, finding the breasts occasionally too.
“Little fucking bitch” Tara told Jemma although she was smiling a little as she said it in response to a stinging slap to her breasts that Jemma had landed.
“Old tits can’t take it?” Jemma asked her playfully, just as she took the follow up slap from Tara to hers, just drawing a yelp of surprise from the redhead.
Tara simply smiled back before the two women launched into an exhausting flurry of activity, slaps thrown with abandon, cracking off faces and bodies. Punches mixed in too, knuckles digging in to bodies where they landed. And still their feet and knees were in use too, landing from time to time through a minute or more that saw both women starting to feel the pace of the first session of the fight. Both tangled back into the other’s hair once more, one handed this time, so that slaps could be whipped into the body and breasts while they stood more or less forehead to forehead at the centre of the small room. Watched in silence, the sounds of their blows and their reactions to them mixed with the sounds of the two fighters breathing, groaning when they took a good shot, were the soundtrack of the room. And neither woman had a clear edge as the stand up fighting continued beyond the first half of the ten minute round. Then Jemma grunted loudly, a kick flicked out by Tara at speed which caught her in the crotch, and as her face registered that pain, she found herself rushed back to the wall for a second time. Her back slapped into the smooth surface just as Tara’s foot was planted in her belly and the Scotswoman sent her to the mat in a monkey flip.
A hard landing for Jemma was followed by another one, this time from Tara on top of her with a splash to squash the air from Jemma’s lungs, and the Scottish woman secured something of a cross-pin. Not a cross-pin with total control as Jemma went straight to her jet black hair to keep her from really deepening the level of trouble she was in. Still, she shipped some slaps to the body, before a first attempt to bridge clear failed to produce any results. Tara took a moment to balance herself again, then her next flurry of slaps targeted Jemma’s arm, trying to knock her fingers out of her hair. This was a pivotal moment of the round potentially; Jemma clung to Tara’s hair, knowing she needed to retain a degree of control to prevent Tara moving better into position to either smother or maul her. Jemma clung on, groaning as she took a short punch to the belly before Tara started to soften up her breasts with the next flurry of slaps, smiling a little at the amount of bare flesh she had been given to work with.
“Silly tart. Fighting with your tits half out” she admonished, before she took the change to fish Jemma’s right breast totally out of the scant covering of her bra. Now she pushed at it first, forcing the breast back on to the lace cup for a second or two before really starting to maul harshly.
“Bitch!” Jemma moaned as she felt those fingers that were punishing her so effectively. She still held on to her grip of the hair despite the way her tits screamed at her to defend them. Instead she threw a punch into Tara’s side, landing knuckle on flesh firmly enough to draw a groan from the Scottish woman. It was also enough to draw a rebuke from her in the form of a slap and grab of the breast again, the slap forcing it onto the underwire of the cup again before fingers kneaded it harshly. Jemma moaned again, the pain clear in her voice as was the urgency in her actions. She cut off Tara’s taunt of “just submit girl, and let him have his way with you!” with two hard punches to the body and as Tara sagged just a little from the hard shots, she shifted her hips expertly, coupled with a well timed pull on the hair to jerk Tara to the side, Jemma was able to roll Tara off her so that the two women were side by side, lying facing each other on the mat. There was no break in the action from that position though; both continued to attack. Tara took a handful of red hair quickly to go with the handful of breast she already had, and pulled hard to try and reassert herself. Jemma took it, and grabbed harder at Tara’s hair in return as each lay there looking at the other before Jemma put her free hand to good use now, starting to just hammer punches into the jet haired woman’s body. At the same time, both ladies started to kick at each other, an inaccurate scruffy exchange at first, as shins met shins in a painful stalemate. Tara worked her fingers hard in Jemma’s breast, taunted her as they ley face to face “that’s right….scream bitch….then you’re getting fucked!” as Jemma couldn’t help but moan loudly in pain.
It brought a moment of clarity though as well and she stopped flailing her legs, drawing them up closer to her body now. Tara smiled, reading it for the defensive move of a woman in trouble, hurting, worried about what was coming her way when she had to submit. She had misread Jemma’s intent though; her knees raised up to her chest gave her the angle to send a telling blow into the belly of Tara. Delivered with force, but also that element of surprise on her side, Jemma drew a loud gasp as her heel helped to expel the air from Tara’s body for the moment. Crucially for Jemma, it broke off the jet haired Scot’s twin attacks on breast and hair to give her chance to roll free as Tara went to more of a foetal position, trying to suck air in.
Jemma got to her feet, looming over Tara for a moment before she dropped heavily again with an elbow drop that caught Tara as she lay on her side, arms clutching her belly. She groaned as Jemma grabbed her long jet black hair, wrenching her head back painfully before slapping her face as she lay partly across her. “Only one person getting fucked here today bitch….” Jemma told Tara, an edge to her voice, before she controlled her to her feet and pushed her in the chest so that her back hit the wall. A chop lashed across Tara’s breasts, threatening to lift them from her black bra as it landed before Jemma followed up with a thigh strike to the body. That was another breath snatcher for Tara who recognised that she was in some trouble late in this opening 10 minute period now. As she sagged forward, she wisely grabbed a hold of Jemma in a loose bearhug, trying to tie her up. It worked, to a degree, but only for a moment before Jemma jerked a knee up between Tara’s legs, her thick thighs just about saving the Scot from the very worst of the strike as they took some of the momentum off Jemma’s strike.
It didn’t slow Jemma up though. She shrugged off Tara’s loose embrace, and slid a hand between her legs to lift her as she turned back towards the mats. Tara tried to fight against her, but Jemma controlled her before planting her on the mats with a body slam. Now Tara groaned again, struggling to catch her breath from the heavy impact, and Jemma wasted no time in attacking again. She dropped heavily on to Tara’s body now, straddling her stomach as she landed, and quickly looked to move up for her favoured face sit pin. Even with time starting to run short in the opening session it was still a chance to force a winning submission if she completed the hold, something recognised by Tara as well as she folded her arms to form a defensive barrier across her chest. Jemma pushed at her arms, trying to force them up above Tara’s head so that she could complete the move, but finding the barrier hard to move. She huffed, and started to work on breaking that barrier down now, slaps to the arms first of all, then going to the unprotected target of Tara’s face to land half a dozen stinging slaps there instead. The Scots woman held firm though, even as Jemma tried to move her, just shifting her defensive shell a little higher to protect her face. Jemma sunk straight into her breasts instead, a combination of slaps and mauling making the jet haired fighter cry out in pain. Time was running low for Jemma if she wanted the face sit, she had to make her move now, or bide her time until the next fall.
She chose to attack, and did so with some skill, holding on to Tara’s arms to keep her in place before she quickly shifted around that defensive shell into a reverse face sit instead. Not perfectly applied, the position of Tara’s arms preventing Jemma from getting her knees totally on to Tara’s shoulders, and the Scotswoman squirmed, trying to get free. Now Jemma spread her legs a little, using more weight on Tara’s face to control her and the fight entered the last moments of the first round with Jemma in control, but not total control. She wasn’t rolling her hips in her usual style, a sure sign that her fight was more about just controlling Tara at this stage as the jet haired woman struggled beneath her. Her emerald green covered crotch rode on Tara’s face, covering her nose well, but not quite well enough to complete the smother.
“Mmmfffff!” Tara moaned now, frustrated at the ending to the first period of fighting, but not panicking, even as Jemma set about working her over a little with a couple of punches to the body. The jet haired Scot knew that time was running low, so she concentrated on controlling her breath, as she redhead hammered away to her body once more. Jemma took a quick look at the time, and realised that the round was almost up. She took a leaf out of Tara’s book now, pulling her left breast from her black bra before massaging it firmly with the heel of her hand, down Tara’s body so that it brought the underwire of her bra into play, then she pulled back sharply with her nails hooked into the underside of it, enjoying the gasp of “cunt!” that it drew from Tara at the end of the round. The timer sounded, Jemma was forced to break her holds with a little pat of Tara’s bare breast that very much said I’ll be back for that later….and the two broke apart to take the seats occupied by their respective fighters during the action.
The seats were close together though, giving no room for any secret coaching from either second. Instead, it lent itself more to the two sniping at each other across that small distance.
“Keep your smelly cunt off my face bitch!” Tara shot angrily at Jemma.
“You should get used to it. It’s where you belong against me” Jemma smirked. She was enjoying bringing this edge out of Tara.
“Should have finished me when you had the chance. I’m going to cunt you now!” Tara told Jemma. It was delivered quietly though, a woman in control of her emotions enough to be enjoying the verbal exchange with her bold young opponent.
“Oh that’s a good one!”Jemma chuckled. “I always wondered what than meant exactly when someone said it….is it something you can do when someone is sat on your face then?” she teased, poking at her opponent’s psyche again.
“You’ll see bitch” Tara shot back, suggesting “Maybe you should take that thong off and let me show you”.
‘Sure….you take off your bra and let me at your tits and I’ll take my thong off. What do you say to that?” Jemma suggested. She didn’t wait for an answer, just stood up and handed her thong to Beth when she’d taken it off. Beth just smiled, a little excited to see this ultra confident side to Jemma, even as she worried that it might backfire.
“Cocky little cunt” Tara replied, her face hardly able to hide her excitement at the way Jemma had responded to her challenge. She stood too, unhooked her black bra, and allowed Alan to remove it as she told him “there might not be much left of her to fuck after I’m done with her!”
“I heard that” Jemma told her, “and you get me whatever state I’m in if she wins” she said, speaking to Alan directly. “But she won’t. I’m going to use her face as my own special fuck toy now” Jemma confidently said, smirking as she saw the twitch in Alan’s trousers.
“You fucking cunt” Tara replied, a little anger rising in her voice.
“So….lets fight then” Jemma suggested, strutting confidently back on to the mats, finally replacing her breast back in her green lace bra as she did so. “No rounds now..no breaks. Just until you submit” she said, emphasising the word you; in her mind, it would be Tara who would fold first now.
“You’re on you cheeky little cow” Tara agreed, quickly joining Jemma on the mats to get the fight started again. Topless against bottomless, jet haired against redhead, Scotland vs England. What really mattered was that it would be woman vs woman, with no quarter asked or given in a single fall now to settle things.
There was no need for the timer now, and Jemma certainly wasn’t waiting for the signal to start as she landed a stinging slap to Tara’s breasts before Beth and Alan had even retaken their seats. Tara struck back, copying Jemma’s line of attack for now, the three quarter cup bra giving her plenty of sensitive flesh to strike at too. Neither backed up now, circling and landing those slaps which neither really looked to defend before Jemma dragged her nails a little on one of her strikes. “Bitch” Tara hissed, but she forced Jemma to take evasive action now as she swung a kick, aiming low and forcing Jemma to thrust her hips back to avoid it. In turn, that brought her upper body forwards, straight on to a European style uppercut from Tara. Delivered with the forearm, it was legal, not that Jemma was the kind to complain anyway, and carrying all of the force of a punch, it rocked Jemma straight back upright. Tara surprised her then by targeting the breasts rather than going for the pussy now, lashing a chop across Jemma’s D cups, threatening to pop them free of her skimpy bra again. Jemma was reeling, although she reached for and secured the hair to keep Tara close to her for now with one hand tangled up in her jet black hair. Tara responded, not fighting Jemma’s hair pull for now and instead sinking both hands into Jemma’s flame red locks so that she could quickly rush her back to the wall.
It seemed to be a favourite approach for Tara, as Jemma felt her body pressed to the hard surface by the powerful Scot once again in the fight. She raised a knee, a little defensively, catching Tara in the stomach, then she gasped as she felt Tara’s fingers searching for her pussy almost immediately, forcing her to defensively shift her body with haste. In reply, Jemma whipped a punch in to the side of Tara’s left breast, enjoying the grunt that accompanied the sound of knuckle on flesh before she shrieked as she felt Tara’s nails tracing a path roughly across her stomach. Of course, it was a plan to try and get her to shift her body position again and give up her pussy to attack; she didn’t comply of course, instead sending another punch into the side of Tara’s breast.
“Bitch” Tara moaned at that. She slashed her nails across Jemma’s body again angrily raising furrows across her pale skin. “Bitch” Jemma moaned in return, her fist balled up to strike again only to get beaten to the punch with a short one to the belly from Tara now.
“Give me that cunt, you little slut” Tara berated in her ear, leaning into Jemma to press her to the wall now, her knee jerking up between Jemma’s legs to test her resolve in defence.
“FUCK OFF” Jemma replied, her real response being to sink nails into Tara’s left breast in a maul that she knew was hurting the jet haired Scot. It was there in her eyes, mixed with determination she had to admit, when she looked into them. Despite that close attention, she didn’t see the sharp punch that Tara forced into the tight gap between their bodies coming, and the surprise strike just took her breath away for the briefest moment. Tara moved quickly now, shifting her grip to send Jemma up and over her hip to the mat, a fast, almost seamless movement that ended with a heavy landing. Tara was on her too, a pinning position with her hips jackknifed to the side a little to just open up the left side of Jemma’s body to attack, something that she did with glee, landing some sharp punches to the belly before Jemma grabbed her jet black hair, pulling her down defensively on top of her. Still the punches landed, a little less force behind them, but a distraction from Tara whose legs searched for a grapevine to spread Jemma.
“No, you fucking don’t!” Jemma cried out, forced in to a quick defence again with her legs raised up in the air to avoid the grapevine. If Tara spread her, then she knew what was coming next; after all, the Scottish fighter had told her very clearly of her intent.
“It’s going to happen sooner or later bitch” Tara confidently told Jemma, just starting to pump punches in to Jemma’s body at a steady tempo. Each punch on it’s own wasn’t so hurtful, but as one followed another, Jemma was already feeling pretty thankful for that work Andrea had put in with her strengthening her core; so far it was just about helping her to shrug off the punishment. She knew, as she groaned away with each punch as it landed, legs held crossed in the air, that she had to shift Tara off her or she would be worn down and trapped in the end no matter how long she could hold out for. As if to remind of that, the jet haired woman’s fingers played across her lower body, pulling and picking at the skin, before meeting the currently impenetrable banner of Jemma’s thighs, crossed tightly to protect herself. A punch went in low to the belly now, accompanied by a high pitched grunt from Jemma, and a first discernible lowering of her legs, only for a split second.
“You getting tired little bitch….soon they’ll be feeling heavy” Tara told Jemma, sending in another punch low the body. Again, Jemma groaned as it landed and it started to look like it was the Scottish woman very much calling the tune in the fight. “Then you’ll bring them down and let me spread you….a little whore with her legs spread wide” she taunted.
“Nooo” Jemma moaned weakly, putting that on a little as she realised that Tara was right if she wasn’t able to escape soon enough, but she wasn’t quite as weak as the Scottish woman thought yet either.
“Yesss” Tara smirked, then added “think how it’ll feel when he’s fucking you after I’ve cunted you!” as she sent another punch in.
It was time to try and counter Jemma knew, a now or never situation where she would have to embrace the risk of being fully trapped to give herself the chance to escape. “I still don’t know what the fuck you’re on about bitch” Jemma mocked, earning herself a stinging slap to the face in return. It was perfect timing for her, and with Tara’s attention just momentarily diverted, Jemma dropped her legs, planted her feet to the mat, and pushed off, twisting her body as she thrust her hips, hoping to roll Tara off her. There was a moment of concern for Jemma, borderline panic in fact as it looked like Tara might just ride the attempt out, delivering a heavy slap to Jemma’s body. Just as it looked like a crucial mistake had been made, adrenaline kicked in for Jemma, fuelled by that brief moment of desperation, and as Tara looked to send in another blow, she was suddenly rolled off Jemma to the side by a burst of energy. Now though, Tara was the quickest to react having been working Jemma over for a while, and she rolled clear, not wanting to give Jemma chance to use her feet to turn the momentum of the fight. Instead, she was quick to her feet, catching Jemma half was off the mat by her red hair, and immediately used that grip to throw Jemma across the mats. As Tara brushed the strands of red hair from her fingers, Jemma moaned and rolled so that she was looking directly at Beth, and she smiled at her girlfriend. Unseen by Tara or Alan, it was all Beth needed to see to know that Jemma was about ready to strike.
Confident now, Tara came in, grabbing the hair and pulling as she told Jemma “come here bitch!” Then the air exploded from her body harshly thanks to one perfectly placed punch to the pit of the stomach from Jemma. A punch that carried enough weight on it’s own, it’s effect was almost doubled by the surprise factor, and while Tara clutched her body, Jemma rose with an uppercut to the breasts, setting Tara’s C cups swinging for a moment. It was time for Jemma to show off her ability to go along with her toughness and she didn’t disappoint.
Tara found herself waist locked and barely had the time to protest “hey!” before she was lifted into a punishing atomic drop. The pussy pounding impact, one leg either side of Jemma’s outstretched thigh, was enough to bring a look of pain to Tara’s eyes, just before her lips voiced it. A straight fingered thrust to both breasts, led by Jemma’s nails, was enough to send Tara to the mat in a degree of pain. Jemma was on a roll for a moment, grabbing the jet haired woman’s ankles to spread her legs and drop to her knees with a headbutt to the crotch. She was surprised, despite the blow apparently landing cleanly, to find Tara trying to trap her head immediately in a head scissors, threatening momentarily to engulf Jemma’s face in her crotch. Then she shrieked as she felt Jemma’s thumb in her ass for a moment, her scissor hold broken open easily now. “Slut” Jemma remarked, slapping Tara’s breasts, and then she lunged for her move of choice, the reverse face sit. This time she didn’t meet any defensive barrier formed by Tara’s arms, such was the speed she moved at. She did find Tara’s face shifted partly to the side in instinctive defence though, and found herself sat heavily on the jet haired woman’s cheek to start with.
That was no great problem for Jemma though, she had time on her side as she made sure she had the Scottish fighter’s arms trapped beneath her legs first of all. She knew that if she accomplished that, hen she would have free reign to attack Tara’s body and in particular her bare breasts, something that she did quickly. A fas ferocious flurry of slaps pancaked both of Tara’s breasts repeatedly as the harsh sound of palm on breast filled the room with it’s report. Tara cried out in pain from that and it intensified as Jemma dug into the underside of both breasts with her nails. “You fucking witch!” Tara complained.
“Whatever” Jemma shot back, her fingers continuing to work Tara over. “Submit” Jemma suggested now, “save yourself from the smother!”
“Fuck off you little brat!” Tara replied, trying to bridge to roll Jemma off her before the redhead stopped that quickly with a punch to the body.
“Witch? Brat?” Jemma spoke now. “Fucking talkative for someone in trouble aren’t we?” she suggested, hooking her nails into Tara’s breasts again to hurt her. The marks from her work there were increasingly clear on the pale breasts of the jet haired woman. “You’ll shut up when your face is covered by my naked arse!” she teased, further adding “I know you want it!”
That only served to make Tara struggle all the more, each bridge or squirm met with Jemma’s fist only serving to tire her out more. In between those attempts to bridge free, Jemma would sink into her breasts again, drawing increasingly long cries of pain from the Scottish fighter who found herself simply unable to get free. Another punch hit her in the belly, a red mark getting raised by the accurate aim of Jemma’s punches to drop her back flat to the mat. “Submit!” Jemma told her again.
“You’ll need to hurt me first bitch” Tara told her defiantly in reply.
“Sure, OK” Jemma told her in reply. “I could do that….or I could just smother you” she declared. Tara’s face may still have been turned to the side at that point, but the way Jemma had punished her meant she was ill prepared to resist the sudden harsh hair grab that Jemma used, in close to the scalp, to turn her head so that her face was presented just perfectly for the face sit now. Just as she had promised she would, maybe even threatened, now Jemma’s naked ass and pussy covered Tara’s face perfectly. “Just like you wanted!” Jemma laughed now; she had total control of the situation, and she started to roll her hips, grinding herself on Tara’s face. “Mmmmmm” Jemma moaned, “now is that how you cunt someone?” she enquired. “Is it done with your nose in someone’s cunt?”
Tara kicked her feet, she squirmed, she bucked and Jemma just spread her legs that little bit wider to make sure she rode that bit heavier on Tara’s face. Still the grinding motion continued, Jemma knowing that her scent now filled the nostrils of her opponent as her lungs slowly moved on to their reserve tank of oxygen. Tara was a tough woman, it was clearly very evident to Jemma, but she was going to submit very soon Jemma knew. She had stopped resisting, stopped trying to break free, and was just in the process of admitting to herself that she had lost to the younger redhead who was now just grinding on her face. It might have been that realisation that brought the submission in the end; the face that if she didn’t give up soon, Jemma would most likely cum on her face. Her hands tapped frantically at the mat suddenly in submission, and Jemma rolled off her to the side, a change in her attitude towards Tara immediately as she stroked the Scottish woman’s arm for a moment as she just made sure she was OK. Then she walked over to Beth for a victory kiss before remarking to Alan “sorry, I guess you don’t get me, but you really don’t need me. She’s smoking hot, she’s really all you need. Trust me.”
He looked on a little open mouthed at this piece of wisdom from Jemma, who just smiled and grabbed Beth’s hand to lead her from the room as she said “I think we’ll leave you two to it for a while!”
Beth chuckled as they went downstairs before they reached the room they’d used to prepare for the match in. “You’re some sort of relationship counsellor now then babe?” Beth smirked.
“I guess….I don’t know. I mean, isn’t it super obvious that you’ve got a hot woman that will fight for you, then you really don’t need anything more?” she shrugged.
“It’s always been that way for me, since I first met you. I knew you’d fight for me, in more ways than one” Beth smiled as she kissed Jemma.
“And now you’re a big girl who fights for herself too!” Jemma gushed in reply.
“Mmmmm….I guess I am” Beth agreed, as she kissed Jemma again, then asked her girlfriend “so you’d like it if I fought for you too?”
“I can’t think of anything I’d find hotter!” Jemma agreed, returning the kiss as the two lovers practically melted on to the bed in the room. Jemma’s victory had been impressive, but one look at the woman on the bed with her reminded her just what it was that she always really wanted. She was looking right at her.