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The Calendar Club

By Wolfboy

Jemma meets Miss May

“So where are we going to go again?” Jemma asked Beth. “And who am I fighting? I mean, is it a genuine thing?” she asked her girlfriend.

“It’s a place I learned about while we were in Texas last year babe” Beth told her. “It’s called The Calendar Club, and it’s over in Fort Worth. It’s not all that far away from where we stayed in Dallas” she explained to Jemma, who had looked a bit flummoxed about where that was exactly.

“Oh….I see” Jemma said, although she didn’t really. Not just yet.

“So this place it like an old fashioned night club I guess you’d call it” Beth said. “But the thing is, it’s really a catfight club with a twist. They have 12 house catfighters and each one is named for one of the months of the year. They’re the calendar girls I guess. And you’re going to fight Miss May babe. She’s the one I chose for you” Beth told Jemma now.

“And it’s a real catfight?” Jemma asked. That was her primary concern with it.

“100% real, one submission, anything goes catfighting. There’s two fights a night and the club is open three nights a week. So the calendar girls fight maybe every other week on average” Beth explained. “They’re kind of pin up girls in their looks, but they can fight, and they have to so that they can defend their position as a calendar girl” Beth explained.

“Sounds cool. So do I get to be a calendar girl if I win? And why are we going all that way to America just for a fight?” Jemma asked.

“You don’t, because you’re just going to be challenging her to a fight, not for her job. You have to be able to commit to the schedule to challenge a calendar girl for her job, and obviously you can’t do that right now. And why go to America? Well that bit’s simple enough” Beth smiled. “You want to rip that Southern Belles title from Toni, then you’ve got to be a bit better known over there. Texas is in the Southern Belles territory. Hell, it’s Toni’s backyard. It’ll get you noticed” Beth declared.

“That’s a good point” Jemma agreed. Then her face took on one last look of concern and she asked “do you think it’s safe? Remember how that bitch attacked us with her goons in that adult pro wrestling match. I don’t want her going after you like that again babe” she told her girlfriend.

“Well thank you for looking out for me hun” Beth smiled at Jemma. “But this one is perfectly safe for a couple of good reasons. One is that you know just where Toni and her crew are this week” she told Jemma, who looked uncertain that she did know that at all. “She’s wrestling in that tag match at the same arena where you wrestled Lesa on the same day you’re going to fight at The Calendar Club. So while she’s there, we’re going to be five thousand miles away” Beth pointed out. Jemma looked happy about that fact too. “We have an insurance policy too” Beth told Jemma a little cryptically.

“Well, you’re going to have to tell me more” Jemma told Beth at that. “You can’t just be giving me half a story!”

“What if I told you that Sara has someone closer to Toni’s inner circle right at the moment? Someone that can tell us what she’s up to most of the time now….” she said to Jemma.

The redhead wracked her brain for a moment, trying to think who this could be, and then she smiled. “Anna?” she asked, recalling how the pro wrestler had been forced to join with Toni again after she had lost to her.

“Couldn’t possibly say…” Beth smiled.

* * *

Three days later, Beth and Jemma were backstage at The Calendar Club in Fort Worth, more than aware of the raucous crowd who were out front enjoying the first of this evening’s two fights. Jemma was fighting in the nominal main event of the night after Miss January, a stunning platinum blonde, had been forced to defend her position against a local woman in what had obviously been a real knock down, drag out, fight. Finally, Miss January had returned to the backstage area, victorious and clutching her opponent’s brown bikini top as a prize, to a hug from backstage manager Mrs Frost. A classy brunette, dressed impeccably in a white cocktail dress and heels, Mrs Frost didn’t look a powerful woman, but she carried herself with such confidence and poise around a room of tough women, that she had to have been a fighter herself. And she spoke with an English accent the girls had been surprised to find when they arrived and Mrs Frost had vetted their suitability. There had been a brief look of fleeting recognition from her and Jemma too. Jemma was convinced she’d seen the woman somewhere before, maybe in a fight she’d seen. Mrs Frost knew exactly who Jemma was of course, but that was something she’d sit on for now.

It was almost time, and Beth would have to leave Jemma to her own devices to face Miss May. In a one fall fight, there was no real call for a second anyway, and the mats being tightly surrounded by those in the crowd who had paid the most for their seats meant that there was no real space for anyone at mat side anyway. Woman to woman, one on one, was how The Calendar Club operated. Beth gave Jemma a good luck kiss and left the backstage area to stand in the shadows at the back of the club. Away from the mats, the club was dimly lit Beth noted quickly, perfect to protect the anonymity of those in there watching, while at the same time, focussing everyone on the brightly lit square at the centre of the club. It was a clever design, though Beth doubted whether anyone in there really needed to have their attention directed to the centre of the room once the action began.

There was a brief break between the two fights on each evening, time to allow drinks to be refilled, before the action would pick up again. And that time was now as the tide of spectators moved back towards their seats. In a few short moments more, Jemma was out there, making her way towards the mats, the bright lighting catching her perfectly as the redhead stepped on to the mats. Jemma had chosen tonight to wear lingerie in a vibrant emerald green colour, with just a hint of glitter woven into it’s fabric, a move that paid it’s dividend under the club’s lighting. Jemma looked every inch the star, her athletic yet still curvy body enhanced by the shimmering satin thong and three quarter cup longline bra that she wore. On her legs, she wore nude fishnet hold ups that had some diamanté sent into the criss-cross pattern as well. She waved out to the crowd, knowing that Beth was out there somewhere, as she acknowledged their welcome to the mats for her. Then she paced slowly on one side of the mats, waiting for her opponent Miss May to come to the mats. The tune Calendar Girl by Neil Sedaka played now for a moment, the traditional entrance music of all twelve of the club’s fighters, before Jemma was joined on that brightly lit square of mats by an exquisite looking blonde, her long hair, slightly tinged with a light brown, cascading from beneath a black Stetson. She wore a simple sky blue bikini, thong backed Jemma realised as Miss May turned away from her for a moment to take off her hat and place it on the head of a lucky member of the first row of the crowd. Then she took her place back on the mats, for the first time eyeing Jemma up and down with interest, to work out just what she was up against.

“Ladies, Gents, we have our second fight of the evening now. One submission, anything goes, to a finish as is the custom here at The Calendar Club. First we have our club favourite, from right here in the great state of Texas, 5 feet 8 inches, 154lbs, 35DD-25-38 with 22 straight wins here at The Calendar Club, please welcome the magnificent Miss May!” the announcer called out. Miss May was indeed a popular one with the crowd judging by the reception she received. Jemma realised that 22 straight wins meant the blonde was so much more than the achingly pretty face that looked appraisingly at her across the mats. “And we have our challenger, a visiting fighter from England, out to make a name for herself at The Calendar Club. 5 feet 7 inches, 152lbs, 36D-24-36, with 19 wins and 5 losses, please welcome the spectacular Jemma!” the announcer called out. Jemma received a warm enough welcome too, even if it was kind of clear Miss May was the crowd favourite, and that was OK she knew. It wasn’t a problem to fight the local favourite if it came to it, and catfight crowds always came round to you more if you fought well. “This is a challenge match. Miss May’s position at the club is not up for grabs. Both ladies have requested there should be no ref, no rules and no time limit. They will know when one submits, the other is a clear and uncontested winner. So with that in mind, ladies, begin!” the announcer finished, stepping from the mats and melting into the darkness amidst the crowd. Jemma and Miss May were alone in the spotlight on that brightly lit square of blue wrestling mats now at the centre of the club for the first time, each moving out to circle with the other.

It was inevitable that a feeling out process had to take place now first of all. After all, neither of these two women really knew each other, and one look at them as they circled each other slowly showed just how well matched they were physically. Miss May moved with the grace of a cat; a big cat at that, one that was primed and ready to do her damage. Something she proved quickly, darting into range to lash a slap across Jemma’s belly before getting herself out of harms way. The sound of hand on belly drew a gasp from the crowd gathered there as it crashed home, but there was no real response from Jemma. In turn, Jemma looked slightly the more powerful of the two, moving with a grace of her own, but lacking maybe a little bit of the speed of Miss May. She had more than enough speed though to catch her with a sharp kick out to the body when Miss May tried to skip back into range a second time. Again the crowd gasped a little, seeing the forceful attacks mustered already by the two battling beauties. Indeed, Jemma and Miss May were perhaps the least taken aback by the action so far; they were the two women that were there to fight and knew best what to expect after all.

The two blows landed were enough for the appraisal to be complete for each women though. They knew the other was a serious opponent from the blow taken and given. It was simply time to fight and for the next several minutes, they would treat their audience to a beautifully feminine war.

With the feeling out process done quickly, both moved in on the other as if by some sort of agreement, and latched on to the hair with both hands, going almost forehead to forehead in a glorious tangle of blonde and flame red curls. Now each tried to push the other around the mats and impose their will, only to find that each time they gained a pace, they quickly lost it to an equally strong willed opponent. Neither had expected that anything else would be the case. The ante was upped by Jemma quickly, with a knee to the body that was taken by Miss May and immediately returned with interest by the blonde. Both women felt the knees as they took them, but their thought was to counter attack immediately. Jemma kicked to the thigh, then tried to tangle her right leg around Miss May’s left to trip her to the mats. Miss May was fleet footed enough to untangle herself from that potential predicament quickly before sending a sharp kick into the inside of Jemma’s thigh in reply. Jemma knew enough to know that could be the prelude to the blonde trying to widen her stance so that she could send a kick right up the middle into her pussy and immediately she moved forwards to deny the space for such a move. Now, with their bodies in close together, it may have looked like a loving embrace to the uninitiated, but it was nothing of the sort as each tested the roots of the other’s hair with fierce double handed hair pulling. Then the slaps and punches started to fly with little thought of defence, each keeping their left hand firmly anchored in the hair and using their right to strike at the openings offered to them by that tactic. Jemma tattooed Miss May in the ribs, then swung again, sending the second punch into the side of the blonde’s breast. Miss May slapped Jemma’s face hard, a blow that would surprise any woman. One that a woman not sure about the idea of fighting might well have shirked away from, but Jemma ate it up and was ready for the second slap when it landed, taking that without flinching too.

Both went back to the hair with both hands again for the moment, gripping tightly near to the scalp, letting the other woman feel the sensation of their nails there as they did so. Still the action had barely moved a pace from the centre of the mats in any direction as heads were forced back by those harsh grips of the hair. Then the knees started again, Jemma grunting just a little as Miss May caught her flush on the waistband of her low cut thong. She gathered herself, having taken the blow well enough though, and fired back with a knee to the side of the blonde. That drew a groan too, and Jemma showed a crafty side to stand on Miss May’s toes then, just grinding her heel in a little to give the blonde cause for some concern. In close proximity still, thanks to the hand tangles in each other’s hair, Jemma looked to take advantage now, hoping to scoop Miss May up with a hand between her legs, but Jemma found the blonde blocking her, feet set squarely on the mat, before she clubbed her over the shoulders with a heavy forearm smash. Jemma was staggered, just enough, just for a key moment that allowed Miss May to send another well targeted knee into her body, landing again right on the waistband of her thong. This one had the redhead doubled up, despite the work she’d done with Andrea on strengthening her abs, and the grip the blonde still had of her hair tightened, holding her in place for a knee lift to the breasts which sent her to the mat on her back.

Jemma gasped, but she was quick to try and roll away and get to her knees, only for a kick to come in from Miss May, landing to her body, and knocking her back flat to the mat, this time on her belly. Miss May was a local woman, had worked at the rodeo amongst other things, and above all else, she’d learned how to fight around that environment. She wasn’t about to let Jemma find her way back to her feet without a fight, sending another kick, this time into her breasts, as Jemma reached all fours. In the darkness at the back of the club, Beth was watching on, feeling anxious for her girlfriend, but also that guilty sensation of seeing the woman she loved in a tough position in a match that turned her on, as Miss May launched her 154lb frame on to her in a flying splash. Jemma groaned on taking that, but she was surprised to find that Miss May wasn’t the kind of woman who wanted to grapple and fight on the ground just yet. Instead, she wanted to pull hair and get Jemma back to her feet to dish out some more punishment there, and her fistful of flame red locks helped her with the first part of the equation. She took a right hand to the body from Jemma, thrown powerfully enough, though Miss May shrugged it off and used the hair to keep Jemma doubled forward enough to send two slaps into her face, delivering them with an uppercut motion.

Jemma felt those as the palm of Miss May landed right across her nose and mouth hard, stunning her a little, but she shot back with a slashing right hand across the blonde’s belly, this time dragging her nails there.

“Fucking bitch” Miss May complained, though her tone was hardly accusatory, knowing she would do the same. All was fair in this catfight environment. She just sent another of those slaps up into Jemma’s face; the way she had the redhead folded was still a problem for Jemma right now.

“Mmmfff” Jemma groaned as that slap landed hard again. It was a problem for her if she took too many of them, and she slashed her nails across the tanned and toned body of the blonde again. That looked like it might have earned her some separation as she forced Miss May off her, but the blonde used that space well, sending in a kick that landed in Jemma’s thigh, just making her unsteady on her feet once more. Then the blonde closed back in for another furious exchange with Jemma. She ran into Jemma’s raised knee, more a defensive measure from the redhead than an attacking move, though it caught Miss May in the body as she landed a slap to the face. The slap seemed the more telling of the initial blows, but now both women traded them, heavy slaps swung at head and body, landing with little thought of defence, as skin was reddened by the other. Now Miss May used her nails to great effect, delivering a heavy slap to the top of Jemma’s right breast, and dragged them there.

“Bitch!” Jemma moaned, though she fired back, sinking a right hand into Miss May’s body, then smoothly grabbing the front of her bikini thong, she used it to pull the blonde into a waist-lock. Before Miss May had truly had the chance to rail against it, Jemma had lifted her in to what the blonde thought was going to be a bearhug, only to find herself dropped astride Jemma’s outstretched thigh in a pussy pounding atomic drop. The blonde groaned, eyes betraying the sudden pain brought about by that shock landing, and she found herself defenceless enough to be swept up and off her feet, straight into the body slam that Jemma had tried once before. The mats had no give in them beyond the degree that they compressed as Miss May landed on them, and the local woman was winded. Jemma showed the difference in technique between the two fighters as well now. Where Miss May had been reluctant for the fight to become a grappling catfight on the mats, after delivering a splash across the blonde’s body, Jemma welcomed just that, staying on the ground and securing a cross pin of sorts so that she could slap away at Miss May’s bare stomach. These were no gentle slaps, not flicked out with disdain but instead landing with real force on the toned body of Miss May who grunted and groaned to accompany the sound of each one landing. Then she tried to strike back, a couple of slaps landing on Jemma’s back and side before she really found her range and started to send them into the back of Jemma’s head.

It was time for Jemma to make a choice; should she stick or twist? She chose to twist, quite literally, following a heavy right hand to the belly with her first breast maul of the fight, the cruel twisting action of her fingers making Miss May cry out loudly in pain. “Wanna submit?” Jemma asked her, quickly getting her reply in the form of another of those heavy slaps around the back of the head, even as Miss May moaned in discomfort from the breast maul.

“Bitch!” Jemma moaned as the blonde’s palm clipped her around the back of the head again.

“Bitch!” Miss May moaned, feeling the redhead retaliate by just strengthening and reworking her breast maul some more. Attritional fighting, down on the mat, was likely to favour the woman with top position though Jemma knew. She sunk two heavy right hands into Miss May’s body, before she dipped her head a little lower to keep it away from the worst of those slaps to the back of the head, even though they still came as she now shifted Miss May’s bright blue bikini top aside to get her hands on her DD cup breasts once more. The blonde let out a cry of pain as Jemma went back to work on her, then she gave the redhead something to think about once more as she wrapped her hand in flame red locks and tried to divert it into one of her breasts for an attempted smother. While it was largely ineffective, it did give Jemma something to have to defend against as she felt the sharp pain in her scalp from the harsh hair pulling as Miss May tried to move her face closer to those impressive breasts. Jemma struck to the body again, worked the breasts harshly to make Miss May cry out in pain, but she moaned herself at the same time from the strong hair attack from the fighting Texan blonde. It was clear enough to Jemma that the status quo wasn’t going to get the job done; she moved for a face sit instead, hoping to get her favoured finisher on to Miss May. She knew the relative toughness of a girl mattered little when she couldn’t breathe after all.

That strong grip Miss May had of her hair proved to be a problem now though for Jemma. As she moved for the face sit, she found herself anchored just short of her desired target. Then a sudden well timed bridge from Miss May set Jemma off balance, enough so that the grasp of her hair could be used to send her off the blonde and to the mat. Miss May rolled to her knees quickly, crucially still with her hand buried in Jemma’s hair so that she could used that to introduce Jemma’s face to the mats before she had her wits about her enough to really defend against it. Now it was her turn to be in trouble, dazed by the harsh move and Miss May moved on to the attack, whipping two heavy forearms across Jemma’s back, before she scratched her there, making Jemma shriek. Pressing home an advantage, Miss May trapped Jemma in what looked like a pro wrestling scarf hold, crossing the redhead’s arms across her own throat to force her up to her knees. It was just a means to an end though for Miss May rather than her desired move, and she just used it to position Jemma to lash a kick across her lower back, pitching her forward to the mats. Miss May followed her down this time as well, delivering an elbow drop of sorts to Jemma’s lower back, before going to her hair to wrench her chest clear of the mats. “Aaagghhhh!” Jemma moaned loudly, feeling the burning in her scalp from another powerful hair pull from the blonde. “FUCKING BITCH!” she cried out.

“Submit then bitch!” Miss May advised her, her Texan drawl getting more pronounced as she put Jemma under pressure it seemed.

“Fuck off” Jemma moaned, the pain in her scalp distracting her for the moment from the way Miss May deftly unclasped her bra behind her back, releasing the tension there that had held Jemma’s D cups under control up until that point of the fight. It looked like Miss May had Jemma set up for some sort of camel clutch perhaps, but instead she used that strong grip of flame red hair to force Jemma up to her feet, knowing that the flying hair mare that followed immediately was going to be more than enough to complete the job of removing her bra. In the battle of a redhead whirling through the air and two shoulder straps there was predictably only one winner with the heavy landing seeing Jemma parted from the bra. Miss May followed up quickly again, her style always to capture her opponent on the ground when she could. This time that came with a handful of flame red hair again, taken just as Jemma got to her knees, to hold her in place for a kick to the body. Jemma tensed her abs to take it, but she groaned as she found the kick dangerously close to breaking through the resistance her muscles could mount as it crashed home. Then she shrieked as Miss May punched and then grabbed her right breast, using her harsh grip of the sensitive flesh to force Jemma up to her feet. Beth was watching on with increasing apprehension, realising that whatever the battling blonde beauty had planned for Jemma, it wasn’t likely to be good. She walked her out to the centre of the mat, the grip of the hair keeping Jemma’s head down, even as she fought against it and sent a punch into Miss May’s body. From the awkward angle though it lacked enough snap and power to really force Miss May off her, before the blonde delivered a headbutt in a cascade of flying blonde hair, connecting with the back of Jemma’s head to knock her on to her knees in a daze.

Miss May was on a roll it seemed, and she nudged her hip forcibly into Jemma’s back to pitch her on to her front on the mat. Miss May had control it seemed; she certainly felt that way as she sauntered to the edge of the mats and plucked her hat off the head of the crowd member to put it back on her own head. The Texas cowgirl was ready it seemed, to try and put Jemma away with her face sit submission, and a girl should be dressed properly for such a matter in her mind. She twirled her hand around her head as if to signal “here we go”, then peeled Jemma off the mats to lift and body slam her hard at the centre of the mats. Jemma moaned, just bridged up very slightly, and was flattened to the mats as the blonde Miss May sat heavily on her breasts, still wearing her hat from which her blonde hair cascaded. It was a high schoolgirl pin that immediately got higher as Miss May pushed one of Jemma’s hands to the mat above her head and shifted forward a little more, so that her crotch was on Jemma’s chin, just teasing her with the face sit that was to come. “I’m going to ride her like she’s my favourite mare at the ranch!” Miss May told the crowd, drawing a cheer from them. Jemma was well trapped it seemed, one arm between the mat and Miss May’s left leg, the other held to the mat; the American redhead would have done well to note the lack of panic and true concern in the eyes of the redhead though.

Instead, she shifted forward, and completed the facesit as Jemma bridged a little and took a slap to her body to drop the bridge as she elected to conserve her breath for now. Miss May had one hand on her hip, her crotch covering Jemma’s face, and a confident look on her face that meant she largely ignored Jemma slowly working her right arm free from beneath her left leg. In her mind, there was little the redhead could do from this position. Tap out or pass out were the options Miss May had in mind for Jemma; she was totally unprepared for the third option, eat her way out!

With her hand free, Jemma didn’t use it to attack Miss May, not directly anyway, realising such an attack would likely be brushed off by the tough cowgirl. Instead, she used the chance to pull the blonde’s bikini thong to one side, and then with no hesitation she started to eat her pussy like her life depended on it. While that might have been quite the exaggeration of the situation, Jemma’s ravenous style had a quick impact, drawing an immediate loud groan from the surprised blonde who had fell total control only seconds earlier. Now she was having her pussy eaten by the very woman she’d felt total control of, and the surprise was palpable for her. Miss May’s body betrayed her with a shudder as the pussy eating started to get to her just a little. “Hey, quit it bitch…..mmmmnnghhhh” Miss May whined now, tossing her head slightly as a wave of pleasure built in her. Jemma continued to work her magic between her legs, starting to contemplate her true plan of escape. She knew she had Miss May distracted, but was it enough? Either way, she couldn’t stay in the face sit indefinitely; it was time to make her move.

Jemma thrust her tongue that little bit more forcefully into the womanhood of Miss May, teasing the blonde’s senses with sexual overload, then she swung her legs up and hooked her feet under the armpits of the blonde. Now there was that moment where the attempt, and perhaps the outcome of the fight, hung right in the balance. Miss May realised the redhead’s plan belatedly and tried her best to resist it, leaning forward a little, knowing that if she trapped Jemma like this, the folding facesit might just get the job done. Both woman moaned and groaned, the effort they were putting in troubling each almost equally. Now there was a moment of concern, almost panic, for Jemma. Miss May was a strong determined woman, and it seemed she’d almost ridden out the attempt by Jemma to dislodge her, despite the added challenge of Jemma’s pussy eating to distract her. “Got you now, little slut!” she said, looking down on the top of Jemma’s head, given that the rest of her face was largely engulfed by her crotch and ass. It looked to be true, and there was a definite concern for Jemma as her pussy eating started to slow; she needed air, and the surge of adrenaline from that feeling of desperation came just at the right time for her to use in another attempt to get free. Maybe Miss May was guilty of relaxing just a little as she felt she’d regained control, maybe that wasn’t the case, but with a final surge of energy, Jemma straightened her legs and levered Miss May back off her, trapping the blonde on her back with her ass pointed to the ceiling.

“You were saying?” Jemma quipped, as she pussy whipped the blonde with her right hand to make her cry out in anguish before she pushed Miss May out from between her legs and got to her feet. She quickly took advantage of the momentarily prone blonde to send a kick into her breasts, and then as the Texan reeled from that, she peeled her from the mats by her long blonde hair. As Miss May’s Stetson fell from her head, Jemma was all action, punishing the blonde with a heavy forearm smash to the breasts followed by a slap to the face that sent the blonde reeling away from her. Jemma followed, raking her nails across the blonde’s bare back to make her shriek in anguish again. It wasn’t all one way traffic though, not just yet, as Jemma snatched Miss May’s hair from behind and the blonde dug an elbow back to catch her low in the side. Jemma gasped, but she was able to keep control, sending a punch into the blonde’s back, then pushing her foot in to the back of the blonde’s knee, she sent her down to one knee in front of her. A claw was applied by Jemma, to Miss May’s shoulder, looking like a nerve hold from pro wrestling, but this was no staged hold as Jemma’s nails sunk into Miss May’s skin. Again, she tried the elbow, but with Jemma’s body pressed in right against hers from behind, it caught Jemma pretty ineffectively in the hip this time.

“Aaagghhhh….oooowwwww!” Miss May moaned, feeling the cruel claw hold even if it wasn’t a move to force a submission. Jemma knew that, not even asking the question as she grabbed Miss May’s hair with her free hand and simply rubbed it into the blonde’s face to irritate her. “Hey! Stop it bitch!” Miss May protested, trying another ineffective elbow in reply. Then Jemma cruelly delivered a knee between her shoulder blades to send a jolt of pain through the blonde’s body. Jemma moved quickly now, not wanting to give Miss May time to regather herself; the action so far had told her that the Calendar Club girl was one tough fighter. She went to the hair, the choice of any self-respecting catfighter, to assist a groaning Miss May to her feet, before she spun her to face her, slapped her face and then immediately lifted and body slammed the blonde. This was a heavy landing on the relatively unforgiving surface of the mats positioned at the centre of the Calendar Club, and Jemma took just a moment to measure her as she took a leaf out of her mother’s book of catfighting, spreading the legs of Miss May, before she delivered a cruel crotch crushing knee drop to bring a complete look of shock to the blonde’s face that was accompanied a moment later by a loud shriek of total anguish as the pain hit her.

Jemma had her, it was clear to see, and the crowd cheered for the redhead now who had got control of the calendar girl, and wasn’t about to relinquish it. Beth found that at the back of the club in the darkness, she had sat forward, eager to see just how Jemma would finish the blonde off. She expected that it might be the facesit, but then part of this fight was about sending a message to Toni, so would Jemma remember that important fact in the heat of the battle she wondered?

First of all, Jemma wanted the largely compliant blonde up so that she could lift her once more, this time to deliver an agonising across the knee backbreaker to take the last vestiges of fight out of Miss May. Holding her across her outstretched thigh for a second or two, Jemma smiled into the darkness, knowing that Beth was out there somewhere, watching. Then she clubbed Miss May’s belly with a double fisted blow, and shoved her off her leg to the mat. Now, Jemma picked up the blonde’s hat from the mat and put it on her head to a cheer from the crowd before she stood astride her back and waited for her to just struggle up to all fours before jumping up and crashing her butt down in to the middle of her back. Flattened on her belly again, Miss May didn’t get the chance to consider stirring again as Jemma dropped down to straddle her back. Before the blonde really had chance to react and work out what Jemma would do, her arms were pulled back on to Jemma’s knees, setting her up for a camel clutch, one of Toni’s favoured finishing holds.

She clasped her hands beneath Miss May’s chin now, applying the hold in it’s traditional form, rather than fish-hooking the blonde as the current Southern Belles champion so often did. Jemma leaned back though, making the blonde groan loudly in pain from the well applied hold. “Nooo!” Miss May replied to the obvious question of if she wanted to submit, though the pain was clear in her voice.

“Don’t fight it...just submit” Jemma suggested again, just ramping the pressure up a degree or two more. She had no desire to hurt Miss May, but the blonde Texan was tough and wasn’t just going to give up easily. “Nooo!” the blonde reiterated to prove that fact.

Jemma had the answers for her stubbornness though, and while she could have just kept stretching Miss May until she finally broke, she had a better plan. She replaced the traditional camel clutch hold that she’d had in place on Miss May with a sleeper-hold, well applied, tight to immediately make the blonde realise she had a real problem now. Her feet thrashed at the mat for a moment, desperate to find some kind of purchase to let her burst free of the pretty devastating hold. She could find nothing of the sort though, and Jemma had her in total control, able to wait out the few moments longer before the sleeper started to just cut in on the ailing blonde. “I submit!” she said, quietly but firmly, feeling no shame in admitting that Jemma was the better woman for today. Jemma eased her out of the hold now as gently as she could and stood to take the cheers of the crowd as she was announced the winner. She was, she realised now, still wearing the blonde’s hat, and she took it off before offering her hand to help Miss May up.

The American woman viewed the hold with suspicion for a moment, then shrugged, realising Jemma’s intentions were actually genuine before she took the hand and got to her feet.

“Good fight” Jemma told her, “You’re a tough one!”

“Thanks, I enjoyed it, but you….had too much for me I guess” Miss May told her as she raised Jemma’s hand in victory before the two topless fighters left the mats together, Jemma putting Miss May’s hat back on for her.

It took Beth a few moments to find her way to the backstage area again, picking her way through the crowd who all sounded pretty impressed with the fight they’d seen, and importantly, Jemma’s performance. After she’d hugged Jemma, and Miss May who seemed none the worse for the match, she was quick to tell Jemma that’ she’d impressed the crowd. “They really loved it, and they’re all talking about you out there” Beth told her girlfriend.

“So I got noticed?” Jemma asked her, “I mean, that was the idea, right?”

“I think you did” Beth told her. “They’re talking about it, and that’ll get back to the Southern Belles in the end I’m sure” Beth smiled.

“Oh they’ll see it alright” someone said to the girls, from behind them. They turned to find it was Mrs Frost, the backstage manager of the club. “Southern Belles always have people here watching. Some good fighters come through the club. Some of us stay...”she said to them. “They’d be fools not to watch what happens here.”

“Well that’s great” Jemma smiled. “That was part of our plan all along” she admitted.

“Oh don’t worry, I knew” Mrs Frost said. “I know why as well. Well, you’ve earned this anyway” she told Jemma, handing her the winners prize money for her fight.

“Thanks” Jemma said, taking the envelope. “I’m sure I know you from somewhere?” she asked.

“I’m pretty sure we’ve never met” Mrs Frost told her, and then she turned to walk away before finishing over her shoulder “but your mother...I’ve met her a couple of times” and she walked away before Jemma or Beth could ask her any further questions.

“Well what do you make of that?” Jemma asked Beth, a little confused. “I feel like I need to know more now!” she told her girlfriend.

“I know!” Beth said, but Mrs Frost was gone, into her office at the end of the room with the blinds drawn too. There as no way they were going to find out more today Beth realised. “I guess maybe she fought your mum, or else at least that she was there a couple of times when she fought someone else maybe?” Beth mused. “Mrs S Frost….” she said out loud, a little absent minded.

“What’s that babe?” Jemma asked her.

“Oh….nothing really Jem. Just wondered what the S stood for” Beth said.

“That’s easy…..Secretive!” Jemma smiled. Beth could only agree with her. For now, the identity of Mrs Frost, and what her connection to Emma was would stay a secret. But as they left The Calendar Club, at least Jemma had done enough to catch the eye of the Southern Belles organisation, and by default, their champion, Toni.