What a difference a year makes. In their first confrontation, Penny and Max were talented amateurs...the Nebraska-bred farm girl and the big city lass, both wildly brawling with little rhyme or reason, until one of them (Max) narrowly emerged as the winner.
But since their introductory match, each had gone on to many more battles with others, and both emerged as highly skilled apartment wrestlers. Now, in their long-awaited rematch, they were no longer merely two hair-pulling hellions. Rather, they dueled one another with a seamless array of complex holds and maneuvers.
The end result, however, was much like their first fight...they fought to a veritable standstill, with neither beauty able to seize the advantage once and for all.
As anguish and exhaustion threatened to overwhelm both women, it suddenly appeared as if Penny might be on the verge of victory. Both battlers faced one another on their knees, their milky skin mottled with scratches and bruises and soaked with sweat, their hair tangled manes. They were trading slaps, when suddenly with a roar, the blonde balled her fists and put everything she had into a flurry of punches. Her blows sunk deep into the brunette's belly, and Max's bountiful bosom were like speedbags as Penny mercilessly flattened them time and again with her fists. Tears streaked down the New Yorker's cheeks as she endured the pounding. Finally, with all that she had left within her, Penny threw a right cross that cracked across her rival's jaw. Max's head snapped violently to the side with a shower of sweat, and her glazed eyes went blank as her body swayed in preparation for collapse.
But then she shook her head, a glimmer of fury igniting in her glassy orbs. "That the best you got?" she rasped in a hoarse whisper. And then, as if drawing strength from her own pain, she unleashed a blizzard of punches of her own. The blonde moaned and mewled under the onslaught, as now it was her own belly and breasts which were viciously hammered. Penny fell to her back, but that did not halt the withering attack, as the brunette sat astride her hips and continued to bury her fists into the quivering flesh beneath her. Penny burst into tears, too spent to fight back, but too proud to submit. But that suited Max just fine...she wasn't interested in drawing a verbal surrender.
Finally bringing an end to her assault, her leaden arms hanging limply at her sides, the East Coaster lowered her torso down upon the face of her West Coast nemesis, the sweat forming an airtight seal. Penny squirmed beneath her tormentor, but to no avail. The brunette gave a wicked grin as she felt her rival grow weaker beneath her, driven into the humiliation of unconsciousness by the New Yorker's more magnificent breasts.
Soon enough, Penny lay still, her tear-filled eyed shut, her reddened face a mask of slumbering distress. Her chest heaved for breath as Max lifted herself up off of her. With effort, the utterly spent brunette managed to get up to her feet to accept her victory, symbolically pressing her left foot down upon the beaten girls' bare breasts. Hands on her hips, Max looks down at her conquered foe and sneers, "If you ever dare challenge me again, I won't go so easy on you. Next time, I'll destroy you, you blonde slut!" She gave Penny's breasts a parting stomp of her foot, drawing forth a whimpering mewl from the semi-conscious blonde, and then Max strut out of the room, to the accompanying applause of the spectators, triumphantly.
