Nok leaned forward over the brown-stained enamel sink and checked her makeup critically in the cracked, rust-speckled mirror that hung on the bare concrete wall behind it. She rubbed her full, pouting lips together and smacked them once or twice to ensure her bright red lipstick was evenly distributed.
Straightening up, she looked herself up and down, and felt as she always did, the slight disappointment, the envy, the resentment at the body with which fate had provided her, and all that had ensued from it. She knew it was wrong to feel that way, that it was against the teachings. Brought up as a Theravadin, she knew about the kilesas, the defilements, and knew what she was embracing. But she also knew it was far too fate to break that cycle now.
All her life, she had been the big girl, the fat girl, continually teased by the children in her home village. That had changed somewhat in her early teens, when her breasts had blossomed, similarly proportioned to the rest of her. From then on, the boys had stopped teasing her and their attentions had been of an entirely different kind, but the teasing from the girls had only gotten worse, tinged with real envy.
5’3” and scarcely 110lbs, she knew that she was not ‘fat’ by any stretch of the imagination, but there was a difference between knowing it in her mind, and feeling it in her heart. Telling herself something, even over and over again, could not silence the demons of her childhood. Even now, she sometimes heard the cruel voices of children in her dreams, taunting her, calling her kwai, the buffalo.
She surveyed herself one more time in the mirror. Her jet black hair was parted in the middle and fell to just above her shoulders, framing her heart-shaped face, small up-turned nose and big, brown, almond-shaped eyes. Her skin was a uniform golden brown that emphasized the bright yellow of her tiny string bikini. The little triangles of faintly sheer fabric barely covered the shaven mound of her sex, and hugged the generous curves of her rounded breasts. Her smooth bare belly was firm and marred only by some faint stretch marks, a legacy of her son’s birth.
Her son, though she loved him dearly and missed him desperately, was another cruel trick of fate, a punishment for her sins. Chased by the boys of the village with the hormonal intensity only teenage boys can muster, she had eventually grown tired of refusing and succumbed to the good looks and amorous intentions of a neighbor’s son. From that first fumbling encounter, he had grown more skilled and she too had learned the ways of his body and her own. Her reluctant acquiescence had soon grown to enthusiastic contribution, and she reveled in the new-found pleasures of her body.
Barely three months after she had begun having sex with him, just after her seventeenth birthday, she had missed her period and discovered, to her horror and her family’s shame, that she was pregnant with his child. There had been no question about the correct course of action. Their parents had decided, and they were married four weeks later, just as her pregnancy was beginning to show.
She and her husband had begun married life with his parents in the family house, but money was scarce, tensions had soon grown, and they had decided to move to the city to make a better living for themselves and their son. As they soon discovered though, the boy was asthmatic and the polluted air of Bangkok was more than he could take. So they took him back to the village, where he lived with her parents while they worked and sent whatever money they could.
They had barely known each other though, neither of them mature enough and their relationship never strong enough to handle the strain of being away from home, the twelve hour work days and the constant money pressure. They had been doomed from the start. He had started drinking heavily, spending much of their money before he even came home. One night, he had not come home at all. That had been six months ago. She had not bothered to look for him.
The money pressures had gotten worse without his income though, and she had struggled to pay the bills and send enough money home. Finally she had mentioned her troubles to her newfound friend Cha who, after dancing around the topic for a while, had offered to get her a waitressing job at the bar where she worked.
That first bar, like most others in Bangkok, turned out to offer a lot more than drinks. It was a go-go bar situated in the notorious Nana Entertainment Plaza, in Sukhumvit a few miles from her apartment. The place featured two stages where girls danced in brief bikinis or topless for the amusement of the patrons, mostly Western businessmen and tourists. She, Cha and the other waitresses had kept them supplied with drinks while the dancers flirted with the men, sat on their laps, rubbed lasciviously against them and then disappeared with them, sometimes for a few hours but more often for the entire night. “Customers want a girlfriend for the night,” Cha explained it to her. “They buy us food, we get to sleep in a nice hotel…it’s a good life.”
“We?” asked Nok, picking up on her friend’s words.
Cha laughed. “There’s one special one. You haven’t met him yet.”
Nok was shocked when she found out how much the dancers earned. Even as a waitress she was making almost 50% more than she had earned at the factory, but the girls who danced made almost twice as much again, and that was only for dancing. If they found a ‘boyfriend’ even three of four times a month, they could double their salary. Nok found herself mentally calculating – with that much money, she could send enough home to really take care of her parents and her son, and have enough left over for some small luxuries. She thrust the though out of her head. Greed, she knew, was the first and worst of the ten defilements.
Several of the dancers urged her to go onstage. Her unusually curvaceous figure had gotten attention from a number of men even in the demure black skirt and white blouse she wore as a waitress. At first she had refused such advances with a bashful blush, but then with gradually increasing reluctance.
It had taken her two months to work up the courage, two months of constantly thinking about the money she could make and what it could do for her family, two months of looking at the skinny dancers with their narrow hips and tiny breasts. At last she had borrowed a white bikini and taken to the stage, staying in the middle of a group of dancers, shuffling about, her face red with embarrassment.
She looked at herself in the mirror now, her breasts jutting out brazenly, her dark nipples pressing at the fabric of her bikini top, and thought about how far she had come in a mere three more months. That first night, she had worn a baggy t-shirt over her bikini whenever she was not on-stage, and kept to the shadows until it was her turn to dance again.
That very first night, a man had beckoned her off the stage. She had pretended to ignore him but two of the other dancers pushed her forward, and at last she dismounted the stairs from the stage and went over to his table. He was American – tall, fair-haired, and smelled faintly of red meat, as so many farang did. He was polite though, buying her a drink, chatting pleasantly, only furtively staring at her body. When he put his arm around her and she felt the firmness of his muscles, she remembered all too vividly how long it had been since her husband left, since she had had a man. She found herself thinking of what it would be like to have this man’s body pressed against hers, to have him inside her. She had heard the girls talking in the locker room, and farang were supposedly much bigger than Thai men. She wondered what he would feel like, and she blushed as she realized how much she wanted to find out.
Even now her loins clenched tight as she remembered that night in his hotel room. He had showered as she waited for him under the covers, and then had slipped into bed beside her, taking her tenderly in his arms, reassuring her as he gently coaxed her past her anxiety to arousal, and to full-blown passion. She blushed as she remembered the livid bruise her teeth had left on his upper arm as she had bitten him hard to keep from screaming with joy in the throes of that first orgasm.
She resisted the temptation to touch herself now, through her bikini bottom, and turned away from the mirror, looking over her shoulder to check out the rounded curves of her bottom, plentifully exposed by the high-cut bikini. Satisfied, she turned away and ducked through the curtain that separated the dressing room from the communal bathroom immediately beyond. A man stood at a urinal, his back to her. She ignored him and made her way out into the crowded, noisy bar where the rhythmic thump of a techno version of ZZ Top’s Legs shook the air.
Circling the central stage, she barely spared a glance for the dancers gyrating their almost naked bodies there. Two months ago she had looked at them in envy, jealous of their bodies, their confidence and the money they made. Even a week ago, she had felt inadequate next to them – bigger, heavier, nowhere near so attractive despite what the men seemed to think.
That first farang – his name was Michael – had kept her with him for five days and when he left, she could barely believe the amount of money he slipped into her purse as she kissed him goodbye. It was more than she had made in a month as a waitress – far more. When she came back to the bar the night after her left, Cha and some of the dancers were happy for her, but many of the others were much less pleased. The name calling started – the dreaded kwai word was even uttered once or twice. She knew they were only jealous, but that didn’t help. They were slender and beautiful, and she was a kwai. Her envy toward them outstripped theirs toward her. Alone in her one-room apartment that night, she had cried herself to sleep. Only the money she had banked the next day made her feel slightly better, but even that feeling was greed in itself, and just another defilement.
A week ago was the first night in almost a month that she did not have customer, and she had to endure the taunts of those who remained with her in the bar at closing time. They conveniently forgot that they too had not managed to find a boyfriend for the night, but that did not stop them taunting Nok cruelly.
Cha had whispered to her, “Go to Thermae, you’ll find someone there,” and when she followed that simple advice, fate had thrust itself upon her yet again. Two khatoey had decided to pick on her and she had finally lost her temper, destroying them both in a fit of fury that had left her shocked. As it turned out though, that very act scored her a man for the night, and one she would like to see again.
(See here:
http://www.freecatfights.com/forums/index.php/topic,14331.msg83447.html#msg83447 for that story)
She had not noticed at the time but Khun David, the owner of the bar where she worked, had been in the Thermae that night, and had seen the possibilities in the power of her fists. He had offered her half a month’s wages to fight a girl at the bar, and another half month’s worth if she won. It had taken her merely a heartbeat to accept.
In the days between then and now, she had considered changing her mind at least a dozen times. She knew she had a temper. She had fought it all her life. Her mother had thrashed her for punching other children who called her names. Even her father had whipped her once. She knew it was wrong to fight, that to give in to her rage as she had done that night at the Thermae was the worst of all defilements. Every time though, the thought of the money held her back, and she despaired. With it, she could save her family.
But at the same time, she would damn her soul.
Fights such as this were illegal, at least so far as anything was illegal in this city. If the police found out, they would shut it down or at least demand a heavy police tax, thereby cutting into Khun David’s profits. For this reason, and so as not to disrupt the regular business of the bar, this fight was to be held in the old loading yard, at the far end of the alley between Soi Nana and Soi Hah. Nok slipped out through the rear entrance of the bar, the hot humid night air immediately raising a sheen of sweat on her caramel skin. She took a deep breath and strode purposefully down the alley.
As she turned the corner at the end and emerged into the yard, she was surprised to find it ringed with men, some farang but also many Thai. There must have been a hundred or more, standing two or three deep around the edge of the yard, leaving a broad, clear expanse of hard-packed dirt in the center. The weak yellow lamps mounted on the walls had been supplemented by floodlights on poles, bathing the entire area in light. Nok spied Khun David on the far side, and he beckoned her over, holding up a finger. “Soong minit,” he yelled over the clamor of voices that filled the yard. “One minute.”
“Who do I fight?” asked Nok. She looked somewhat apprehensively around the yard. She could see no other women, only men.
Khun David smiled. “Pheetying farang,” he said. “A foreign woman.” Nok raised her eyebrows. He pointed back toward where she had entered. “Go to the middle. Wait there.”
Nok turned away and walked across the yard to the center. She noticed the earth had been swept clear of stones and other debris. That was good. She glanced around her at the crowd of men, carefully avoiding eye contact, feeling extremely nervous. She tried to tell herself that this was no different than dancing on the stage in the bar, but that did not help the butterflies in her stomach. She felt naked, and it had nothing to do with her brief bikini.
There was a commotion at the far end of the yard, as two men pushed their way through the crowd and hurled a shrieking, struggling woman into the clearing. She sprawled on her face, a cloud of long blonde hair spilling around her head. Pushing herself up on her elbows, she swept her hair off her face and stared at the crowd around her with horrified eyes. She drew her knees under her and rose, standing looking around her like a caged animal.
She was slightly shorter than Nok, an inch or two at the most, solidly built but not fat, with ash blonde hair that reached to her waist. Nok could see why Khun David would want her to fight this one. Thai men found blondes a novelty and would pay handsomely for the prospect of seeing one beaten. Nok knew she could – would – beat this woman.
The farang’s blonde hair was loose and fell almost to her waist, covering her forehead in bangs that hung to her faint blonde eyebrows. A true blonde, thought Nok. She had never met such a person. She wondered where Khun David had found her and coerced her here. It was obvious she had not come willingly.
Her blonde hair framed a rounded, pale face, now streaked with tears. She was dressed in a white tank top and black jogging shorts that showed off her figure. Her breasts were small, even by Thai standards – much smaller than Nok’s. Her waist was narrow, her hips broad, her legs well-defined and muscular. She was built like an athlete, thought Nok. She would be fit, no easy opponent.
Khun David walked over to Nok, and pointed to the westerner. “Destroy her.” He nodded at the crowd, who were already shouting and cheering, impatient for the spectacle to begin. “Give them a show, and we’ll both be rich.” He indicated four buckets placed around the edge of the arena. A few men were already dropping cash into them.
Nok stretched her arms high above her head, making her breasts lift, pressing them tight against the fabric of her bikini top. Several of the men cheered, and she felt a momentary thrill. They were cheering at her – for her. Her pulse began to quicken. She would give them a show.
She strode over to the farang, who still stood looking fearfully about her, shuffling her bare feet. Grabbing the blonde by the upper arm, she spun her around, noting as she did so, the other woman’s firm musculature. “Hello farang,” she said in heavily accented English. She let her eyes rove down the woman’s body, then up again. Her lip curled in a sneer. “Are you girl, or boy?” The blonde blinked at her, unable to understand her words over the shouts of the crowd.
Nok gave her no chance to think about it. Her other hand speared into the woman’s hair and she stepped backward, heaving hard. The blonde screamed in shock and pain as she was flung in a circle. Nok released her hold and the farang spun away from her, across the arena, and slammed backwards into the circle of men. One of them grabbed at her, cupping and squeezing her breasts. The rest of the crowd roared. She screamed anew, struggling to free herself from his encircling arms. Somebody else shoved her roughly back into the open space.
“Where you going, heah?” laughed Nok, beginning to enjoy herself. A far-off voice somewhere inside her cried out that this was wrong, that she was becoming the bully that she had always hated. She shoved the thought out of her mind. “Come back and play!” Stepping forward, she reached out and grasped the girl by the shoulder straps of her tank top.
The blonde grabbed Nok’s wrists defensively, crying out in fear and confusion. “Stop it! Let me go!!!”
Nok tore her right hand free, stepped in and jerked the blonde toward her as her fist rammed up into the other woman’s belly. The farang folded over Nok’s fist with a gasp of pain, clutching her stomach. “Stop!” she wheezed, her voice barely audible above the raucous clamor of the crowd.
Nok ignored her. She thrust her hand into the westerner’s hair and pulled hard. The farang shrieked loudly and her hands flew from her belly to her head as she grabbed again at Nok’s wrists, stumbling forward. Nok twisted to her right, jerking her victim forward and driving her right knee up hard into the same spot she had just punched. The blonde let out a strangled scream MMWWUNNNGHH!!!! Nok flung her away again. She stumbled and fell, rolling over in the dirt.
Nok’s skin glistened in the lamplight. Sweat stained her bikini, turning it transparent, her dark swollen nipples clearly visible to the watching men who shouted and clapped their appreciation. She turned and raised her arms above her head, inwardly shocked at her own shamelessness as she paraded in a circle for their enjoyment.
“Get up, nah peeh!” she sneered at the farang. There was a roar of laughter from the onlookers at her ‘ghost face’ insult. She spat on the ground in the girl’s direction. “Hee mah!” Dog pussy! The laughter redoubled.
The blonde pushed herself up on one knee. Her hair was tangled, her clothing smeared with dirt and one strap of her tank top had slipped off her shoulder. She raised her tear-stained face to Nok, just in time to meet Nok’s foot as it smashed up under her chin. Her mouth clicked shut with a loud crack as the force of the kick lifted her bodily off her feet, flinging her over backwards to the ground. The crowd erupted in a deafening cheer.
She lay there, groaning, her hair spread around her in a cloud. Her head lolled to the side. The men’s cheering quickly faded and turned to jeers. Nok walked over to her fallen adversary and shoved her roughly with her foot. “Get up!” The girl groaned and raised her knees, but made no attempt to rise.
Nok spied a movement off to the left, and turned her head to see one of the attendants approaching, carrying a metal bucket, water slopping from it onto the ground with each step. She stepped back, trying to keep the crowd entertained, showing off her body in the sheer, sweat-soaked bikini as he lifted the bucket and tipped its contents over the farang. She shrieked at the sudden deluge of cold water, and the watchers laughed as she rolled onto her belly, drawing her knees under her. Water dripped from her long hair as she pushed herself up onto her knees once more. The water had soaked her tank top, making it almost as transparent as Nok’s bikini. It clung to the girl’s skin, revealing the contours of her small breasts and the dark shadows of her nipples.
Khun David stepped up beside the blonde. He pulled her head up by her hair, tilting her face up to his own as he leaned down and spoke to her. Nok could see his hostile expression but could not hear his words. The blonde looked up at him fearfully, then turned her head in Nok’s direction. Khun David jerked her back toward him. He said something else to her, then flung her down into the puddle of water that surrounded her. He motioned to Nok – continue.
The blonde dragged herself up, bracing herself with both arms as she rose to one knee. Nok leapt toward her, ready with a kick that would land the farang on her back again. The girl glanced up through her dangling hair, but instead of the fear that Nok expected, a blaze of anger burned in her eyes. “Bitch!” she screamed, and burst to her feet like a runner out of the starting blocks.
Momentarily taken aback, Nok faltered and the blonde crash tackled her, her shoulder driving hard into Nok’s stomach just above her navel. Carried backward by the force of the farang’s charge, she fought to keep her feet, struggling for breath through the pain that felt as though her innards were being driven out through her spine. Kee! The bitch was strong!
She tripped and fell backward, going down hard on her back with the blonde on top of her. The back of her head pounded into the hard ground and she cried out in new pain, her vision blurring, stars appearing before her eyes.
The farang scrambled astride Nok’s waist, still shrieking obscenities in English. Nok pulled her arms up to protect her face but she was half-dazed, her movements slow and uncoordinated. The blonde’s clenched fist smashed into her left cheek just under her eye before she could block it, snapping her head around to her right. The pain jolted her back to her senses though, and she fended off the next furious punch aimed at her mouth. The other woman merely switched targets to Nok’s unprotected body however, and a barrage of punches hammered into her belly and chest, making her writhe in pain, pinned under her tormentor.
She heard the crowd screaming with bloodlust, even louder than before. Shame surged up inside her. A moment ago they had been cheering for her. Now they were cheering the bitch who was mauling her so mercilessly. They didn’t care, she thought. They just wanted blood. Hers was just as welcome as the blonde’s.
Anger battled with the shame and pain inside her, but the pain was winning as the farang rained punches down upon her. Not all of them got through, but many did, and she drummed her feet on the ground in anguish as the blonde battered her relentlessly. Another fist smashed down into her left eye, and she felt it beginning to swell.
She rammed her knees up into the farang’s back, but the bitch seemed impervious to pain. Her only acknowledge was another snarl of hatred, and a vicious back-handed swipe across Nok’s chin. In desperation, Nok flattened her legs out on the ground, then drove them upward with all her strength. This time the blonde let out an UNGHH!!! of surprise and pain, pitching forward onto Nok, her hands instinctively reaching for the ground either side of Nok’s head to brace herself, giving the battered Thai girl a moment’s respite.
Nok knew it was not enough, but it was the only chance she had. She threw her arms wide and brought her fists upward and inward in twin hammer blows that crashed simultaneously into each side of her opponent’s head. The farang’s eyes glazed over for an instant, and Nok used that instant well, twisting her hands in the other’s hair, tearing with all her might.
The blonde screamed in pain as Nok pulled her head back savagely, her back arching, her chest thrust downward. Nok in turn whipped her head forward, slamming it up into the other girl’s chest, the only weapon she had to hammer her opponent. The farang had no real bosom to speak of, but her nipples protruded from her chest like bullets. Nok felt one in her mouth and bit down as hard as she could.
The girl’s shrill scream hurt her ears almost as much as the punches had hurt her face and body. Twisting her torso violently, the farang tore her nipple out of Nok’s mouth, going down on one elbow, her eyes clenched tightly shut, her teeth clenched in agony. Nok took advantage of that opportunity to rip even harder on her adversary’s hair, jerking her head to the side, slamming the heel of her other hand against the blonde’s ear and pushing up hard with her feet. She almost sobbed with relief as the girl’s weight came off her hips and the farang rolled off her into the dirt with a shriek of frustrated fury.
Nok rolled onto her hip, drew her leg up and hammered her heel hard into the girl’s chest, nailing her injured nipple and forcing another scream of pain from the blonde. The kick pushed them both away from one another, the farang rolling over on her back as Nok came to her knees.
The Thai girl took a moment to get her breath back. Her cheek throbbed, and every breath hurt from the punishment her ribs had taken. Dirt smeared her skin. She spat a gobbet of blood and spittle into the dirt. Her adversary was in no better shape however, breathing hard, clasping a hand to her injured nipple as she used the other hand to push herself up on her raised knee, gaining her feet and standing unsteadily.
Nok had only just begun to rise to her feet when the blonde let out a shrill shriek of hatred and flew at her, her fingers hooked into claws, reaching for Nok’s face. The Thai girl dropped back to one knee, leaning left and slamming her right fist up to meet the charging westerner. She was a little sluggish however and rather than driving into her adversary’s crotch as she intended, the blow crashed into the blonde’s lower belly just under the waistband of her shorts.
The farang grunted at the impact and hunched over, her face creased with pain, but her right hand still caught in Nok’s hair. Nok squealed as the force of the blonde’s charge jerked her head back. Her enemy spun behind her, and her other arm whipped across Nok’s throat, clamping tight.
Nok gasped at the painful pressure across her windpipe. She grabbed at the other woman’s wrist and tried to pull her away, but the blonde held on grimly, choking off Nok’s breath. Nok groaned with pain and effort as she pushed herself up to her feet, dragging her opponent up with her. She tried to twist her body to one side and open up the other’s body to her elbow, but she could not get the leverage as the blonde pressed close to her. Jerking herself violently from one side to the other, trying to shake the farang off, she felt her breasts bouncing against her chest, barely contained by her bikini. Her blood pounded in her ears, almost drowning out the bloodthirsty roar of the crowd. Black dots began to dance at the edges of her vision.
Desperate to fight her way free, she changed tactics, pushing backward against the farang with all her strength. The blonde back-pedaled and Nok forced her back another step, keeping her off-balance, giving her no chance to brace herself. Together they stumbled across the yard, the crowd backing up until it could back up no more, and suddenly they found themselves among the men.
Nok felt the blonde behind her crash into somebody, and there were mingled shouts of surprise, anger and amusement. She tucked her chin down, wrenched herself sideways and then threw herself backward again, hearing a breathless grunt in her ear as she crushed the farang between her body and one of the onlookers.
A hand grabbed Nok’s breast. She hissed in anger, then squealed as fingers pinched her nipple hard through her thin bikini top. Despite her predicament, she felt a shudder all the way down to her loins. A high-pitched scream of indignation from close behind her told her that the men were just as interested in groping the blonde. Another scream, and the grip on her throat slackened for an instant, giving her a chance to gulp a welcome breath.
Someone in front of her thrust his hand into her crotch, cupping her mound. She kicked out blindly, and the man leapt back with a yell, pulling his hand away. The farang struggled behind her, evidently undergoing similar manhandling, and her grip faltered again. Nok twisted her shoulders savagely, gaining enough room to ram her elbow back into the blonde’s belly. There was a satisfying groan from her opponent. She twisted back the other way and drove her other elbow into her enemy’s ribs. The pressure on her throat lessened still further, the blonde squirming and screaming as the men molested her.
Nok got her right hand around the other woman’s wrist and tore the blonde’s arm from her throat. Her left hand joined the right, twisting the westerner’s wrist over, pushing her shoulder up into the blonde’s elbow. Distracted by the crowd as they pinched and grabbed, the farang failed to pull herself away as Nok suddenly jerked downward hard on her wrist, over-extending the elbow viciously. The blonde screamed in agony. Nok hammered a final elbow into her ribs under her left breast, then released her wrist and fought her way clear of the crowd.
The onlookers had clustered in a tight knot around the brawling women, but backed away as Nok flailed at them. Finally she found herself in empty space, and whirled to confront her adversary again.
For a moment she could not even see the other woman through the knot of cheering, yelling men, but then the blonde burst out of the crowd. She had lost her shorts – one of the men behind her was waving them jubilantly in the air. She wore a pair of pink panties underneath, but even they had been tugged askew. She pulled them back into place as she lashed out at the last of the groping hands, sliding the strap of her tank top back onto her shoulder. There were tears of anger in her eyes as she advanced on Nok, cradling her injured arm, her face set in grim determination.
Nok went on the attack, and lashed out with her left fist at the side of the farang’s head, but the other girl ducked and the momentum spun Nok around to her right, turning her half away from her foe. The blonde lunged in, apparently forgetting her own pain. She grabbed Nob by the strap of her bikini top, jerking her savagely back to her right and slamming her fist into Nok’s chin. Nok cried out in pain and stumbled a step to her right.
The farang’s hand slid down to the cup of Nok’s bikini top as she wrenched the Thai girl back toward her. Nok felt her left breast pop free of the tight restraint. The crowd noticed and there were strident yells of approval. Her attention momentarily diverted, Nok took the blonde’s next blow full in the mouth. She groaned as her lips were smashed against her teeth. She tasted blood as she stumbled backward.
The blonde pressed her attack, slamming a fist into Nok’s midriff. Nok let out a gurgling cry and staggered, doubling over. The westerner took another step forward, thrusting her hands into Nok’s hair, jerking her forward and ramming a knee into precisely the same spot between the Thai girl’s navel and her ribs.
Nok’s knees buckled and she sagged to the ground as the crowd roared their approval. She battled for breath, her shoulders shaking, trails of sweat leaving runnels on her skin. Her bare breast flopped over her arm as she cradled her injured abs. Its twin, still cradled in her bikini top, was scarcely less exposed under the soaked, transparent fabric.
The westerner stepped in with a snarl. “Now you’re fucking history, you cxnt!” She shoved her hands under Nok’s sweat-soaked hair, wrapping them round her neck, pressing both thumbs hard into her throat.
Nok gagged, her eyes bulging, mouth opening wide, trying vainly to draw breath as her hands clutched at her tormentor’s wrists, trying to pull them away. Not yet recovered from the blonde’s choke hold, her throat sent spasms of pain rippling through her, her neck bending backward, staring up into the farang’s merciless smile. She made a plaintive, gurgling sound, slapping at the other woman’s arms. “Beg all you want,” sneered the blonde, “then die, whore!”
Nok could feel her limbs growing heavy. The blonde bitch was killing her, slowly and inexorably sapping her energy and her will. Mortal fear coursed through her, chilling her despite the fetid heat. Khun David had told her the reward she would receive if she won – he had not mentioned what would happen when she lost. How far would he let this farang demon go before he stopped the fight? Would he even do so? Nok did not want to bet her life on his mercy – and from the look in the blonde’s eyes, that was exactly what she would do.
Her son’s face flashed before her fading eyes. She had come so close to being able to provide for him, to help her parents in their old age, to make all the defilement of her soul worthwhile. Now, it was about to come to nothing. She would never see him again.
“Maaaaaaaaaiiiiiiiii!!!” Nooooooooo!!! Her scream of despair came out as a breathless gurgle. Her left arm hung limply over the westerner’s forearms, her right dropped to her side, but then blasted upward, beneath the blonde’s trembling arms, and slammed into the center of the pink triangle covering her crotch.
The westerner’s mouth opened wide in shock. Her entire body stiffened, head thrown back, hair whipping in a silver circle about her head, spraying Nok with her sweat. Her lips worked silently in a parody of a scream, though no sound came out. For a moment her hands maintained their death grip on the Thai girl’s throat, but then she let go, stumbling back and clutching her wounded groin, doubled over, whimpering in incoherent agony.
Nok sagged sideways, catching herself with one arm, the other rubbing her brutalized throat as she gulped air into her lungs. The baying of the crowd sounded far away, dwarfed by the rushing of her blood through her veins and the pounding of her heart. Her head ached abominably. She ground her teeth and cried out with the supreme effort of will it took to push herself to her feet, all the while terrified that somehow, against all reason, the blonde bitch would recover and come after her again.
When she finally lifted her head and swept her hair out of her eyes however, the farang was still doubled over, though incredibly she remained on her feet. Nok took a stumbling step toward her, moaning. The blonde shot out her arm, hand extended in a warding gesture, her head down, face hidden beneath the dripping curtain of her hair, shaking her head back and forth in a mute plea for mercy.
Nok was not in a merciful mood. Her knee drove up into the farang’s face with all the strength she had left. The westerner reared upright, hair once more whipping back over her head, a spray of sweat mimicking the spray of blood that burst from her nose and spattered across Nok’s thighs. The force of the kick lifted the blonde off her feet, and she crashed down on her back as the crowd erupted in sadistic ecstasy.
Nok stood over the farang, her chest heaving. Blood trickled from the corner of her mouth and dripped off her chin onto her chest. The cuts and scratches burned from the sweat that had gotten into them. Her throat burned, her left cheek throbbed and every muscle hurt.
The blonde glared up at her, and snarled through blood-flecked lips. “Dirty fucking whore!” she sneered. Nok noticed the sudden tension in her belly, just before the girl’s leg slammed upward between her own. She had no time, nor the energy to dodge away, but twisted her hips desperately to the side so that her thighs caught and trapped the farang’s foot, protecting her pussy. The blonde screamed in obscene frustration.
A surge of anger gave Nok new strength. The red fog of rage that had been lurking around the edges of her vision closed over her, and she let out a shriek of primal fury that momentarily silenced the crowd. Her legs bent slightly, before she lunged upward and hurled herself into the air, coming down with her feet together, both heels driving deep into the pit of the blonde’s stomach.
The farang’s head and feet whipped up off the ground, her face contorted into an expression of mingled shock and agony. Her mouth opened wide as all the air exploded from the lungs in a spray of spittle and blood that splashed across Nok’s already blood-speckled legs. Her arms came up to grasp at Nok’s legs but never got there, dropping weakly back to the ground as she collapsed like a broken doll. Nok stumbled backward, off the girl’s ravaged belly, recovering her balance after a step or two. Her legs shook with the effort it had cost her. She could hardly stand.
Incredibly, the blonde still did not give in. With infinite slowness, she rolled onto her belly, forcing her arms to lift her, trembling with the effort as the crowd bellowed like a maddened animal and Nok looked on incredulously. What did it take to keep this blonde bitch down? She struggled inwardly for a moment, then gave in and let her own hate-filled inner demon have its way. “How do YOU like it, cxnt!!!” She stepped forward and swung her foot, sending it crashing up between the blonde’s legs, slamming into her loins, pitching her forward onto her face with a final scream of agony. She twitched once and then lay still.
Nok gave a hate-filled scream and leapt at the beaten blonde. Her foot slammed into the farang’s ribs, the force of it lifting her and flipping her over onto her back. Her arm flopped feebly in the dirt, but other than that she lay motionless. Nok did not let up though, screaming out once more as she kicked at the girl’s ribs, and then again at her head. She was drawing back her foot for another blow when Khun David wrapped his arms around her in a bear hug from behind, picked her up kicking and shrieking hysterically, and flung her away. She hit the dirt on her side, rolled and lay there panting, her chest heaving, as the red haze slowly faded from her mind.
The pounding of her heart and the burning in her lungs finally eased to the point where she could breathe somewhat normally. She rolled over, painfully, and realized her breast was still hanging from her bikini top. She wearily tucked it back into place. Her skin was flecked with blood. She was not sure how much of it was her own. Slowly she pushed herself to her feet. Her throat was on fire, swollen so much she could barely breathe.
She turned to Khun David, who was watching his two assistants collect the buckets of tip money from the corners of the yard. “Why did she start to fight so hard?” she asked in a croaking whisper. “At the start she was just scared and not fighting at all, then she was like a tiger. What did you say to her?”
Khun David smiled. “She thought she was being sold to the Arabs for the sex trade. I told her she could win her freedom if she killed you.”
Nok gaped at him. “You would have let her kill me?”
His smile said nothing. “You’re still here…and you’re a lot richer.” He nodded toward the overflowing tip buckets. “Ten percent of that is yours.”
The demon in Nok roared its approval. Nok herself did not know whether to be happy, or very, very afraid.
THE END
