Here is a new one hope you enjoy. there could be a sequel if there interest .
Jasmine, I’m 5’9”, 130 pounds, 34D, straight black hair, European and Korean heritage, and excellent body art. I’m in my early 20s. I have quite an "Ecliptic style" in style and sex. They are pretty open, and that has its problems in relationships.
Roxie is 5’7, 125 pounds, 36C+-22-34, a 22-year-old senior in college with short Red hair. Yes, someone is going to get hurt for real. That is the objective of fighting. She had many female lovers and was not a superwoman. When she fights, she likes to fight other women to satisfy her personal lusty needs.
The Art of Submission
There was a young woman named Jasmine in the bustling heart of the college town, where the cobblestone paths whispered tales of youthful ambition and the ivy-covered buildings stood tall as silent guardians of knowledge. She had a penchant for the unconventional, her style as eclectic as the pattern of her European and Korean heritage. Her straight black hair often fell over her piercing eyes, hinting at the enigmatic depths beneath her carefree smile. Her body art, a canvas of inked expressions, spoke volumes about her openness to the world and its complexities.
Her friendship with Roxie had blossomed in the fertile grounds of their junior communication class. With her fiery red hair, a dash of rebellious spirit, and a figure that could make heads turn, Roxie drew others in with her magnetic charm. At 22, she was a senior who had seen her fair share of love and loss; the confidence that came with experience was palpable in how she carried herself. Despite their differing backgrounds, their shared zest for life had forged a bond that transcended the classroom.
Jasmine's heart raced as she approached the apartment complex. The sun played hide and seek with the clouds, casting a mottled pattern of light and shade on the pavement. She knew that finding a place to stay over the summer was a stroke of luck, especially with such an affordable rent. The anticipation of the unknown filled her with excitement and apprehension. As she climbed the stairs to the second floor, she heard the distant sound of laughter and the faint guitar strumming, the melody wafting through the corridor like an inviting scent.
The door to the apartment was a vibrant shade of blue, a stark contrast to the whitewashed walls. She knocked lightly, and the music grew quiet. A moment later, Roxie swung the door open, her eyes lit with a warm smile. "Jasmine! You made it!" she exclaimed, her voice a delightful blend of surprise and pleasure. "Come in; let's get the paperwork done before the landlord changes his mind."
Jasmine stepped into the apartment, her eyes immediately drawn to the open living room. It was smaller than she had imagined, but the high ceilings and large windows made it airy and spacious. The walls were adorned with band posters and art prints, a testament to Roxie's eclectic taste. A worn-out couch sat in the center, surrounded by a cluster of textbooks, notebooks, and what looked like the remnants of a late-night study session. The scent of incense lingered in the air, hinting at the room's recent transformation from a battleground of academic stress to a haven of relaxation.
After both signed the lease, Roxie grabbed it. “I’ll be back in a bit. I got to get this to the landlord,” she said as she sprang for the door. “Make yourself at home, Roomie.” And out she went, leaving the door ajar.
Jasmine takes a deep breath, taking in the aroma of the incense and the faint scent of vanilla. She kicks off her shoes and sinks into the couch, feeling the familiar comfort of worn fabric. Her thoughts drifted to the summer ahead, the parties they'd throw, the late-night study sessions that would inevitably turn into heart-to-hearts, and the shared secrets that would knit their bond even closer. A small TV in the corner of the room flickers with the images of a cooking show, and she can't help but feel a pang of hunger.
Then she notices Roxie's laptop and her OnlyFans page is active. Jasmine scrolls through and sees many fans and pretty provocative photos and videos. Roxie has been very open about her financial situation, and this is a way to make ends meet.
She was surprised by Roxie tapping her shoulder as she snuck back in. Jasmine blushed. “Sorry, it was open and…” she stammered out. Roxie laughed and grabbed a bag of chips from the kitchen counter. “Don’t worry about it,” she said, tossing the lease onto the coffee table. I figured you'd find it eventually. It's not like it's a big secret."
They both sit on the couch, the silence thick with unspoken curiosity. Roxie breaks it by popping a chip into her mouth and speaking around the crunch. "So, what do you think?"
Jasmine, still slightly flustered, tries to play it cool. "It's...interesting," she says, hoping her voice doesn't betray her. "How did you get into it?"
Roxie's eyes sparkle with mischief. "You know how it is," she says with a shrug. "College is expensive, and I've got a taste for the finer things in life. Plus, it's fun, and I have the body for it." She leans back onto the couch, crossing her legs, and Jasmine can't help but admire how her muscles ripple beneath her skin. "But enough about me," Roxie continues, tossing the bag of chips to Jasmine. "What are your plans for the summer?"
"Oh, I don’t know. I didn’t want to go back home and, you know, face Mom and Dad,” Jasmine replied with a roll of her eyes. She grabbed a handful of chips, the salty crunch grounding her in the moment. "Thought I'd stay, work a bit, maybe take some summer classes."
Roxie nodded, understanding all too well the complexities of family dynamics. "Well, you're in for a wild ride," she smirked. "We're going to make this summer one to remember."
Jasmine smiled. “I’m hoping so. Hey, how did you become such a content provider? I mean, like WOW, especially the no-pants ones,” she said, trying to keep her composure.
Roxie took a sip from her drink. "It just kind of happened," she said with a wink. "A friend suggested it, and I thought, why not? It's like being an influencer but with more...personal flair." She took a chip from the bag and munched on it thoughtfully. "And it's not all glamour and lingerie, you know. It's work, like any other job."
"Really, how do you keep the content fresh? I mean, there are so many now on YouTube and all,” Jasmine asked with genuine curiosity, her voice a mix of admiration and bewilderment.
Roxie chuckled, her green eyes glinting with a hint of pride. "It's all about authenticity," she explained, licking the salt from her fingers. "I don't do it for the clout or the money, though that's a nice bonus. I do it because it turns me on, and apparently, I'm pretty good at it." She leaned in closer, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "Plus, it's empowering, you know? Being able to own my sexuality and share it with people who appreciate it. It's like a performance art."
The wheels began spinning in Jasmine’s head. “MMM, performance art. Would you consider boxing a performance art?” she asked, trying to gauge if Roxie had any martial arts background.
Roxie tilts her head to the side, considering the question. "I mean, in a way," she says. "It's all about the showmanship, the control, and the power play. Why do you ask?"
"Well, I’ve been thinking about this idea for a while, but I don’t think it’s ever been done yet.” Jasmine brings up one of her favorite YouTube videos, Christie vs. Talia boxing. It didn’t go viral. You know, like a real fight, but not just any fight. A fight that’s like an art form. Like those MMA fighters who go the distance and still manage to look sexy,” she says with a smirk.
Roxie raises an eyebrow, intrigued by the idea. "So, you're thinking of starting a channel where we fight other girls in a stylish, almost choreographed way?" She laughs, but a glint in her eye suggests she's not entirely opposed to the concept. "That could be fun. But we'd need to find some willing participants."
Jasmine stared at her. “Well, there are two right here. And hear me out on my idea. We get in the ring and have four rounds. After each round, we lose an article of clothing. Each of those goes to the highest bidder for each round. In the final round, we are both naked. It’s like a knock-out in the video for the round to end. What do you think?" She asked hopefully.
Roxie's laughter dies down, and she looks at Jasmine with surprise and excitement. "You're serious," she says, her eyes wide. "That's...that's genius." She taps her chin thoughtfully. "But we'd need some rules, some boundaries. Safety is key, especially if we're fighting without protective gear."
Jasmine nods eagerly. "Of course, we'd set rules, like no hard hits to the face or below the belt. It's all about the show, the tease, the dance. And we'd have to make sure it's all consensual. Maybe start with a few sparring sessions to build up some chemistry and ensure we're both comfortable."
Roxie smiles. “I know just the place. A friend of mine owns this gym, and we tried to hit it off as lovers, but Ralph just wasn't into it as he likes guys. Long story short, he owes me some favors."
Jasmine nods eagerly, her pulse quickening at the thought of the adrenaline rush with the fight. "That sounds perfect," she says. "Let's talk to him and set up a time to train."
Roxie grabs her phone, her thumbs dancing over the screen as she quickly texts Ralph. "Consider it done," she says with a grin. "He's usually pretty flexible with his schedule. He'll love the idea of two hot chicks fighting in his gym."
Jasmine smiled. “You’re ok with this and having me as a roommate."
Roxie nodded. "Why not? We're friends, we have fun, and we're both adults. Plus, I can see the spark in your eyes. You're excited about this, and I can't resist a good challenge."
The next few days were a whirlwind of planning and preparation. They scoured the internet for inspiration, watching videos of female fighters, both in the ring and in the bedroom, to find the perfect balance of skill and seduction. They discussed outfits, moves, and the set design for their potential matches. It was clear that Jasmine had a natural flair for the dramatic, suggesting they incorporate elements of burlesque into their fights.
Jasmine then came up with the idea, just like in Christie vs. Talia boxing. They would both start in gym outfits and have each run lasting 5 minutes. They would see how many times they could knock each other down. They would count to ten before they could start fighting again. The one with the highest knockdown won the run. The next run would be to remove a piece of attire, and then the same rules apply from the previous round. The fourth round would be only 3 minutes, and they were fighting nude and had to knock out or stay down for the count of 10 and then tap out. They decided to call it "The Art of Submission."
They approached their training with a mix of excitement and nerves. They found that their friendship grew even more vital at the gym as they pushed each other to their limits physically and mentally. The sparring sessions were intense, their bodies entwined in a dance of power and submission that was as mesmerizing as it was erotic. Sweat glistened on their skin as they practiced their moves, each hit and block a silent communication that spoke of their growing bond.
Ralph, the gym owner, watched them with a knowing smile. He had seen it all before the allure of the fight, the thrill of the chase. He offered them some advice, showing them how to land a hit that looked powerful but was safe and sell the pain without causing harm. His experience with the theatrics of the ring was invaluable, and he took a particular interest in their unique project.
Both were starting to get used to various stages of attire. Jasmine especially loves fighting topless. She feels it is more intimate, like a dance, and she notices that Roxie has become more aggressive in her moves. They had decided to keep the first two rounds fully clothed, but after that, it was a strip-down show.
One evening, after a particularly grueling training session, the two sat in the locker room, towels wrapped around their waists, their bare shoulders and chests glistening with sweat. The air was thick with the scent of exertion and the electricity of their shared ambition. "You know," Roxie panted, her chest rising and falling with each breath, "I never knew I'd enjoy this so much."
Jasmine grinned, her eyes shining with excitement. "Me neither," she admitted. "But it's like we're creating something together. Something no one else has ever done."
Their training grew more intense, and the stakes increased with each practice fight. They studied each other's moves, learned each other's tells, and pushed their bodies to new limits. The bruises that began to bloom on their skin were badges of honor, each a story of a battle won or lost in pursuing their vision. They experimented with different types of combat, blending boxing with elements of wrestling and judo, creating a style that was uniquely theirs.
After their latest practice, Roxie discussed what they could give their various FanOnly tiers. “We could do some teaser content. If someone pays enough, they pick what we wear for our next fight. Or maybe even choose a move we have to use," Roxie mused, her eyes sparkling excitedly.
Jasmine mentioned that she had just opened a Platinum tier, as she received an email from a fan willing to send her $10,000 to watch them fight live. "We could use the money to upgrade our gear and maybe even throw a little party after the fight to thank our supporters," she suggested.
Roxie's eyes widened. "That's huge! Let's do it," she exclaimed. "We'll make it an exclusive event, invite-only. We'll need to determine how to make it safe and legal."
They both knew the risks of their plan but were fueled by the thrill of the challenge. Over the next few weeks, they worked tirelessly to perfect their routine, each sparring session becoming more intense than the last.
Their friendship and tension grew more robust. There was an unspoken understanding that this was more than just a performance. It was a way to explore their boundaries, both physical and emotional.
As they continued to train, they discussed their future matches. "We need to find opponents who can keep up with us," Jasmine said, wiping the sweat from her brow. "It won't be easy to find women skilled and willing to bear it all."
Roxie nodded in agreement. "And we need to ensure they're in it for the right reasons," she added. "We don't want anyone just looking for a quick buck or to hurt us."
Ralph approached them, “Well, girls, I’ve been going over how we are videoing this, and with me having just static camera shots, it’s just not that exciting. What if we ditch the static camera, and I just shot sole with a camera from the edge of the ring?” He suggested, “It’ll be more intimate, more raw like you're really in the fight."
Jasmine and Roxie looked at each other, the excitement building. "That could work," Jasmine said, her voice a mix of nerves and excitement. "It'll be like they're right there with us."
"But we need to make sure the lighting is right," Roxie added, her mind racing with ideas. "We want to look good while we're kicking ass."
Jasmine laughed, nodding in agreement. "And we'll need some good music to set the mood. Something that gets the blood pumping."
Ralph smiles. Don’t you worry about the lighting and music? This new LED lamp makes the video look so gorilla action. It’s the latest style, and I just put in a new sound system. So you two get up there, and let’s try it out. Oh, and this time, let’s do it topless. I want to improve my skill of getting those great tit blasts. They’re the money-making shots, trust me."
Jasmine and Roxie looked at each other and nodded. They knew they had to trust Ralph; he had been a professional cameraman before opening the gym. They both removed their tops, their breasts bouncing slightly with anticipation.
The ring was set up in the center of the gym, the mat gleaming under the new LED lights. The sound system thumped to life, filling the space with an edgy, bass-heavy track that seemed to pulse with the excitement of what was to come. They stepped into the ring, the coolness of the mat starkly contrasted with the heat of their bodies.
Both are in the ring now. The dance starts with Jasmine being the cocky one telling Roxie to give her her best shot as she opens to receive the first punch. Roxie, not one to back down from a challenge, smiles and approaches Jasmine with a twinkle in her eye. The music starts, the bass thumping in time with their racing hearts.
Both know this is practice, and nobody is watching, but both want to have the most knockdowns in the round. Roxie throws the first punch, a feint that Jasmine falls for. Her fist grazes Jasmine's ribs, leaving a playful smacking sound that echoes through the gym. Jasmine retaliates with a swift jab to Roxie's stomach, her breasts bouncing with the impact. They dance around the ring, their movements fluid and precise, each testing the other's reflexes and endurance.
The first round is a blur of punches and blocks, the occasional grunt of effort or gasp of surprise. They move in sync, their bodies a tapestry of tanned skin and ink. The second round begins, and they strip down to their bottoms, the cool air kissing their sweat-drenched skin. The intimacy of their bare torsos adds a new layer to their performance; each hit now a silent declaration of desire and dominance.
Each had two knockdowns in the previous round. Roxie feels she needs to step it up, as she wants to get a Platinum-tier viewer, too. She approaches Jasmine with a twirl of red hair and a coy smile on her lips. Jasmine, noticing the shift in Roxie's demeanor, decides to play along, feigning a stumble that leads to a dramatic fall to the mat.
Their bodies are slick with sweat and desire, their exertion mingling with the faint smell of vanilla from their earlier snack. They circle each other, their eyes locked in a silent challenge. Roxie lunges forward, her fist connecting with Jasmine's shoulder, sending her sprawling onto the mat. Jasmine lets out a playful yelp, arching her back to give the illusion of pain.
Their sparring becomes more intense, each hit more deliberate, and each fall more dramatic. They know they’re not just fighting for the sake of performance but for each other's respect and admiration. Each knockdown is a silent admission of defeat, a promise to do better next time. The air in the gym is charged with a mix of competition and camaraderie.
Doing their last practice round of the night, Jasmine gets a little too bold and hits Roxie low with a sudden punch. Roxie drops to the mat, her eyes wide with shock and a bit of pain. Jasmine immediately rushes to check on her, her heart racing with concern. "Oh my god, Roxie, I'm so sorry!" she exclaims, her voice filled with genuine regret.
Roxie gets up, looking at her snarls, “Ok bitch let’s finish this and give Ralpha a show. We go until one goes out. Jasmine looked at her. “Ok bitch, no more pussy footing around. This is real, and I'm knocking you out."
The third round begins, and the intensity is palpable as they both strip down being nude. If there were one, the crowd would have been on the edge of their seats, but it's just them, the music, and the cameraman. Fueled by the low blow, Roxie comes at Jasmine with a ferocity that surprises even herself. She lands a series of quick jabs to Jasmine's midsection, each hit punctuated by the sound of skin meeting skin.
Jasmine, not one to back down, responds with a flurry of punches that send Roxie stumbling backward. They both know the rules, but the line between play and reality blurs as the adrenaline takes over. Roxie smirks, enjoying the challenge. "You're going down, Jasmine," she says through gritted teeth.
Their bodies are a blur of motion, pushing each other to their limits. The music reaches a crescendo, the lights flashing in time with their movements. They’re both so focused on the fight that they overlook the small audience that has gathered around the ring—fellow gym-goers whom the sounds of their battle have drawn in.
Jasmine feints to the left and swings a powerful right hook, connecting with Roxie's jaw. Roxie's head snaps back, and she hits the mat with a thud. She stays down for the count, her eyes glazed over with a mix of pain and arousal. Jasmine stands over her, panting heavily, her chest heaving with exertion.
The room goes quiet, and the only sound is the distant hum of the gym's air conditioning. Jasmine reaches down, offering her hand to help Roxie up. Roxie takes it, her eyes locking with Jasmine's. It’s just the two of them, their hearts racing in sync momentarily. They both know this isn't just about the fight anymore; it's about the connection they've forged through their shared passion.
As they stand there, naked and victorious, the reality of their creation sinks in. "We're going to make this work," Jasmine says, her voice filled with determination. "We're going to make 'The Art of Submission' the hottest ticket in town."
Roxie nods, a grin spreading across her face. "You better believe it," she says, her hand lingering on Jasmine's. "We're going to knock their socks off—and then some."
They both laugh the tension of the fight dissipating into the warm glow of their friendship. As they step out of the ring, they can't help but feel a sense of accomplishment. They've found something that sets them apart, something that makes them feel alive.
