[TheScribbler]

A few people have waiting a long time for me to write the climax to the long-running enmity between Tiffany_Fights and lyannapelon...the fight for the Society championship.  I have finally gotten off my ass and written the story, so here it is.

My thanks to Tiffany and Lyanna for allowing me to use their characters, and to the other members who make the odd cameo appearance.

The story is long...epic...so I plan to post it in sections over the next few days.

Enjoy!

Scrib

*****

Tiffany stood in the center of the enormous oval-shaped room, and turned a slow circle.  The Society was packed tonight.  It was difficult to see through the crowd.  She could not recall a time when she had seen this many people at a party, not at the new place here in Lower Manhattan, nor at the old venue in Midtown.  The main level was a sea of dark suits, bright cocktail dresses and glittering jewelry that sparkled under the bright lights.  Even on the mezzanine floor around the bar, people stood shoulder to shoulder and any attempt to move through the throng was an obstacle course.

She knew why they were here tonight.  She was why they were here tonight – she and the bitch who had had the gall – the raw ambition, guts or sheer stupidity, depending on who you talked to and how you looked at it – to challenge her for the Society’s championship.

The buxom brunette’s face darkened as she thought about her opponent.  Lyanna. The bitch had been after Tiffany ever since they had first laid eyes on one another, years ago at that exhibition fight in Miami.  The Society had a sister fight club down there.  Tiffany had fought their champion, a blonde Latina named Valeria, at the Biscayne Bay Beach Club, and Lyanna had been in the audience. 

A shiver ran up Tiffany’s spine at the memory of that night.  She had lost the fight to Val, quite conclusively, though she had turned that result around to devastating effect when they had met here in New York in a title fight.  She had not only defeated Val but had publicly shamed her.  More than I usually shame a loser.  I made her my bitch…made her cum in the middle of floor. She had broken her own rule that night.  Losers didn’t get to cum – no pleasure for them – but she had made an exception for Val.  To be truthful, she had done that partly to show the other fighters in the crowd what happened to anyone who dared to challenge her, but also to twist the knife in Lyanna’s gut.  By then Tiffany had known that Lyanna and Val were lovers, and Lyanna had already been boasting about how her girl was going to beat Tiffany and take the title.

Ever since then, Lyanna had been snapping at Tiffany’s heels.  The big redhead had moved to New York and even gotten herself a job managing the Society’s private gym, where all the fighters worked out and trained.  She had been relentless – tiresomely so – in pushing for a fight against Tiffany, who at first had simply ignored her and then flatly refused her. So the fat skank won a few fights – so what?  Nobody, least of all Tiffany herself and certainly not the Society’s managing committee, had considered Lyanna worthy of a title shot.

That had been until the early summer, when Tiffany’s fortunes had changed, at least in the eyes of the Society’s members.  Tiffany had fought a visitor from New Orleans – a girl named Penny.  She had won, but there were many who thought that the victory was undeserved.  Tiffany bristled now as she thought about it.  The word ‘cheat’ had even been whispered about, though always behind her back.  Jealous bitches.  Tiffany’s eyes strayed toward the balcony above.  It wasn’t as if I actually threw her off the balcony, was it?  It had been an accident – Penny had lunged, Tiffany had ducked, and the next thing she knew, her opponent was sprawled on the thick rug, twelve feet below.  Tiffany had rushed down the stairs thinking the fight would be stopped immediately, but then Penny had stirred, moved and gotten up.  It was her who decided to keep fighting, not me.  It wasn’t my fault.

Nevertheless, there were many who disagreed – not openly, but a whisper campaign had started behind her back.  She had gotten hostile looks in the gym – even more hostile than usual.  She was used to cold stares and appraising looks.  Every woman who walked through the Society’s doors wanted to stand in her place – to be the champion, to wear the scarlet thong emblazoned with the Society’s gold sigil.  Even those who were too old, too small or who simply lacked the killer instinct, had their dreams.  Dream on, bitches. Tiffany had worked hard and fought hard to reach the pinnacle of the catfight culture.  It was everything to her, and she was damned if she was going to give it up – not to anybody and certainly not to that skank wannabe Lyanna.

The whisper campaign had worked in Lyanna’s favor however, and had reached the ears of the Society’s committee.  The sneaky bitch probably did everything she could to make sure it would.  Lyanna had gotten a fight of her own in the Society, not against Tiffany but against another member, a hard-bodied blonde named Sherrie who had an impressive reputation.  Everybody, especially Tiffany, had expected Lyanna to go down hard and crawl away to nurse her battered ego and shattered ambitions.

That hadn’t happened.  It had been a very different Lyanna who had stepped into the arena that night.  The redhead had displayed a fierce determination and masterful skills along with a sheer physical strength that surprised everyone who witnessed the fight – including Tiffany.  In her mind’s eye she could stlll see the redhead, gleaming with sweat, her big breasts heaving, nipples rock-hard, standing before her in the miniscule black thong with the number ‘1’ embroidered into it – a thong that the Society had just presented to her after her victory over Sherrie, marking her as the number one contender for the title.  Scheming bitch.  Who did she fuck to make that happen? Tiffany clenched her fist tightly around her glass.  I’ll ruin her, once and for all.

Someone jostled her from behind.  She spun around and found herself staring into a tanned and very prominent cleavage, crammed into a pink and black leopard print dress.  She did not need to look up into the owner's face to know who she was facing, though she did so anyway.  “Watch where you’re going, you old skank!”

“Oh I’m sorry, sugah!” The retort came in a Deep South accent that dripped with sarcasm.  “I was only paying attention to the important people in the room.”

Tiffany’s lip curled derisively.  “Watch it or you’ll learn just how important I am around here…the hard way.”

The taller woman, a busty blonde in her late thirties and also named Tiffany, arched her carefully groomed eyebrows.  “Oh, the smart money is on you being the one who gets schooled tonight, sugah!” She winked.  “You ain’t gonna be in a position to do nothing to nobody when Lyanna gets done with you.”

“I wouldn’t take that bet if I was you,” Tiffany snapped back.  “Could be…costly.”

The other Tiffany smiled.  “We’ll see.” She winked again.  “Good luck, sugah.  You’re gonna need it.”

Tiffany glowered at her, then turned away, looking for something to take her mind off the older woman’s ominous words.  So that’s what they think, do they?  They’re all in for a nasty surprise then.  That bitch Lyanna, most of all.

She caught a glimpse of her reflection in the mirrors that lined the circular arena in the middle of the room, enclosed by the twin curved staircases that led up to the mezzanine.  A smile played across her lips as she looked herself up and down, appreciatively.  She had dressed carefully for this occasion in a red wraparound evening gown, completely backless and almost frontless too, cutting low across the tanned curves of her generous bosom, giving any looker a delectable glimpse of her flesh.  Her smile widened just a little.  Look all you want.  There’ll be a lot more on show before the night is over. The long skirt was slashed almost to her waist on the left side, and swirled around her shapely, powerful thigh as she moved. The color was her favorite, Society red as she liked to think of it, the shade precisely matching the tiny red thong she wore underneath it.  The thong was her most treasured possession, the symbol of all she had worked, fought and suffered for.  It was the symbol of the Society’s champion.

*****

Lyanna stood with one hand on the balcony rail, a glass of sparkling water in her other hand.  The press of the crowd pushed her belly up against the thick rounded metal railing, and she smiled to herself as she felt the hardness of her muscles beneath the clinging fabric of her dress.  She lifted her hand from the rail, and stroked a stray strand of dark red hair off her face.  Her hair was loose on her shoulders, as it always was.  She didn’t wear it up, not even for a fight.  Let the bitches pull on it.  She could take a little pain.

Her full, rounded breasts swelled up over the low-cut scooped neckline as she took a deep breath.  The fabric scratched slightly against her half-erect nipples.  Her heart was racing in her chest – racing with anticipation of the fight to come.  This was the night she had dreamed of, for the past three years.  This was the night she would finally get to face that stuck-up bitch Tiffany, and destroy her in front of the entire Society.  Your time has come, you gutless wonder.  You can’t run any longer.

She looked down into the crowd and caught a glimpse of Tiffany, standing amid the milling throng, staring off into space.  No doubt admiring her own reflection in the mirror, the cocky cxnt.  Her imminent opponent – her enemy – was dressed all in red, from her revealing dress cut low in front and high up the thigh, to her ankle-strap sandals with their spiked heels.  Enjoy it while you can, skank.  After tonight, you’ll never be able to set foot in this room again.  Not after what I plan to do to you.

Lyanna too had chosen her attire carefully for this occasion.  Her dress was sleeveless and cocktail length, falling to mid-calf.  Overlapping panels hid her muscular legs when she stood still as she did now, but revealed them all the way to her hips when she walked.  The fabric was shimmering black from the hem of the skirt to her waist, after which the color slowly transitioned to red – the same red as her enemy’s dress.  That had been a deliberate choice – a statement.  The fight doesn’t wait until we step into the arena, bitch.  It starts long before that.

For Lyanna it had started the first time she had laid eyes on Tiffany, the night Valeria had humiliated the bitch on the shore of Biscayne Bay.  Right then Lyanna had known that Tiffany didn’t deserve to hold the championship, and she had pushed her lover to argue for a title fight, which Val had done.  That fight had not gone to plan however.  Somehow – God only knew how – Tiffany had won that fight.  Not only had she defeated Val and made a cruel example of her in front of the crowd, but Tiffany’s girlfriend Heidi had ambushed Lyanna from behind – a well-planned ambush, no doubt – and had held her tight and brought her to orgasm.  As Lyanna closed her eyes, she could still visualize that scene – watching Val cum helplessly as she hung across Tiffany’s shoulders in a torture rack, feeling her own juices dripping from her as Heidi’s relentless fingers worked inside her, hearing the jeering laughter of the audience.  It was then, at that moment, that she had vowed to take her revenge.  I’m not just going to beat you and take your title, bitch.  I’m going to take everything you hold dear, all of it.  I’m going to destroy you while everyone watches and cheers for me.

Tiffany looked good, her hair pulled up into her customary tight bun with not a strand out of place, her makeup faultless.  Lyanna allowed herself an inward smile but did not let it show on her face.  She knew she looked just as good if not better.  She had spent several hours and a lot of cash this afternoon on hair and makeup, and she had definitely gotten her money’s worth.  Everyone who came near her tonight had stared at her with looks ranging from open admiration to unabashed lust.  She let her tongue flick fleetingly across her lips as she looked down into her enemy’s eyes.  You won’t look anywhere near that good when I’m done with you, cxnt – not good at all.

The champion looked up and caught Lyanna’s gaze.  Both sets of impeccably made-up eyes narrowed to icy slits.  Lyanna saw the brunette’s crimson-painted lips – a shade darker than her dress – tighten.   Tiffany shifted herself slightly, moving her left leg outward, displaying the firm smooth muscle in a thinly veiled threat.  Lyanna let her eyes roam up and down the brunette’s lissome leg but her expression didn’t change, not even her eyes.  Not bad, bitch.  But not good enough. She too shifted her left foot outward, her skirt opening, revealing her own sculpted thigh.  She tensed it slightly, her arm too as it gripped the balcony railing, feeling her hard muscles ripple beneath her velvet skin.  Was that a flicker of apprehension she saw for an instant in Tiffany’s eyes?  Maybe.  She let her smile open up just a little, and was gratified when she noticed that Tiffany’s smile did not.

Their mental duel was disturbed by the loud chiming of a spoon against the rim of a glass, and a raised voice that was at first barely audible over the noise of the party guests, but soon grew clearer as the crowd’s conversations subsided into silence.  All eyes, including Lyanna’s and Tiffany’s, turned to the man who stood at the edge of the thick black carpet that marked the arena.  He was non-descript, bespectacled, brown-haired and slightly balding, dressed in blue jeans, brown loafers and an open-necked blue shirt under a tan sports jacket.  His name was Andrew Scribbs.  He was the Society’s business manager and, in recent times, the master of ceremonies at the Society’s gatherings.

“Ladies and gentlemen!” he announced in a commanding voice.  “If I can have your attention, please!” Lyanna had heard several people comment that, with that voice, Scribbs should have been in broadcasting.  “I’m sure we’re all enjoying the companionship and conversation, but there is a purpose for our getting together here tonight.” He paused before adding, “This is a rare and special occasion…a fight for the Society’s championship title.” There was a murmur from the crowd, though of course everyone knew just what kind of fight was to take place tonight.  That was the reason for the record attendance.

“Of course, you’re all familiar with our champion, Tiffany.” He stretched out an arm toward the brunette as she made her way through the multitude toward him.  Lyanna began to make her own way downstairs since she knew she was about to be mentioned next.  “She’s entertained and impressed us with her fighting prowess for years now, and tonight she defends her title against an admirable challenger.”

Scribbs’ eyes scanned the crowd and settled on Lyanna.  “Like Tiffany, the lovely Lyanna comes to us from Florida.  She too has fought in the Society before, and earned herself an impressive reputation.  Tonight, she fights Tiffany for the coveted title of Society champion.”

Lyanna stepped up beside Scribbs, on the opposite side from Tiffany, and felt the champion’s hostile eyes on her.  She returned her enemy’s gaze levelly.  Champion, but not for long, you rotten bitch.  “Fights and takes the title,” she interrupted with a grin at the audience.

“In her dreams!” Tiffany shot back acidly.  She took a step forward to glare scornfully at Lyanna.  “You’re not ready for me, and you never will be…wannabe!”

Lyanna’s lip curled.  “Has-been!  You’re way past your use-by date, but that won’t stop me using you hard! I’m not only going to take your title, I’m going to show you up for the fraud that you are!  You’ve only held onto this title for so long, by dodging anybody that might beat you!”

Tiffany’s eyes bored into her.  “Really?  Is that so?  How about your girlfriend, Val?  I don’t remember dodging her!  On the contrary,” her lips drew back in a sly smile and she slowed her speech, letting the words drip off her tongue, “I remember how she felt as I held her across my shoulders, and made her scream in pain and pleasure at the same time.  Of course, you might not remember that…you were too busy cumming yourself, at the time.”

Lyanna growled and clenched her fists.  Her muscles bunched all the way to the shoulders.  She took a step forward, and noticed Tiffany’s eyes flicker momentarily.  “I’ll break you, you cxnt!”

Scribbs stepped between them.  “Ladies!” His voice was as sharp as a knife and both women stopped involuntarily.  “We know why you’re both here…to settle this in the traditional manner.” He jerked a head over his shoulder.  “In the arena, and not like two alley cats outside a bar.” He looked from Tiffany to Lyanna and back again.  “I was going to say ‘in a civilized manner’ but – “ he smiled “ – knowing you two and your history, I doubt that’s possible.” He nodded to the two black-uniformed attendants who had materialized out of the crowd, one at each fighter’s elbow.  “You know how it works…to your dressing rooms.  Fifteen minutes until you fight.”

TO BE CONTINUED...

[lyannapelon]

With just the man in charge standing between the two of us I can't help but think back to the night I first set eyes on you, where I watched this so called Champion of the prolific Society get destroyed by the woman who would later become my lover. I had thought Val would be the one to take your title but that plan had gone horribly wrong, the smallest mention of that night from the bitch enough to get my teeth to grinding.

That won't go unanswered.

"You've gotten fat and slow sitting up there at the top, but don't worry I'm here to tear you down from that throne and not a moment too soon I'd say. Any longer and you might not have been able to get up to fight me." I say with a casual air and a soft smile, knowing that will eat at you.

[TheScribbler]

Here's part two of the story...

*****

Lyanna followed the dark-haired young woman down a narrow passageway between one of the two staircases and the wall of the cavernous room.  At the end was a door, which her escort pushed open.  They passed through and it swung shut behind them.  Here, out of sight of the party guests, was another space almost as large, though it was divided into a labyrinth of corridors and smaller rooms.  The attendant led her through several twists and turns, seemingly doubling back in the same direction more than once, before they came to another door.  The woman pushed this one open too, and ushered Lyanna through.

Beyond was a rectangular room – a dressing room, small but functional.  A vanity table sat against the opposite wall, with a lighted mirror above it.  The lights were on, and bathed the space in a warm glow.  To Lyanna’s left was a low black couch, matching those outside in the main room.  To her right, through an open doorway, was a bathroom at least as large as the dressing room itself, with a toilet, shower and a huge whirlpool tub.  Lyanna gave the tub a long glance.  She would need a long soak in that tub after the fight was over, win or lose – no, she corrected herself sharply.  She was here only to win.  She had come too far, worked too hard to even consider the prospect of losing.  Tonight she was going to emerge the victor – the champion.

“Fifteen minutes,” the attendant reminded her before she closed the door, leaving Lyanna alone.  She gave no further regard to her surroundings – it was all familiar.  She had fought in the Society before – only once in this new venue, but she was far beyond being awed by her surroundings.

She set her purse down on the vanity and stepped over to the tiny closet in the corner – nothing more than a boxed-in space with a rail and two hangers.  Slipping off her shoes, she placed them neatly side by side.  Next came her dress, which went on one of the hangars, leaving her standing nearly naked.

Nearly naked but not quite.  Beneath her dress she wore the tiny black thong that had been presented to her after her last fight.  On the front, stretched tight over her mound, was a white number ‘1’ printed on the flimsy fabric, signifying her as the number one contender for the championship.  She smiled as she looked herself up and down in the long mirror that hung on the wall.  I’ll be more than the number one contender after tonight.  I’ll be number one in the Society – the champion.

On the vanity stood a small, stoppered glass bottle, filled with a yellow-gold liquid.  Lyanna picked it up, poured a generous amount of the massage oil into her hand and began to apply it liberally but carefully over her body from neck to toe.  The purpose was partly cosmetic – the oil would make her body gleam sensuously under the bright lights of the arena – but also practical.  Her opponent would find it harder to get a good grip on her slippery skin, though she knew that Tiffany too would be equally well oiled when they came to grips with one another.

She rinsed the remaining oil from her hands at the bathroom sink before returning to the dressing room and flipping her tiny clutch purse open.  It was too small to hold very much, but what was inside required barely any space at all.  Tucked down beside her lipstick was a folded wad of cloth, and she drew it out now and held it up.

It was the top half of her bikini, cut only a little more generously than the thong bottom.  She slipped the top strap over her head, snugged it behind her neck and pulled her hair out from underneath it.  Taking the two ends of the lower strap, she pulled them down and reached behind her to fasten them securely before she snugged the twin panels of cloth – it was a stretch to call them cups – into place over her full, rounded breasts.  They were tiny triangles that echoed the shape of the thong but rather than being all black, the color changed from black at the bottom to scarlet at the top, just like her dress – a particular shade of scarlet that she had carefully chosen to match that of the red championship thong that she knew her enemy would be wearing tonight.  The black of the contender, rising to become the red of the champion.  It was a symbol – a message, like the dress – though she grinned to herself as she wondered if the dumb bitch would even get it.  Never mind, she’ll get the message soon enough.

Dressed – such as she was – she stood and regarded herself critically in the mirror.  Her arms were well-defined, the flesh rounded but nevertheless revealing the muscles underneath.  Her shoulders were broad and, as she took a deep breath, her ample breasts swelled luxuriantly against the meager constraints of her bikini top.  The bitch is so proud of her tits.  Let’s see the look on her face when everyone’s looking at me instead.

Below her chest, the margin of her ribs was faintly visible, and below that the sculpted lines of her abs cradled her belly button, angling downward toward her crotch and the tiny triangle of her thong.  A neatly trimmed stripe of dark red hair peeped an inch or so above the top of the thong.  Lyanna smiled again.  That was another deliberate ploy – a ‘fuck you’ message to her enemy.  The landing strip was Tiffany’s trademark – that and her famous camel toe – and Lyanna was intentionally though metaphorically stepping into her space.  I’ll be stomping all over your space…all over you…before long, loser.

She rose up onto her toes, turning this way and that.  The cheeks of her ass were tight round orbs, honed from long hours of rigorous exercise.  Her thighs, firm and shapely at rest, rippled with revealed power as she moved.  She nodded once to herself in the mirror, satisfied.  She had worked hard – worked and suffered – to prepare her body for this night, this battle, this chance to realize her greatest desire.  Four hours a day, at least, every day since she had challenged Tiffany – four hours of sweat and pain and sacrifice.  Tonight she would get her reward.  She turned away from the mirror and began her warmup exercises.

Five minutes later she was waiting, her bikini-clad body wrapped in a black silk robe, when a soft chime sounded in the room.  A moment later, a door in the far corner slid open to reveal a dark space beyond.  Lyanna knew the drill.  She stepped inside and the door closed behind her, leaving her in darkness except for a small blinking red light above another door on the far wall.

She stood there, feeling the warmth in her muscles and the trembling anticipation in the pit of her stomach, for what seemed like an eternity, though she knew it was only thirty seconds or so because she counted them in her head.  Then the door slid open and, blinking, she stepped out into the arena.

The lights above the circular fighting space were brighter now, whereas those in the remainder of the room had been dimmed.  The temperature also seemed a few degrees warmer, but that might just have been Lyanna’s own pounding pulse.  She took another step forward, feeling the thick padded mat beneath her bare toes.

A panel in the mirrored wall directly opposite her slid back to reveal an opening identical to the one from which she had just stepped.  Tiffany emerged from the space within.  As Lyanna expected, she was dressed in a red silk robe that fell to mid-thigh and revealed her slender yet strong legs while concealing the rest of her body.  Lyanna did not need to see the back to know it bore the circular golden sigil of the Society.

Tiffany stepped forward, her eyes fixed on Lyanna.  She had a smile on her face but it was not a friendly smile.  It was the smile on the face of the tiger, a hungry smile, a predatory smile, I smile that said ‘I’m here to destroy you.’ 

The champion’s hands rose upward as she took another step into the arena and her thumbs hooked into the silken sash that held her robe in place.  With a single swift, smooth motion she jerked it loose, whipped the robe open and flung it away behind her, revealing herself to her opponent and to the audience.  A collective murmur of appreciation rippled through the crowd, and there was even a smattering of applause as the brunette walked out into the center of the arena, twirling on her toes for their enjoyment.

Lyanna kept a firm poker face as she appraised her enemy.  Tiffany’s body was honed to the brink of perfection by long hours in the gym and on the practice mats.  Lyanna had witnessed some of her enemy’s training – after all, she did manage the Society’s gym – but she knew there was more that she had not seen.  There were even locker-room rumors that Tiffany had hired a private sparring coach, though the rumors differed as to whom it was.  Not that it matters, bitch.  I’m here to wreck you, regardless.

The champion raised her arms as she turned another circle.  Her arms and shoulders gleamed, muscles flexing under the lights.  Her breasts, full and firm, tanned and rounded, lifted along with her arms.  They bulged out around the tight-stretched edges of her tiny bikini top.  Red like her thong, it was thin and slightly sheer.  Lyanna could see the outlines of her aureolas, dark circles showing faintly through the cloth.  Her nipples themselves were erect, pressing like little fingers at the fabric as she basked under the eyes of the onlookers.

Her abs were chiseled, hard ridges of muscle undulating downward past her slim waist and the delicate swell of her hips to the prurient mound of her crotch, scantily covered by her tiny thong with the small gold Society emblem in its center.   As expected, a thin stripe of brown hair peeped over the top of the thong.

Lyanna found her eyes drawn inexorably to that shining gold circle.  It too was a symbol.  It represented all that she desired, all that she had suffered for.  It was the reason she was here tonight.  It was the reason for everything she had done since that fateful night in Miami several years ago.

Tiffany turned away from Lyanna, presenting her bare buttocks, bisected by the narrow scarlet band of the thong, to the redhead’s hooded eyes.  She flexed again, and muscles bunched beneath the smooth skin of her back.  Lyanna visualized her own fists pounding that bare flesh, hammering those muscles into quivering jelly.  She felt her fists clench tight at her sides, and she forced herself to relax.  Soon, bitch.  Soon.

The brunette finished her circle facing Lyanna once more.  The murmurs of the crowd faded into silence as they stood staring at one another.  “See what you’re up against, wannabe?” said Tiffany in a low but menacing voice.  She nodded over Lyanna’s shoulder.  “Run back in there now, while you’ve got the chance.  From now on, there’ll be nowhere you can run to.”

Lyanna said nothing.  Instead she raised her own hands to her waist, and slowly loosened the knot that secured her robe.  She reached up higher, either side of her neck, slipping her thumbs gently inside the edges of the robe itself.  Then she drew her hands down, slowly sliding the robe open, revealing her body – more than that, displaying herself to the enemy she planned to conquer. 

She did not step forward, nor did she turn and show herself off to the crowd.  She was not here to show off.  She was here to fight and to win.  She would let her body speak for her then, in the fight, in pitched battle.  Then they would see what this body could do – not here, not now, simply posing and preening.

She tossed the robe away behind her and allowed herself the luxury of tensing her body, letting her strength, her power show for just a moment.  Tiffany’s smile stayed fixed on her face, but the studied confidence in her gaze flickered a moment just as it had done earlier.

The brunette’s dark eyes slitted when they took in the color of Lyanna’s bikini top.  So you’re not so dumb after all, bitch.  The number ‘1’ on her crotch rankled with Tiffany too.  Lyanna remembered the look on the bitch’s face when they had presented it to her after her last fight.  It was among her fondest memories.  Tonight I plan to make some better memories…a whole lot better.

Now Lyanna walked forward, padding cat-like on the balls of her feet.  Tiffany’s eyes watched her approach, taking in her smooth, hard thighs, the rolling motion of her firm taut butt, the tightness of her abs, the rangy swinging movements of her arms.  The brunette tensed as Lyanna came within a few paces of her, but Lyanna stopped there.  She too looked her enemy up and down.  She had an inch, maybe two, of height advantage over the other woman, and perhaps five pounds in weight too – all of it muscle.

Only now did she speak.  “It’s you who should be running, bitch…because you’re right.  From here on, there’s nowhere to run.”  Her eyes narrowed slightly.  “Though after what I’m going to do to you, you’ll need a deep hole to hide in.”

Tiffany’s lip curled.  “Talk is cheap, skank.”

“Yeah, it is.”  Lyanna took a few steps backward and a deep breath, swelling her chest again until she felt the straining straps of her bikini top dig hard into her breasts.  “So how about you put up or shut up, bitch.” She gave a humorless smile.  “Never mind.  I’ll shut you up.” 

She looked off to her left, where Scribbs stood waiting.  He stared back at her, then at Tiffany, who nodded.

“Ladies!” he called for all the room to hear.  “FIGHT!”

TO BE CONTINUED...

[Serena77]

Finally we have it!
The intro is amazing and the fight will be wonderful! I trust in Tiffany's and Lyanna's talent, but most of all in Scrib's one !

As a long time Society member, I'm obviously enjoying the show in the first row! I'm a bit doubtful............should I join the winner in the postmatch to celebrate with her or should I challenge her to take the title ? We'll see!

[TheScribbler]

I got a message earlier today from Tiffany, letting me know she has some urgent family business she has to take of, which will keep her away from here for a few days.  Lyanna and I both agreed that I should delay posting the rest of the story until she's back and can participate on the thread.

Sorry to keep people waiting, but I think we can all agree that rl, and especially family, comes first.

Cheers,

Scrib

[lyannapelon]

In the meantime don't be shy! Join the crowd, place your bets, and stare as long as you want at the hot bodies on display for this epic confrontation!

[Freddy (B.A.W.)]

Society is back! JUST GREAT! I was waiting for this one for years....................
It's an EPIC fight! I can't decide about the outcome this time............ I'm not going to place a bet! I just sit down and accept Lyanna's invitation, staring at their equally hot bodies!


P.S.:I hope Tiffany will solve her rl problems the better way!

[RedEnforcer]

I've been so waiting for this. Lyanna, all due respect, I think Tiffany's going to take this one.

[TheScribbler]

I've just spoken with Tiffany and since she's gotten her rl sorted out, here's the next installment of the story.

Cheers,

Scrib

*****

The two fighters crashed together an echoing THWACK of firm, toned flesh on flesh.  Each flung her arms around the other, fingers grasping, struggling chest to chest for dominance at this opening stage of the fight, thighs straining as each sought to force the other back.

Tiffany felt the beat of her enemy’s heart against her chest, the redhead’s breath hot on her cheek.  “Going…down…bitch!” she hissed in Lyanna’s ear.

“You…wish!” grunted her opponent in reply.  Tiffany pushed harder but Lyanna’s hard muscles met her strength for strength.  So you work out, bitch! So what? The other woman too strained hard to force Tiffany back a step, but the champion leaned in and braced herself, immovable.  Her chest pressed tight against her adversary’s bosom, pushing the taller redhead’s breasts upward.  She could feel the other woman’s nipples against her skin through the thin cloth of both their bikini tops.  They were already hard as bullets, just as her own were, with the thrill of the battle barely begun.

Lyanna let out a feral growl.  Her knees flexed slightly and Tiffany sensed the sudden, slight faltering of her strength.  Adrenalin coursed through her.  Ha! So much for staying power! She surged forward, only to realize that Lyanna was simply lowering her own center of gravity for leverage.  Tiffany’s own exertions slid her up higher against her opponent’s body, unbalancing her.  Lyanna sensed it and pushed harder, giving Tiffany no chance but to twist her torso and sidestep, breaking contact and backing away.  “Lucky move, bitch, but you missed your chance.  You won’t get a second one.”

Lyanna smiled thinly.  “You talk big, loser.  Now shut up and fight!”

Tiffany flung herself forward again, arms out, going for another lockup, another test of strength.  Few if any opponents could match her for long in such a contest, for it was not just raw strength but stamina and most of all cunning that counted.  Too many strong adversaries had fallen prey to her wiles in this way, seduced by the notion that they could match the champion with brute force, only to push too hard and find their own strength turned against them.

Lyanna met her stride for stride, her face set in dogged determination, ready to slam together with Tiffany in another brutal collision.  At the last moment Tiffany thrust her leg far forward, braced herself and dropped to one knee.  As she anticipated – as she hoped – Lyanna’s grasping arms passed over her head and she surged upward with a roar of savage triumph, slamming her shoulder up into the redhead’s midriff.  Lyanna’s scream – more of rage than pain –  turned to one of surprise for a moment before it was cut off as the air exploded from her lungs, spittle spattering Tiffany’s bare back.  As Tiffany shoved even harder, Lyanna’s feet left the floor and she flew over the redhead in a welter of flailing limbs, to crash down on her back with an audible thud.

Tiffany spun on her heel to face her fallen opponent, knowing she had the advantage now, but also knowing she had only seconds to exploit it and punish the redhead for her arrogance before she could regain her feet.  Lyanna had already rolled over – she had the wherewithal to land well though the impact had nevertheless bounced her left breast free of its restraint.  She was halfway to her feet when Tiffany reached her.  The champion’s flying foot connected solidly with Lyanna’s chin, snapping the redhead upright and sending her reeling backward.  Lyanna did not fall but she stumbled backwards rapidly, struggling to stay on her feet, until she slammed hard into the mirrored wall that encircled the arena.

She had no chance to regain her composure even then as Tiffany leapt after her and launched another snap kick that hammered her belly just above her navel.  She groaned and hunched over, throwing both her arms protectively across her middle.  Tiffany ducked low and sent an uppercut into the redhead’s dangling left breast, flattening it against Lyanna’s ribs and straightening her enemy up.  Lyanna cried out as her back hit the wall once more.  She swayed.

Tiffany smiled grimly.  This skank is just like I thought – all gym muscles, a little strength but no stamina to back it up.  Soon as the fight starts to go against her, she folds like a house of cards. She hammered another kick into Lyanna’s midriff.  She looks good and she got lucky in her last fight, but she’s not Society material and she never will be.  Wannabe!

She lunged again, lifting her right knee to ram it up into the redhead’s gut, but Lyanna suddenly spun to the side, and Tiffany’s leg merely glanced off her hip.  Lyanna’s left hand snaked around her thigh just above the knee and hauled it up even higher, unbalancing the brunette, and a moment later Lyanna threw herself forward and slammed her shoulder into Tiffany’s chest. 

Both women stumbled away from the wall, out into the arena.  Tiffany fought hard to tear her leg free from Lyanna’s grasp but her enemy clung to her doggedly.  Still off balance, she tripped and stumbled.  Lyanna took advantage of that to lift her leg even higher.  Tiffany grabbed at her opponent’s shoulders for support, but failed to right herself.  She tried to shove herself away from Lyanna, to gain enough distance to bring her free leg up and monkey flip the other woman over her, but Lyanna clung tight to her leg and made that impossible.  With a cry of furious frustration, Tiffany keeled over backwards, gaining small consolation from the fact that she was able to drag Lyanna down with her to the thick padded rug.

The two fighters hit the floor in a heap but Tiffany managed to twist herself to the right so that Lyanna landed alongside her rather than on top of her.  Without giving her opponent, or even herself, a chance to recover, Tiffany rammed her left knee up into the redhead’s ribs, getting a painful groan from the other woman in response. Lyanna pushed up onto one elbow but Tiffany followed up with a back-fist across Lyanna’s right temple that whipped the other woman’s head to the side and sent Lyanna back to the floor again.

Tiffany rolled up onto her knees, looming over her fallen opponent and raising her fist to send it plunging down into Lyanna’s jaw.  Before she could do so however, the redhead lashed out, seized Tiffany by the string of her bikini top, between her breasts, and yanked downward.  Tiffany barely had time to notice the knot slip and her breasts bounce free before pain exploded in her chest as Lyanna’s balled fist pounded her left breast against its twin.

Lyanna lunged and slammed the heel of her open hand into Tiffany’s midriff.  The brunette fell backward and her opponent rolled up to her knees, reversing their positions now and gaining the advantage.  She scrambled forward over Tiffany but in her eagerness, she ignored Tiffany’s legs.  With a snarl of malicious glee the brunette brought them up either side of her enemy’s waist and crossed her ankles.  Amateur! She squeezed them together with all her might and Lyanna gasped, her eyes bugging wide.

Tiffany flung herself sideways, snapping Lyanna down onto her side with a groan.  The redhead clenched her teeth along with her abs to resist the crushing force of the champion’s body scissors.  Tiffany pushed up to a sitting position, keeping up the pressure.  She grabbed the front of Lyanna’s bikini top as the redhead had done to her, jerked Lyanna toward her and sent a hard left into her opponent’s jaw – once, then twice.  The third blow finally made the clasp of Lyanna’s bikini top give way and she fell backward to the floor.  Tiffany tossed the scrap of cloth aside and reached forward for the other woman’s hair. “C’mere, bitch, and – “

Her hissed threat was cut off in a sudden, surprised gasp as Lyanna’s hand speared into her belly, thumb driving into her navel, fingers spread wide, clutching. Before she could do anything to wrench herself free, her opponent clenched her fist and twisted savagely.  Tiffany’s gasp turned into a shriek of pain as her enemy’s claws dug deep into her abs despite her best efforts to clench her muscles tight against the attack.  She fired a desperate punch at the redhead’s face but Lyanna swayed sideways and her fist sailed over the other woman’s shoulder.

She broke off her own attack and instead managed to get a hand under her opponent’s chin, shoving hard, stretching Lyanna’s head backwards in a frantic attempt to break the belly claw.  Lyanna growled and only clenched tighter.  Tiffany screamed at the fire in her belly.  She clamped her thighs together tightly, pouring all her strength into the body scissors to crush the fight out of her enemy.  Lyanna groaned but maintained her own assault, her strong fingers clenching and twisting Tiffany’s tormented abs.  They glared into each other’s eyes, filled with pain, hate and savage determination to outlast the other.

It was Tiffany who flinched first, despite the obvious agony on her adversary’s face.  Shit, this bitch can take it! She was surprised by Lyanna’s endurance.  Her own belly burned and she could feel the tendrils of pain seeping outwards through her body, sapping her strength, weakening her.  Perhaps she could prevail, outlast Lyanna and finish the fight here and now.  Maybe she could wring an anguished submission from her enemy, but it was a risk she could not afford to take.  She had not gotten to where she was by being overly reckless.  There would be another opportunity.  This fight would be a marathon, not a sprint.  With a final groan she released the scissors and rolled away, tearing Lyanna’s fingers from her belly.

She came up onto all fours, putting some distance between herself and her opponent, one hand rubbing the burn out of her aching belly.  She would reach her feet before the redhead did, spin and launch a flying kick into her enemy that would send the skank skidding across the rug.  That would be a move they’d be talking about for weeks.  It would be the beginning of the end for Lyanna – but it would be a long ending.  The bitch was going to suffer for her arrogance.  She would learn – they would all learn – what it meant to challenge the champion.

As she pushed herself to one knee, there was a sharp cry of rage behind her.  “No you don’t, BITCH!” A hand smacked hard into the back of her head, fingers thrusting between her scalp and the tight bun that bound her hair.  How the FUCK did she come after me that fast??? With a scream she was dragged down onto her back.

Lyanna did not release her however.  The redhead’s attack had flung her onto her back too, but she shoved a second hand into Tiffany’s hair now, grabbing her bun tight, hauling the brunette toward her as Tiffany shrieked and cursed.  “Let go my FUCKING HAIR, you cxnt!” She hated – hated! – having her hair pulled, and this bitch was going to pay.  She thrashed furiously to try to free herself as the other woman pulled her backwards.  Lyanna’s legs whipped upward, her heels thudded into Tiffany’s chest and before Tiffany knew what was happening, she felt her enemy’s strong thighs clamp tightly either side of her neck.  Lyanna’s voice rang loud in her ears.  “Let’s see how YOU take it, bitch!”

The redhead’s claws – those claws that had torn at her abs moments ago – now sank into her hair, jerking her head brutally back and forth.  Fire blossomed in her scalp and lances of pain shot through her neck.  She reached up instinctively to grasp at her enemy’s wrists, to try to arrest the savage assault, but that was not the only source of her pain.  Lyanna’s legs squeezed ever tighter around her neck.  It was already difficult to breathe, and she could feel the blood pounding in her head.  She changed tactics and her fingers scrabbled for a grip on her enemy’s calves, trying to pry Lyanna’s crossed ankles loose, but that only gave Lyanna the chance to attack her hair and scalp even more violently.

Focus, Tiffany! Focus! She knew what her enemy was up to.  She had Tiffany in a predicament where she could not defend herself both ways at once.  She had to suck it up, to ignore one attack and concentrate on the other, to defend and counterattack.  But which? Pain was already beginning to cloud her thoughts.

With a choked cry she raked her nails down Lyanna’s legs from knee to ankle.  The redhead howled in pain and anger.  She wrenched Tiffany’s head viciously to the left, then to the right.  Tiffany’s scream matched her own.  “BITCH!” She dug her thumbs hard into the undersides of Lyanna’s thighs, grinding them into the bunched muscles.  The redhead groaned but did not release her grip.  She squeezed tighter.  Dark spots danced before Tiffany’s eyes.

She had to break the head scissors.  She dug her thumbs in harder, her own muscles straining as she did her damnedest to force Lyanna’s thighs apart.  She managed to get herself a little space and gulped welcome air into her lungs.  That space also gave her a chance to twist her body, onto her side, facing her enemy.  She glared balefully into Lyanna’s eyes.  The redhead stared back at her, a savage smile on her face.

Tiffany twisted her body further to get her legs under her.  Head scissors or not, she would force herself up to her knees and turn the tables on her enemy.  That hold would be done in no time once Tiffany flipped her onto her face and went to work on her back.

Lyanna had other ideas.  With a malevolent roar she hurled herself to the right, flinging Tiffany down on her side once more like a rag doll.  The brunette groaned as her head slammed into the rug and she saw stars for a moment.  She had no chance to gather her wits before Lyanna whipped her back the other way and her head hit the floor a second time.  Her vision darkened.

Her enemy did not let up for a moment.  She arched her back, grinding her teeth as she put every ounce of strength she could muster into the vice-like grip of her thighs.  Tiffany gave a stifled moan – she had no air to cry out.  Lyanna reached down and thrust both hands into the brunette’s hair, yanking hard on her head.  Fresh pain exploded in Tiffany’s scalp as the other woman ripped a clump of her hair out.  FUCK!!! Her hand flew up involuntarily to her scalp, breaking off her increasingly frantic attempts to claw herself free from Lyanna’s legs.

She could feel her bun bouncing against her shoulder, coming increasingly unraveled under the cruel attentions of Lyanna’s claws.  BITCH! Let go my hair! She would have screamed aloud if she had had the breath.  Her chest heaved as she fought for air, her breasts slapping wildly against one another as she struggled to free herself.  I can’t breathe! Panic began to well up inside her.  She forced it back, trying to center herself, to fight through the pain and the panic, to focus on freeing herself.

Lyanna dragged her head up again.  “Look at you, skank!” she snarled, her voice tight with the effort of maintaining the scissors.  “Face beet red!  Sobbing like the loser you are!” Tiffany hadn’t noticed the whimpering sounds, but now she realized they were coming from her own strangled throat.  Lyanna raised her voice.  “Here’s your champion!” she called out to the room at large.  “Here’s the best of the best!” Her voice dripped with scorn.  Tiffany heard a ripple of laughter amongst the onlookers.

Anger joined the panic in Tiffany’s mind.  She had to get out of this hold – now – and make this interloper eat her words.  And my pussy, the cocky cxnt!  Lyanna would rue the moment she had made her challenge for the championship.  Tiffany would make sure she would never dare set foot in this room, ever again.  She forced her fingers between her opponent’s thighs, feeling the burn in her arms as she strained to force them apart, to allow herself to breathe and to escape.

The redhead rolled rapidly to her right, sending new agony shooting through Tiffany’s neck.  She gasped involuntarily, eyes shut, mouth open.  Her pulse pounded.  She could feel it in her face now.  She knew without looking that her cheeks were beet-red.  She tried to inhale, but got barely any air.  The panic rose higher inside her.

“Give it up, bitch!” Lyanna yanked on Tiffany’s fast-disintegrating bun yet again with one hand, and used the other to slap savagely at her face, forehand and backhand.  Tiffany gave a breathless yelp as her neck arched upward, twisted awkwardly and painfully to the side, until she found herself staring through tear-filled eyes at the ceiling far above.  “You’re done for!  Give it up now and maybe I’ll be merciful…or maybe not!” The redhead’s wicked laughter was echoed by the audience.

She’s laughing at me!  They’re laughing at me! Tiffany’s roar of rage came out as a barely audible croak.  Lyanna yanked harder on Tiffany’s hair, pulling the brunette’s face into her crotch.  Tiffany’s nose rubbed against the embroidered ‘1’ on the front of her enemy’s thong.  Bitch is rubbing my nose in it! She’s trying to make me a laughing stock, and she’s ENJOYING it! She could smell Lyanna’s sweat, the musk of her perfume and, through it all, the scent of her enemy’s lust.  The bitch is even getting off on this!

Her anger surged and pushed her panic aside.  This skank is going DOWN!  She thrust her hand up between Lyanna’s thighs again but this time, instead of repeating her vain attempts to claw her enemy’s legs apart, she worked her hand in between her own face and Lyanna’s crotch, shoved her fingers in under the edge of the other woman’s thong, probing beneath the tight-stretched fabric, then jabbing her stiffened thumb into the velvet folds of the redhead’s sex.

Lyanna shrieked like a banshee.  Her hips bucked violently upward, jerking Tiffany along with her.  New pain stabbed through Tiffany’s neck but she forced herself to ignore it, grinding her thumb in harder.  Lyanna’s screams rose in pitch and intensity.  She flung herself onto her side, flipping Tiffany onto her belly, then rolled even further, forcing the brunette’s face against the floor.  “YOU DIRTY FUCKING BITCH!”  Still Tiffany maintained her attack, knowing that if she gave up now, she was finished.  Lyanna would be relentless in taking revenge for this low blow – Tiffany could not give her the chance.

Finally the pressure of the redhead’s thighs around her neck faltered, then ceased.  She felt a foot hammer into her shoulder, shoving her away as Lyanna rolled in the opposite direction.  Tiffany lay there on her side, gasping for breath, sobbing with unabashed relief as she gulped air – strength – back into her body.  Her scalp stung, her neck throbbed, pain and fatigue gnawed at her, but through her tears she saw Lyanna laying on her side a few feet away, hands clasped tight to her wounded crotch.

Tiffany rolled slowly away, pushed up onto her knees, then used her hands to boost herself to her feet.  It took an extreme effort but with every breath she felt better – stronger.  She would teach this wannabe bitch a lesson she would never forget.  She was going to make an example out of Lyanna.   She clenched her fists and turned toward her enemy.

To her surprise Lyanna had already risen.  She stood swaying slightly, her face still pinched in pain but also twisted in fury.  She tossed her head and squared her shoulders, glaring at Tiffany.  Her chest swelled, bare breasts rising and falling as she too rapidly regained her breath.  “You dirty cheating cxnt!” she spat.  “Can’t throw me off a balcony, so you went for the pussy instead!”

She came at Tiffany, growling and swinging, and fired a straight right at Tiffany’s chest.  The brunette got a hand up to block it, but the sheer furious force of the blow carried Lyanna’s fist past her defense and it caught her just inside her left shoulder.  The impact rocked her back a step and she winced.

She recovered quickly and closed with the redhead, sending her own left up under Lyanna’s outstretched right arm, slamming into the underside of the other woman’s right breast, knocking it upward and inward.  Lyanna grunted.  “You can talk, bitch,” snarled Tiffany, her voice still a little croaky, not yet fully recovered from the head scissors, “after some of the shit I’ve seen you pull!”

Lyanna’s eyes flashed angrily.  She launched another punch of her own at Tiffany’s chest but as Tiffany brought her guard down to block it, her opponent whipped her fist back and followed up with a wicked roundhouse right that hammered into Tiffany’s left temple, staggering her several steps to the left.  Her head rang like a bell.  Dammit, this bitch hits hard! Dark spots danced before her eyes.  She backpedaled, covering up, shaking her head to clear her vision.  Part of her looked for something to make her enemy back off, to give herself a chance to breathe, to recoup and recover, so she could turn this fight back around.  Another part of her – the part that wanted to show her opponent up for the wannabe she was – looked for an opening, a chance to put the bitch down hard and fast.  Taunt me, skank?  I’ll make you regret that.  I’ll make you eat your words…right before you eat me.

She stepped in and feinted a left hook at Lyanna’s bouncing bosom, then lunged with her right, aiming a haymaker at her opponent’s head.  Let’s see how you like it, skank! Lyanna ducked under her swinging arm however, grabbed it in both hands just below the elbow and used it as a lever to spin behind Tiffany. The brunette cried out in pain as Lyanna twisted her arm up into a hammerlock.  She tried to spin away but her opponent had already snaked her other arm up around Tiffany’s shoulder, and she suddenly found herself trapped against Lyanna’s chest.  “Now I gotcha, skank!” hissed the redhead in her ear.

Clenching her teeth against the pain in her arm and shoulder, Tiffany tucked her chin down, then threw her head backward at her enemy’s face.  Lyanna was too far to her left however, and the attempt barely brushed the redhead’s cheek.  “No you don’t, bitch!” laughed Lyanna.  “Nice try though.  Let’s go for a ride, shall we?”  Suddenly Tiffany found herself jerked in a quarter circle to her right, then propelled rapidly forward toward the nearby mirrored wall.

Tiffany quickly understood her enemy’s intent.  Lyanna was trying to drive her into the wall and crush the breath – and the fight – out of her.  Barely recovered from her enemy’s cruel scissors, Tiffany knew that was a serious risk.  She had not become – and stayed – the Society champion however, without being able to pull herself out of a tight situation.    As the two fighters charged toward the glass, she watched the distance close rapidly, timing her counterstroke carefully.  At exactly two strides from the wall, she threw her left foot up, to brace it against the wall and abruptly halt Lyanna’s rush, slamming the redhead into her back and turning the tables, making Lyanna the victim of her own charge.

TO BE CONTINUED...

[Apartment Wrestling Club]

Love your work. Looking forward to the next installment.

[Serena77]

The first part of the fight is amazing, as expected! Great scissors, powerful blows and..............a nasty pussy attack!
Tiffany and Lyanna are ruthless like wild cats!
Go on, Scrib! You are the best!

[TheScribbler]

I'm posting tonight's installment a little earlier than normal, since I'm about to jump on a plane and won't be online at the usual time.

Enjoy!

Scrib

*****

Lyanna had other ideas.  At the precise moment Tiffany lifted her leg, the redhead spun to the right, pivoting her captive opponent with her, and instead of Tiffany’s foot being braced in front of her, it was suddenly angled awkwardly outward to her left.  She hardly had time to scream in surprise before she slammed into the unyielding wall.  The breath rushed out of her and she groaned, followed an instant later by another breathless gasp as Lyanna’s full weight crashed into her and crushed her against the glass.

Her face struck the mirror hard, adding new pain to that already blossoming in her chest from the initial impact.  She groaned again, but had no chance to recover as Lyanna thrust a hand once more into the disheveled hair at the back of her head and wrenched savagely, sending her stumbling sideways along the wall, off balance.

“Take a look at yourself, bitch!” snarled the redhead, hauling Tiffany’s head back off the mirror.  She shook Tiffany hard.  “Look!”

Tiffany looked.  Her hair was a tangled, sweat-soaked birds nest sticking out around her head at odd angles.  The ragged remnant of her once-pristine bun hung loosely against her left shoulder.  Tears of pain had streaked her mascara in dark runnels down her cheeks.  One or more of Lyanna’s slaps had smeared her lipstick in a crimson streak across her left cheek in a bizarre parody of a smile.  Her cheek itself was red and swollen from the redhead’s heavy blows.  I’m a mess.  This bitch is messing me up!

“Behold, the mighty champion!” hissed Lyanna scathingly from behind her.  Before Tiffany could bring her right arm, now free of the hammerlock, in to push herself off the wall, Lyanna rammed her face into the glass once again.  “NNNGGGUHHH!!!”  She saw stars.

Lyanna used her hold on Tiffany’s left shoulder to spin the brunette around, back against the wall, facing her opponent.  Still reeling, Tiffany brought her arms up across her body to protect her chest and belly, but Lyanna seized her under the chin with her left hand, ramming Tiffany back into the wall once more. The redhead’s breath was hot on Tiffany’s face, and a fine spray of spit spattered her lips and cheeks as Lyanna snarled, “You’re mine, bitch!  ALL MINE!”

Tiffany reached up desperately to grasp at Lyanna’s wrist.  Pain blossomed in her neck as Lyanna’s fingers drove deep into the soft flesh of her throat, already bruised and swollen from the cruel head scissors.  Her panic came back with a vengeance.   The bitch is choking me! Lyanna only gripped her tighter, and her attempted defense opened up her torso to attack.  A moment later she shuddered as Lyanna’s fist hammered upward under her ribs.  The brunette’s eyes and mouth opened wide as she stiffened in redoubled agony.

Lyanna shoved harder, her hand tighter on Tiffany’s throat as she lifted the beleaguered champion up onto her toes.  Tiffany squirmed in her enemy’s grip, trying frantically to free herself, once again gasping for air.  She could taste her enemy’s spit, and what little breath she managed to draw was redolent with the musk of Lyanna’s perfume and perspiration.  Then the air exploded from her aching lungs once again as Lyanna’s fist sank deep into her belly with all the redhead’s weight behind it.  Tiffany doubled over as Lyanna released her grip, and sagged to her knees, leaning forward and held up only by her forehead resting against the front of her opponent’s thighs.

She barely had time to draw a shuddering breath before she felt herself jerked upward yet again by her hair.  New tears brimmed in her half-glazed eyes at the searing pain in her scalp, but it had little time to register before Lyanna’s knee thudded into her midriff. She made a strangled sound something like “GLLUNNNGGGHHH!!!” as she keeled over on her side, both hands clasped to her belly.

Lyanna rammed a foot into Tiffany yet again, higher up between her belly button and her ribs, easily avoiding the futile protection of her arms.  Tiffany gagged.  A thin stream of drool escaped her parted lips.  She writhed in pain, squirming onto her back in the corner between the floor and the wall.  Her chest and belly were on fire.  I can’t breathe!  This bitch is relentless!  She’s all over me!  No chance to defend, no chance to recover.  No chance!  She had no breath left to scream as Lyanna’s heel ground deep into her aching abs.

The redhead bent and renewed her assault on Tiffany’s hair with both hands.  “Gonna bald you, bitch!” She hauled the reeling champion bodily to her knees.  Tiffany raised her arms, which felt like lead weights now, to grab for her enemy’s wrists and alleviate the pain.  Let go of my fucking hair, bitch! The words were only in her mind.  She lacked the air to make a sound, her mind in shock at the furious pace of Lyanna’s assault.  Tears blurred her vision.  She tried to lash out at where she knew the redhead’s belly had to be, but her movements were sluggish and Lyanna blocked her easily with a raised knee.  “That all you got, loser?”  She hurled Tiffany sideways against the wall where the brunette sagged, gasping, her fingers scrabbling weakly for purchase on the smooth glass.

Again Lyanna grabbed her by her hair.  Tiffany tried to raise her arms once more but this time the wall got in her way.  She gave an anguished groan that barely made a sound as the redhead’s knee rammed into her back, just to the right of her spine, at the bottom of her ribs.  Pain lanced through her and she struggled even harder to breathe.  God, she’s killing me!

The panic began to take over now.  I can’t think!  Even so, she tried ever more urgently to force herself up off her knees.  Lyanna jerked viciously on her hair, actually helping her halfway up, but then she threw Tiffany’s body hard against the wall again, and followed up with a hard fist to the right kidney, then another closer to the spine, and yet another further to the left.  Tiffany tensed, shuddered, gasped and slid back down the wall, leaving a trail of sweat and a dark smear of lipstick on the glass.

Still Lyanna did not let up, holding Tiffany against the wall with one hand by her head, bending and sending a barrage of fists and knees into the battered brunette’s back.  Tiffany jerked with each blow, writhing in a vain attempt to break away but without success.  Each impact slammed her into the unforgiving surface of the mirror, arching her back, flattening her breasts, crushing whatever air was left out of her chest, hurting her and weakening her. I can’t breathe!  I can’t BREATHE!!!

At last Lyanna halted her assault.  Yanking Tiffany off the wall, the redhead flung her away into the arena, sending her stumbling a few paces until she collapsed to the floor where she lay on her belly, trembling.  She hurt all over – it hurt to move, to breathe, even to think.  She managed to draw a ragged breath and gasped as pain lanced through her bruised ribs.  The gasp ended in an agonized sob.  Slowly she dragged her arms in closer to her body, pushing down, attempting to lever herself up, but the brutal punishment she had just received had robbed her of the strength to rise.

“Get up, bitch!” Lyanna’s voice was like a whip lashing her, and she stiffened, involuntarily sucking in a welcome if painful breath.  “Up!” The breath came out in a scream as Lyanna’s foot stomped down hard on the spread fingers of her left hand.  Tiffany clenched her fist and hugged her hand to her chest, biting her lip to keep from sobbing in agony. 

She broke my fingers!  The cxnt broke my fingers! She didn’t know if that was true, but the pain was horrible and the fear was even worse. Nobody does that! There were few if any hard-and-fast rules in the Society, but the fighters were professionals and anything that might cause serious injury was avoided by unspoken agreement.  Nobody wanted to dish out punishment that would send an opponent to the hospital or put her action of action for weeks or months.  You might wind up on the receiving end of such a move, next time.  If she’ll do that, what else will she do?  Tiffany was in shock, but the answer came to her immediately.  Anything she wants.  I can’t stop her.

“GET UP!” repeated Lyanna in a steely voice, and with a desperate groan Tiffany braced her other hand – her good hand – against the floor, trying to find the strength to lift her tormented body with one arm.  Her exhausted muscles quivering with the strain, she managed to raise herself an inch or two, only to wail in anguish as the redhead stomped her right hand too.  She fell back to the floor on her face, sobbing, and rolled onto her back, now holding both arms across her chest, clutching her throbbing hands beneath her armpits.

Lyanna squatted over her, thrust her fingers into Tiffany’s hair and wrenched her head up, twisting her agonized face to show her off to the audience.  “Look at her!” she called out to the crowd, who were watching in utter silence.  They were doubtless as shocked as Tiffany by the redhead’s lightning-fast, unrelenting savagery.  “Some champion…on her back and crying like a baby.” She stared scornfully into Tiffany’s tearful eyes.  “You’re not fit to be in this room, let alone wear the champion’s thong!” She sent a vicious backhand slap across Tiffany’s cheek that whipped the brunette’s head to the side and sent her matted hair flying across her face. “Loser!”

She shuffled forward over Tiffany and leaned closer.  Her crotch was once again only inches from Tiffany’s face, and Tiffany stared transfixed at the number ‘1’ emblazoned there on the tiny triangle of cloth that barely covered the redhead’s mound.  She’s not just the number one contender.  She’s the number one, period.  Bitch! 

Her enemy’s nether lips were puffed out either side of the thong, swollen from the brunette’s earlier assault.  Tiffany’s nose was still filled with the smell of her enemy’s sweat and her perfume, but even more so now with her lust.  The bitch was telling the truth.  She wants more than just my title, more than just the championship.  She wants to break me! She felt the sweat suddenly grow cold on her skin.

Lyanna seized Tiffany by the hair once more and rose to her feet, dragging her whimpering foe after her, lifting the limp brunette up to her knees before hurling her sideways, down onto her belly again in a tangle of twisted limbs.  Tiffany lay there gasping, panting, trying with all her might to focus through the pain, though it was all she could do simply to draw breath.  I can’t stay here.  I can’t! She’ll destroy me!

“Get up, loser!” snarled Lyanna again as she stood over the fallen champion.  Tiffany twisted her head to gaze up at her with red-rimmed, blurred eyes. “Get up!” Lyanna threw her shoulders back, head high, staring down at Tiffany between her proud, out-thrust breasts.  She chuckled.  “C’mon…I’ll even give you a free shot!” She lifted her arms up behind her head.  “There you go…take a shot at my belly…go on! DO IT, BITCH!”

Tiffany levered herself painfully up onto one elbow, then to all fours and finally to her knees.  She swayed and almost fell but caught herself just in time.  Staring at Lyanna’s firm, smooth belly, shining with sweat, she clenched her jaw tightly.  It was a ruse, she knew it was, but what choice did she have?  She drew back her right arm and with a cry that was equal parts rage, exertion and despair, slammed her fist forward into Lyanna’s unprotected abs.

Her fist hammered into the hard muscle but it was like hitting a solid wall, and it was Tiffany herself who screamed out in agony as pain surged up her arm from her injured hand.  Lyanna laughed as Tiffany dropped back on her knees, clutching her fist beneath her arm, hunched over, shoulders shaking, weeping with pain and anguish as she held herself up with her other arm.  She stepped slowly around behind Tiffany.  “See?  You got nothing, bitch…nothing at all.  If you ever did.”

Tiffany tensed herself, anticipating another hand thrust into her hair, this time maybe whipping her over onto her back again.  She hated that there was little – nothing –  she could do to fight back, except play for time and pray for a miracle.  Maybe the bitch will get over-confident and give me an opening. That prospect seemed infinitely remote but she clung doggedly to it.  She could think of nothing else.

Instead, Lyanna drew herself up on her toes as she stood behind Tiffany, lifted her right arm high, fist clenched, and plunged it down into the middle of the brunette’s half-curled back, with all her weight behind it.  “GUHHH!!!” Tiffany still had little breath with which to scream, but she gave a choking cry as the crushing blow drove into her, rocking her forward.  She managed to get her other arm out to brace herself, groaning at the pain in her hands, and only barely avoided slamming face-first into the floor.  Gasping, pain washing through her body in waves so that she did not know where she hurt most, she hung there on all fours, wishing her body was as numb as her mind.

Lyanna drew herself upright again, taking a step to her left, circling around Tiffany, before she drove her fist downward again.  “NNGGGAAAWWW!” This time the force of the blow overcame Tiffany’s flagging defenses and the battered brunette pitched forward on her face.  She lay there, shivering, mouth open wide as she tried desperately to gulp air into her body.  Lyanna had hit her right in the center of her back, a spot that should not have had much effect.  So why does it hurt so much???

The blow had come with the force of a drop hammer.  The impact itself had hurt her back, but it had hurt her chest too as she slammed into the floor.  The padded rug could absorb only so much force, and the savage blow had pushed it past its limits – and Tiffany past hers.  Her head rang like a bell.  Her arms were dead weights, and she sobbed with the effort as she tried once again to lift herself onto all fours.  I can’t let her do this!  I CAN’T!  I can’t be helpless, not now, not here, not against HER!

She barely got halfway up before Lyanna’s fist fell on her again like a pile driver.  She made little sound this time as her arms gave way, crumpling beneath her, and she went down on her belly once more with them twisted beneath her torso.  She lay there, mouth open, eyes wide with astonishment.  She tried to draw her arms in again but her own weight prevented her and she merely lay there twitching.  Lyanna’s foot caught her between her shoulder blades, grinding her pancaked breasts into the mat, sending a tide of pain outward to every extremity.  She shuddered and lay still, fighting back waves of nausea.  Never, ever before had she taken a beating like this.  I can’t stop her!  She’s ruthless…utterly ruthless!

Lyanna paused again, but Tiffany knew her tormentor was not giving her time to recover.  She’s giving me time to think about what she’s doing to me…time to wonder what she’s going to do…time to be afraid. Another cold shiver coursed up her spine, making her physically shake with the force of it.

“You know what they say, bitch…sow the wind…” said Lyanna thoughtfully as she circled slowly around Tiffany’s crumpled body.  “You’ve been sowing the wind for the longest time…thinking you were invincible…thinking you could talk your way out of any fight you couldn’t win.” She gave Tiffany another stomp, this time to the butt.  “But they also say…reap the whirlwind…and that’s here…here and now!” She suddenly dropped to her knees astride Tiffany’s hips and began raining fist after fist, left and right, into the brunette’s bruised back, as Tiffany shuddered and squirmed but otherwise offered no resistance.

The fusillade of blows seemed to go on forever, though it could only have been a few seconds before Lyanna paused her assault – paused but not ended, Tiffany feared.  It left the brunette quivering and gasping as she lay sprawled beneath her foe.  Lyanna bent forward and wrenched Tiffany’s head and shoulders up off the floor.  Tiffany hung in her grasp like a broken toy, arms dangling.  Lyanna slid herself forward until her knees were under Tiffany’s armpits, her haunches pressing down on Tiffany’s spine, arching and hurting her tormented back even further.  Tiffany whimpered out loud.

“We could end this right here, and we both know it,” hissed Lyanna as she leaned forward, her voice pitched low so only Tiffany could hear.  “I could put you out like a light and leave you here for the crows to peck at.” She laughed softly.  “Look at them.” She twisted Tiffany’s head around, and the brunette’s clouded eyes struggled to focus on the watching crowd.   They stood enthralled, with a vast range of expressions from amazement to amusement to outright arousal.  There was one thing however, that Tiffany did see on any face, in any pair of eyes – pity.  “Every woman you ever fought and beat, all the ones you humiliated, everyone you dissed over the years…they’re all here tonight, all watching this.  What do you think they’ll do to you, if I leave you to them now?”

TO BE CONTINUED...

[Dirty bad bitch]

There was one thing however, that Tiffany did see on any face, in any pair of eyes – pity.  “Every woman you ever fought and beat, all the ones you humiliated, everyone you dissed over the years…they’re all here tonight, all watching this.  What do you think they’ll do to you, if I leave you to them now?”

Oooh, though I've never been up against Tiff, I sure know what kinda of dirty I'd like to do to her ... He! He!  Awesome story, Mr Scrib! 

- Sonja

[Freddy (B.A.W.)]

I'm just shocked! This one is even more rough than expected! Lyanna literally DISMANTLED Tiffany!
The champion suffered the hardest beating, but probably she didn't see the worst yet.....................

[FyreCracka]

Pretty incredible story and so well done.