There were no windows in the fight room, but the ceiling was largely glass. Ana saw the moon overhead when she looked up. The room was bare but for the ring. The ring was smaller than regulation size, only twelve feet on a side, a setting for intimate rather than official violence. Ana waited in a corner, knotting her long black hair into a ponytail. She had left her robe outside.
Sydney took her time. She pulled herself up the ring apron and slipped through the ropes one corner away from Ana and slowly walked to the corner opposite, trailing her hand along the top rope. She wanted Ana to see her body, to see the muscles in her legs and back, how tight her ass and abs were. She left her hair down. “Joe,” she called. “I want you in the ring too. Naked, baby. I want to see your big cock throb while I’m beating her.”
Joe complied. In his forties, he was still hard-muscled, not gone to fat. He reclined in the neutral corner between them. His cock was semi-erect as he waited, his balls heavy with cum for the woman left standing.
Sydney left her corner, walking to the center of the ring. “You know, I know all about you, Ana,” she said. “Joe told me. For example, I know Joe has been fucking you for seven years now, and that he’s tired of you. I know I’m eleven years younger than you and I don’t care how tough you think you are or how much you work out, I’m still fucking eleven years younger. My tits are better than yours. My pussy is wetter, and tighter than yours. I’m stronger, and faster than you. And most of all, I know, and you know, that Joe wouldn’t have brought me here unless he wanted me to win.”
Fury filled Ana. The arrogance of this little white bitch! She moved forward. “Do you also know, puta, that you are not the first that I’ve faced in this ring?” she snapped. She was furious, of course, because of the truth in Sydney’s words
“I know I’ll be the last one,” Sydney said. She raised her hands, shoulder high, fingers spread. Her nails were sharp, and painted white. “Come fight me, vieja.”
Ana lifted first her right hand, and then her left, lacing her fingers with Sydney’s. Their breasts just touched, the lace cups whispering as they brushed. Their hands tightened, the lean muscles in their forearms hardening. They were nearly nose-to-nose now, their breasts compressing together. Slowly, Sydney pulled their hands from 11 and 2 down to 9 and 3 on the clock face. Ana forced her face to remain still, but the pain built in her wrists. Sydney was right: she was stronger.
Ana lasted another minute before her arms failed. With a cry of triumph, the younger woman drove her to her knees, jamming her hands back hard. Ana gasped at the knives stabbing into her wrists. Sydney kept twisting. Ana’s ass slowly sank to the ring canvas as her knees spread apart under the pressure. Every muscle in her arms burned, down into her chest and back. Her head was down, her hair in her face, as she fought not to give this girl the satisfaction of making her scream so soon.
“Look at me,” Sydney’s voice was tight with effort as she crushed Ana’s hands.
Ana raised her face defiantly, and the redhead drove her knee into it. Ana’s ponytail whipped forward as her head snapped back, blood spurting from her nose. Sydney still held her hands. Ana jerked like a tortured puppet in her grip as her knee crashed into her face and throat, again and again. Sydney finally let her fall, only to stomp her head against the canvas.
Ana lay dazed, her hair fanned out, in a growing pool of blood from her nose. Sydney took her bra, just roughly peeling it off over her head. The redhead took her trophy to Joe, and lingered with him as she seductively unsnapped her white bra and slid it down her arms. Sydney had spectacular breasts, and she flaunted then whenever she could. Small nipples that jutted far out when as erect as they were now, a dark pink almost rose red. She pushed Joe’s face to one, and he teased it between his lips.
“That was so easy,” Sydney moaned. She had both hands on his cock. “You said she was a cat, Joey!”
“He hates being called Joey,” said Ana. She’d made it to her hands and knees. “Don’t you dare disrespect me, you little whore.”
Sydney kissed Joe hard, her tongue tracing his teeth, and squeezed his balls. “I’ll be back in a minute, lover,” she said.
Ana got to her feet just as Sydney shoved her hard in her chest, sending her flying back into the ring ropes. The redhead landed on her there a split-second later, with an elbow strike to her mouth. She drove Ana along the ropes to a corner, lashing fists into her face. Ana collapsed on the top turnbuckle facing out. Sydney grabbed the base of her dark ponytail and rubbed her face into the unpadded bolt that ran from turnbuckle to post. The corner of Ana’s mouth was gashed three inches out into her cheek. One hand still in her hair, Sydney dug her other hand into Ana’s pussy from behind, and lifted her to her toes, slinging her back toward the center of the ring.
Joe watched, expressionless. He’d met Sydney a month before at one of his club, and she had been doing her best since then to fuck his dick off. She was a little wildcat. He’d had her at the house for the weekend while Ana was gone to see family and Sydney had stayed naked and with his cock in her hand or mouth or pussy the entire time. That’s when she’d seen the ring and heard their history. From that moment on, it wasn’t just sex with Joe, it was sex with Joe while describing in fine detail just how she’d tear Ana into pieces. And tonight, Sydney was doing all the things she’d fantasized, and had promised him.
Like now. She straddled Ana’s hips, choking her with one hand, and carefully cut around the outer edge of one of her areola with her lacquered thumbnail.
And now. She dragged Ana to Joe’s corner, flung her into it and grabbed his cock before he could move very far. “Stay right here,” Sydney said to him. “Watch me.” Ana hung dazed, shoulders back, her arms draped over the top ropes. Sydney beat her bare breasts with a frenzy of fists.
And now. Ana pinned with the top rope pushed into her tits, and sawed back and forth, abrading her hard brown nipples.
Now. Sydney’s legs scissored Ana across her belly. Grinning triumph lit the redhead’s face as the Latina writhed in agony, her battered breasts heaving as she tried and failed to breathe.
Joe remembered every fight of Ana’s, from Teri in the alley through the three previous women in this ring. Ana was a dark-haired warrior, fearless and fierce. But tonight, this new young vixen was beating her like a helpless doll. Sydney made good on every boast. The fight was ten lopsided minutes old, and Ana had lost it. Her mouth and nose poured blood. Her firm brown breasts were bruised bloody meat sagging into her ribs. There was light in her dark eyes still but it was dimmed, a candle on the verge of guttering out.
By comparison, the light in Sydney’s blue eyes was incandescent. This feeling was so much more amazing that she had imagined. She owned this bitch now. She could do anything. Oh, the things she could do!
Ana hung in the ropes, only half-conscious. She jerked as Sydney whipped kicks into her belly, and offered no resistance as the white girl lifted her legs and dumped her over the top rope. She bounced hard on the ring apron and crashed to the floor. Joe watched from his spot in the ring as Sydney picked up Ana’s bra and followed Ana out of the ring, stomping her in the back as she dropped from the apron. She went to his discarded clothes, and pulled his leather belt from his pants. She draped it around her neck, its brass buckle nested in her cleavage, and returned to Ana.
Sydney tied the Latina’s wrists together with her bra, above her head over the middle ring rope. The ring apron was ass-high to Ana, so bound like this she was displayed with her hips and belly thrust forward. With her arms pulled up, her head lolled back. Her ponytail had disintegrated, so her black hair swept loose, hanging nearly to the ring floor. Her breasts were the centerpiece of the tableau, twin honey mounds with stiff dark peaks, beauty turned to ruin. Her nipples bled, a trickle along the blue veins that showed through her skin, a crimson contrast to the purple bruises still growing.
Sydney whipped her with Joe’s belt. Livid red stripes bloomed on Ana’s belly and breasts. Breathing hard, as if she were on the verge of orgasm, Sydney gouged the buckle’s prong into Ana’s cheek and then each swollen nipple, in turn. Ana sobbed and screamed, but did not speak. When Sydney stepped back, Ana tried to turn away from tortue, but with her wrists tied, all she did was put her back and ass on offer. Delighted, Sydney tore off Ana’s red panties. The belt lashed, again and again. Ana’s breasts dripped sweat and blood on the ring apron as her screams faded to small animal sounds of suffering.
“She’s had enough,” Joe said at last.
“She hasn’t,” Sydney said. “You know what I’ve decided, Joe? I’m not satisfied with just taking what she has. I want her to give it to me. I want her to beg me to take it all, especially your cock.”
She ran her hand over the slashed curve of Ana’s ass. “You told me how proud she is, Joe - that’s what I want to take from her.”
Her words, and the mad gleam in her eyes, made Joe’s cock harder than he thought it had ever been.
“So!” Sydney said brightly as she untied Ana’s wrists and tightened the belt around her neck like a dog’s leash. “If I am to be the new mistress of the house, Ana, don’t you think you should give me a tour? I think I want to hear you submit to me in every room - won’t that be fun? We’ll finish in the bedroom.”
On her knees, Ana followed her.