Intensity
By Jonica
It is late in the day when the business man known as Jeffery W. Restles finally meets the last of the women he plans to recruit to fight in the Arena. It has been a long day, and he is tired, but he has pretty much decided who he is going to choose. He met both of them earlier, one is a pretty redhead originally from New York State, and the other is a statuesque Italian beauty who looks like a goddess. But he has one more girl to meet, and it would be rude for him to leave now. Even though he thinks about doing just that.
At exactly 6:05 pm, he is glad he didn't leave. Because exactly five minutes earlier, a blonde walked through the door who made him forget all about the red haired girl from New York.
Jeffery W. Restles is one of the businessmen who helped set up the Arena. These men are considered visionaries in this subculture, and Jeffery is their leader. The Arena was designed for a particular fetish that all the businessmen shared. They all loved the sight of beautiful women struggling against the other until there was a definite winner and total loser. The Arena is not for the squeamish. The combatants were well paid, and finding participants was not particularly difficult. Most needed the money, but a few did it because they all enjoy it. Some even did it for exercise,and a handful did it because they shared the same fetish the businessmen have. All enjoyed the paychecks, win or lose. The organizers have been so overwhelmed with interest that they have to actively interview each potential participant to make sure they have the right match-ups. They pride themselves on competition, and strive to make sure everything is fair and even.
As he waited for the last appointment to arrive, Jeffery reflected back on the earlier meeting with the Italian. What a beauty! He though to himself, smiling as he remembered how her eyes lit up with a competitive fire when he asked about potential opponents. Seems the tall, dark-haired lovely like to defeat blondes. The Italian, Serena is her name, grew up fighting all sorts of battles. She boxed, did a little martial arts, and loved to wrestle and fight with other girls near her home. She did some videos when she was in school, and she always tried to be competitive. Over the years, the 5'7" beauty developed a taste for humbling and humiliating whomever got in her cross hairs. She especially loved to beat blondes and embarrass them. Feeling them squirm and struggle to breathe was one of the greatest thrills Serena can think of. That, along with her natural beauty, appealing personality, and incredibly sexy accent, helped Jeffery decide she is perfect for the Arena, and he immediately began trying to choose her opponent. He decided on the redhead, but for some reason she just didn't feel right. But she was the closest he could find for a match with Serena.
That is until the last appointment walked in.
Misty came strolling in at exactly 6 o'clock. Jeffery immediately ordered another grande vanilla latte as soon as he set eyes on her! He knew he wanted this meeting to last awhile. The blonde strolled over to his table, making no efforts to appear coy at all. She introduced herself as she sat down, her icy blue eyes boring into him like a laser beam. Her lips curled in a smirk that could almost be described as a confident sneer. But even that look couldn't mask the beauty behind her smile. Misty was not only confident, she was gorgeous to boot. As soon as she spoke, Jeffery melted from the twangy Georgia accent. The image of this beauty and the Italian goddess, Serena, struggling to dominate the other popped into his head and it took him a few minutes to bring himself back to the conversation. Jeffery could have reached across the small table and kissed Misty when she began telling of how she loves to beat, and embarrass, other women in this type of contest. Hell, any kind of contest really. If she were a golfer, she would be devastated if she didn't win every tournament by ten shots! Jeffery could only gulp and fight off the image of the slightly shorter blonde and the olive skinned Serena scantily clad bodies pushing against one another. When Misty left the Starbucks with a fresh, steaming mocha, she had Jeffery's promise she would be in the main event at the next meeting in the Arena.
A few phone calls...one to Serena...ensured that his promise was kept. The details were hammered out, and a date set. Jeffery could hardly contain himself as the days dragged on until his dream match became a reality.
The day of the match finally arrived, and I was shocked when Jeffery W. Restles asked me to accompany him to the Arena. The Arena was notorious for being a "boys only" club, but I have to say I am honored to attend one of the events, even though I know I am only there to draw attention to the visionaries who created the Arena, and the spectacle itself. You see, my name is Joni DeJarlais, and I am a reporter for FCF magazine. But I am still looking forward to being the first reported to ever cover an even here.
I was a surprised when I first saw the home that houses the Arena. I don't know what I was expecting, but definitely not a huge manor house in the country. I take in as much of the ambiance as I can before I am finally greeted by Mr. Restles. He explains the inner machinations of the Arena as he escorts me down a fight of stairs to a what most would call a basement. Except this is no basement. It is a finished room with no furniture. It only has a thick covering of carpeting that is obviously padded. The room is easily 500 square feet, and along one wall is a barrister that separates a few rows of seats from the main part of the room. From the seat provided for me, I take in my first view of the Arena.
After a short wait, the two guests of honor are finally introduced. I sit in rapt silence as Jeffery introduces a beautiful woman with skin the shade of olive that can only be found in the Mediterranean. Her name is Serena, and she inters the Arena from a small hallway along one of the walls. Wearing a short silk robe with the hood pulled over her head, she walks into the room like she owns the place. The businessmen grumble and mumble, but it is obvious they are quite smitten with the gorgeous Italian. After a few minutes of pandering to the crowd, Serena lets her robe fall to the floor to reveal a low cut black lace thong and nothing more. She tilts her head back and arches an eyebrow while watching a hallway identical to the one she came out of on the other side of the room.
After another moment, there is a stirring in that hallway then Jeffery comes out escorting a breathtaking blonde wearing an incredible outfit! A white halter-top that stops just covering her breasts. Her flat tummy showing to everyone in the room! Her hips barely covered by a pair of short...and I mean short...denim cutoffs. Her feet covered with high leather boots. There is a collective gasp among the businessmen as the blonde's blue eyes bore around the room, almost as if she looks each of them in their eye. Her eyes linger on mine for a moment and a slight sneer shows at the corner of her lips. I bite my own lower lip and return her gaze, but after a moment, her eyes move on then light on Serena.
The two women glare at each other as the introductions are given. They are given the opportunity to shake hands, but they only glare at each other until Serena utters one phrase under her breath, "una brutta."
I have no clue what it means, but judging by the reactions of those around me, I have a pretty good idea.
After a moment, Misty slips off her boots one by one. Her fingers working the leather down her bare leg until one by one, her bare feet free themselves from the boots. For some reason she brings them to me, "Here, I know you will keep these from getting scuffed." I silently nod and take them, sitting them protectively beside me. Misty then continues the show of removing her white top, and jean shorts until she is left only in a very tiny, low cut black thong that is probably more of a g-string. Her 5'5" 110 body leaving nothing to the imagination as I am unable to tear my eyes off her tattoos. A large rose centered between her shoulder blades surrounded with extended angel wings, a heart inset in tribal symbol on her lower back just above her butt (classic tramp stamp), a small butterfly on her tummy, and finally a large tribal symbol on her left flank. All of these enhancing what is already an entrancing beauty.
The taller Serena stands a few feet away from her opponent staring at Misty like she is a predator stalking prey. Serena's dark eyes set on her opponent but it's obvious she is enjoying the attention she is getting from the onlookers. Her hips shifting to keep Misty under her gaze with each move the blonde makes. Making sure everyone in the room...especially Misty...can see every inch of her curvaceous 5'7" frame (her announced measurements at 36D-25-36). Her beautiful, olive skin with no blemish at all, perfectly offsetting the colorful paleness of Misty's in comparison. It doesn't take a rocket scientist to understand why Mr. Restles decided these two would be a perfect match.
Finally, the preliminaries are over, and Jeffery finishes with the introduction and the announcement of rules...of which there are very few. The two women are given the signal that they can begin when they wish. They stand and stare at each other instead. After a brief moment, Misty's southern drawl finally cuts the tension, "Well, we gonna fight or stand her starin' at each other, bitch?"
Serena merely smiles and replies, "La fica vuole essere fottuto," then slowly begins to circle the smaller woman as the crowd goes silent.
Serena's eyes light with a playful glint as the signal to begin is given. She circles the smaller woman with the agility of a large cat stalking her prey. Her toned legs tensing with each step she takes. The audience...including me...holds it's collective breath in anticipation. A slight smile...more of a smirk...flashes across Serena's lips and in a whisper that sounds more like a growl, "cagna bionda."
Again I don't know Italian, and I have no clue what she just said, but considering the circumstances, and given the context, I'm pretty sure it wasn't complimentary.
Misty, on the other hand, appears to be a little overwhelmed now that the match has begun. I won't use the word frightened, maybe apprehensive would be a good way to describe it. Even slightly intimidated by the taller, olive skinned beauty. But she circles with her rival as if waiting for the big cat to strike.
The first move comes so fast that if you weren't paying attention you would miss it. Serena's hands shoot out and she twists her hips into the smaller woman. A confident look growing on her face as she hooks her left arm around the blonde's head and spins her off balance into a side headlock. Those who obviously are supporting Misty let out a collective groan as the blonde is trapped pretty easily. One glance at Jeffery tells me that he is thinking maybe the redhead from New York might have been a better choice, but from my vantage point, I can see Misty's eyes. The apprehension she was showing earlier is totally gone. In it's place is a steely determination...and what I can only describe as an aura of confidence. Almost as if she planned all of this.
As Serena hooks on the headlock, seemingly taking the blonde off balance with ease, Misty hooks one of her heels around Serena's ankle and continues the spin the Italian started then she drops to her butt, tripping the brunette with her hooked foot, and uses the larger woman's own momentum to drag her across her body, flipping her with a perfect hip toss.
Serena's arms fly out to break her fall. Her long, dark hair whips across her face as she lands with a thud on the carpeted floor. "Porca vacca!" she stammers as she rolls up to her knees. Glaring at her blonde rival with venomous hatred. She begins to climb to her feet, but the lightening fast blonde is on her in a flash. Misty's hands tangle in the Serena's hair just as her shoulder slams into the middle of the bigger woman's chest. The two collapse in a heap of arms, long legs, bare skin, whipping hair, and snarling cursing! They roll across the floor until the far wall finally stops them. Serena rolling on top of the blonde. She begins yanking Misty's head back and forth alternately hitting the smaller American's head off the wall and the floor. But Misty is now game for a fight. She wedges a knee in between them and pushes Serena off. The olive skinned woman releasing her hair as the two hellcats roll to their knees facing each other. Misty crawling to get her back from the wall. Their chests heaving from the sudden burst of exertion, and a light sheen of sweat glimmering on their bare skin.
Laser blue eyes and big, round dark eyes glare at each other with such animosity that I find myself biting my lower lip and digging my nails into Jeffery W. Restler's thigh. I blush and take my hand away when I notice him looking at me with a quizzical smile. Turning my attention back to the two warriors, I watch them get to their bare feet, still staring at each other, both catching their breathes. Misty's Southern accent drifts across the room dripping with acidic honey, "What's wrong, sweetie? Not what you had planned?"
Serena replies with, "puttana bionda," and lunges at her opponent for a second time. The sound of the slap echoing off the walls of the large room. Again, the onlookers gasp in shocked awe as Misty's head snaps hard to the left. Then everyone gasps in amazement as her own open palm lands with a "smack" against Serena's left breast. The brunette lets out a guttural hiss and the two women tangle in the middle of the room again.
The two women's bodies slam together in the middle of the room, and again their hands tangle in the others hair. Yanking wildly back and forth, each trying to take her opponent to the ground.
Misty is gritting her teeth after the painful slap to her breast...and the searing pain in her scalp...while Serena is trying to use her size advantage to force her foe off balance. The two had never met before tonight, but it is obvious to those of us watching that a mutual hatred has been forged that will last as long as their natural lives, and maybe beyond.
Serena takes a step toward the smaller blonde and shoves her hip into Misty's belly while yanking her head downward hard. A low yelp escapes the paler girl as she is roughly pulled down and forward. A rising knee catches her in the shoulder...fortunately for Misty, it would have landed in the middle of her chest had she not raised her arms to deflect it. But the blow still staggers her and she drops to one knee. This gives the Italian beauty a chance to yank the blonde by her hair all the way to the floor on her tummy. The American lands with a thud knocking the air from her lungs. The spectators who are obviously supporting Serena let out a please sigh as the crowd shuffles to make sure they miss none of the action.
The Italian then takes a step back and drags the smaller woman across the carpet on her chest. A scream erupts from the tattooed blonde as the rough carpet burns her breasts, belly, and thighs. Her bare feet kicking out and her hands prying on her tormentor's wrists. It may be my imagination, but it looks like a tear is rolling down Misty's cheek. I bite my lower lip and catch myself lightly caressing my fingers just inside the top of the boots Misty trusted with me to protect. I blush and sit upright hoping no one is noticing my reactions. I blush even deeper when I feel Jeffery's eyes on the side of my face. My eyes lock on the action and I try not to acknowledge him, although it's difficult.
Misty has finally managed to stop the brunette from dragging her across the carpet. Her claws digging deeply into the olive-skinned woman's wrists. Working her way to her knees...her tummy and breasts bright red from being dragged...Misty sits back on her butt and swings her feet in front of her and jams them into Serena's own tummy. Withstanding a brutal tug from the Italian, the American straightens her legs and shoves her tormentor away. The taller woman stumbles back and away, but not before taking a couple clumps of blonde hair with her.
Serena laughs while shaking strands of tangled blonde hair from her fingers, "cagna bionda!" Again, I don't know Italian, but it's obvious the meaning in any language.
Misty begins getting apprehensively to her feet, but as she is straightening herself, the larger woman slams into her and wraps her long arms around the blonde. The two women crash to the carpet, but it seems Misty was ready this time. As she lands on her butt, she rolls hard to the side, wrapping her own arms around her opponent, and rolls her opponent across her body and away from her. Both women get to their knees facing each other. I am surprised the intensity of their stares don't cause them to burst into flames. Chests heaving, sweat dripping off their bodies, signs of battle already showing on their bare flesh.
"Is that the best you've got, whore?" A sweet, Southern accent filled with dripping honey drifts across the room to the watch crowd. Serena responds by slapping her opponent across the cheek with a wicked open palm. The blonde's head snaps to one side and her hair whips across her face. Then their bodies slam together again and the full, raging battle is back on.
A flash of claws, arms flailing, grunts, curses, and hisses filling the room. I sense myself holding my breath once again, my own fingernails digging into Jeffery's leg again. This time not caring whether it is hurting him or not.
The two women fall to the floor in a heap and roll back and forth with each straining to get on top.
The blonde and the brunette roll around the floor struggling to gain the top position. Their nearly bare bodies straining against one another in a tight ball on the floor. The crowd gasps over and over as one woman rolls on top of the other, but then the one on the bottom will force her opponent over onto her back. This continues for a few moments until they roll against a wall again, stopping the back and forth battle with Misty coming out momentarily on top.
Laying on top of the bigger brunette, Misty's hands grasps the Italian beauty's breasts in each hand and sinks her nails in deeply. The dark-skinned beauty lets out a low growling hiss that sounds more like a threatening curse while her hands grab at the blonde's wrists..sinking her own nails in and raking up her arms. "You fucking bitch!" The Southern accented girl's voice drifts across the room, and the crowd winces when her shoulders tense and grip Serena's breasts tighter and twists them from side to side.
I squirm in my seat as I can only imagine what Serena is going through at the moment. As I shift in my chair, I catch another glimpse of Jeffery's face and see is amused by my discomfort. Returning my focus back to our two guests of honor, I wince again as Serena changes her defensive attacks and violently slaps the blonde across the cheek.
"Puttana!"
"Slut!"
I blush a little as the two combatants trade insults, and I can't help but giggle a little. This draws a short, sharp laugh from my host, and I blush again.
Serena finally gets one foot braced on the ground and she uses her size to power the smaller woman off of her, but as she falls, Misty grabs a handful of dark hair with her left hand. As she tumbles to the carpet, her balled up right fist slams into Serena's left breast causing the Italian to cry out and try to roll away from her tormentor, but she doesn't get far because of her ensnared hair. Her head snaps violently back toward the blonde and another right fist strikes her just under the throat at the top of her sternum, knocking the wind from her lungs. Suddenly, an angry, desperate look flashes in her gorgeous dark eyes and her hands shoot up and grab the blonde's breasts, squeezing and twisting them violently in return to what happened to her a few minutes earlier.
"Ow...shit! BITCH!"
Misty slams fist after fist into the brunette's chest, battering her breasts into her ribcage, but Serena refuses to release her grip on the blonde. Finally, Misty releases her grip on the Italian's hair and pushes both hands under her opponent's chin causing her head to thump violently off the floor. Serena's eyes go glassy for a moment, and the crowd audience suddenly bursts to their feet...including me...sensing the end may be near. The blonde's hands slide down her foe's chin and onto her throat. Now holding our breath as it appears Misty is about to choke her victim out, we gasp in shock as Serena's knee suddenly shoots up and slams into Misty's side, causing her to cry out with a sharp yelp and lose her balance. As she reels to one side, she loses her grip on Serena's throat when the olive-skinned woman shoves her off with both hands.
Misty lands on her side and she rolls safely away from the brunette and finally onto her knees. Gaping at the two combatants, my mouth slightly open in awe at the spectacle taking place before me. Grabbing Jeffery's hand, I squeeze his fingers as hard as I can as he laughs in response.
The crowd returns to their seats as the two women get to theirs. Circling each other, their eyes blazing with anger and hatred.
"Stronza!"
"I don't know what you just said, but fuck you, whore!"
"Ti faccio a pezzi, troia..."
"Yeah...well, I don't speak slut, but I'm gonna fuck you up..."
All eyes remain riveted on the two women as the suddenly rush each other, crashing body to body in the middle of the room with a slap of bare flesh and gasps of air. I can't help but giggle again as Misty reaches behind Serena and grabs the taller girl's thong then twists it around her fist. Serena's large, round eyes suddenly flare and open wide...a scream erupting from her lips...while she rises onto her tip toes. The thin material cutting deeply into her as Misty grits her teeth and yanks the vicious wedgie tighter. Her pale shoulder sinks into her foe's tummy, pushing her back against the far wall.
Bare feet dance across the carpeted floor as Serena squeals in pain. Her thong wedgied deeply into her tight crotch and booty. Her beautiful, cherubic face twisted in a mask of agony, hatred, and anger. She tries to brace her feet, but her back hits the wall behind her with a dull thud that resonates around the room. The impact causing the sharp, burning pain in her privates to intensify. "Ow fuck!" she yips in pain as Misty slams her shoulder into her belly one more time before yanking her forward by the thong. A look of bitterness crosses Serena's face, as she loses her balance and drops to her knees, that stuns each onlooker. The meaning is clear....if Serena recovers, things will get very bad for Misty. Very bad.
Misty however, seems to be enjoying this moment, though. She tugs on the Italian girl's thong, making her crawl forward on all fours like a puppy on a leash. Serena trying to struggle to break free, just as a trapped dog would if it weren't used to being lead. Her knees skipping across the harsh carpet and her hands skittering as she tries to put on the brakes. An evil smile crosses the blonde's lips but then there is a loud ripping sound, and she stumbles backwards nearly falling onto her butt as the material of Serena's thong finally gives way. A harsh scream erupts from the brunette's lips, and tears roll down her soft cheeks, when the material finally releases, cutting deeply into her before snapping away.
In a sobbing voice...with a face that would make an exorcist turn pale...Serena hisses at her tormentor, "Ti faccio a pezzi..."
I don't know what that means, but it is said with such venom that it makes me start to hide behind Jeffery's shoulder for protection. I am also sure that whatever it was, Serena means every word of it.
Misty is looking at the ripped thong in her hands with a smirking smile on her face, but she is stepping away from Serena, which I think is probably a very wise move right now. Taking her time to get compose herself, the blonde tosses the torn piece of intimate clothing into Serena's face, as the olive-skinned beauty is getting to her feet. Serena simply lets the material hit her then fall to the floor. Instead of picking it up...or even acknowledging it, for that matter, an evil smile crosses the Italian girl's face, and for the first time, she speaks in English, "I will shove that down your unconscious throat before this night is over," gesturing at the torn panties at her feet.
I hide even farther behind Jeffery's back, peering over his shoulder, knowing now this will not end pretty for one of the two warriors.
The American blonde and the Italian brunette begin circling each other again. Serena's face is now calm but each person in the room can see the storm brewing behind her gorgeous dark eyes. Misty, on the other hand, still has the same demeanor she has had throughout, calm, business-like, and brutal. Except for the red marks on her chest and knees from being dragged across the carpet by the hair, there is no indications she has even been in a fight.
The now completely nude brunette closes in on her adversary and the blonde braces for the assault. But Serena has decided to change tactics a little. This time, just as it appears she will try to tackle her opponent, she pulls up just short and throws a fast...incredibly fast...combination of punches into Misty's face. The first blow hits Misty on the point of the chin and staggers her, and the second slams flush into her left cheek making her stagger backwards, her head snapping back to the right, blonde hair flashing through the air. Stumbling, she tries to keep her balance. Finally, Serena tackles her, driving them both to the floor in a flurry of arms and tangled legs. Serena pumping short punches into her opponent's sides and tummy.
The two combatants roll from side to side on the floor. Serena's fists pumping furiously into Misty's sides. Misty grabs two hands full of the Italian's long, dark hair and yanks her head from side to side with vicious tugs as each blow sinks into her sides. Neither woman is ready to concede, both of their faces twisted into masks of hatred.
Glancing around at the faces of the other spectators, I can tell they think this is a special moment for this venue. There have been many battles contested here, some legendary, but none of the previous encounters have had the intensity of this brutal fight. Some of the faces register shock at how this match has turned, but most show sheer delight. I wonder what my face would show. Jeffery seems to have a mixture of pleasure and concern. It's obvious he has a lot riding on this.
My fingers sink deeper into his thigh when a loud gasp escapes one of the combatants lips.
Looking back to the fight, Serena appears to be gaining the upper hand. Using her size advantage, she has rolled the blonde onto her back and is holding her head steady with one hand, slapping at the trapped beauty's face. The blonde, however, isn't backing down one bit. Her hips buck wildly, and she bridges her back trying to force the larger woman off of her. Her thighs and calves tense then her hips lift off the carpet. Her butt pressing upward as her cheeks clench. Serena rides Misty's body forward trying to keep her balance, but a mighty thrust makes her tilt to one side. A shove with her hands, and Serena topples to one side. Finally free, the blonde rolls away from her hated rival.
Facing each other from a few feet, both women on their knees, their chests rising and falling, sweat rolling down both their bodies, it is obvious the end is drawing near. How much more punishment can these two take? I think to myself. I know how resilient two women can be...especially in these circumstances...but these two are driven by a level of hatred I can't begin to understand, unless I happened to be in their shoes....or thong, in this instance. Well, one is still in a thong, anyway. Snickering to myself, I draw a curious glance from Jeffery, but before he can inquire, Serena lets out a wild yell. Looking quickly back to the floor of the Arena, I see the two women slam into each other and throw wild punches at the others faces and heads.
I know I'm not much of a fighter, I never have been. I've been in a few. They usually end pretty badly for me. But from what I know of these two...well, from what I've see thus far...this isn't a good tactic for Misty. She appears to be the stereotypical "catfighter" of the two. I could see her thriving in a long, drawn out battle with scratching, clawing, biting, slapping, scissors, hair pulling, and choking. Serena, on the other hand, seems to be right at home using her fists. I know very little about boxing, or fist fighting, but I think I can spot someone who knows how to do both relatively well. Serena certainly appears to know how do to it with a level of knowledge. This becomes apparent after a few seconds when she lifts her guard and swats away two wild punches. Then she slams two quick one-two jabs into the blonde's chin.
Misty's head snaps back and she drops to her butt. Her eyes glassy, and her movements dazed and slow. Her gaze locked onto her rival as the olive-skinned girl crawls toward her. The weakened American pushing her feet to scoot backwards away from the Italian. With her guard still up, a confident smile crosses Serena's face. Like a shark, she is drawn to blood in the water. She can sense the end is near.
Do you remember the old saying, "Looks can be deceiving?" My mother used to say that all the time when we walked down the nature trail behind our home on the Bayou Teche. As a young girl growing up in southern Louisiana, you had to learn to recognize danger pretty quickly. Even seemingly beautiful, safe appearing things can harbor deadly secrets. Touching the wrong flower pedal could bring a shocking sting from a wasp. Turning over a log floating peacefully down the bayou can reveal the deadly teeth of an alligator on the hunt. Recognize the beauty, serenity, and peacefulness, but be aware of the danger lurking underneath.
Serena learns that harsh lesson when she arrogantly draws back a right that will decapitate her victim when it lands. The brutal punch never lands, however. Instead a bare foot slams into the middle of her chest. The air leaves her body with a loud gush, then her naked butt drops to the carpet with a thud. Serena rolls to her side gasping for air.
Misty has a golden opportunity now, but she is hurt from the beating she has taken. Rolling to her side, she gets to her knees, but it is obvious to everyone watching she is having difficulty. By sheer will, she makes her way toward her downed rival, intent on returning some of the punishment she has taken.
Misty groans in pain as she rolls onto her side and gets to her knees clumsily. Her whole body aching, and her eyes still dazed and glassy from Serena's barrage of punches. Speaking of Serena, she isn't fairing much better....holding her chest, she gets to her knees and glares at her rival. Her breathing labored and fatigue showing on her face.
As if on cue, both women get to their feet and rush each other. Misty lowers her shoulder to tackle the bigger girl, but Serena braces her feet and slams two quick left-right uppercuts into Misty's face just as the blonde tackles her. They fall to the floor and Misty rolls off to one side onto her back. Her cheeks puffy and bruised from the punches. Serena sits up and swings a short, choppy right at the downed blonde, but misses the mark. Misty wiggles onto her side and slams a short, wicked punch into the dark-haired woman's side. Serena cries out then grabs her foe's blonde hair and yanks her head as hard as she can. Grunting and struggling to keep from having her head pulled off, Misty gets to her knees and throws short punches of her won into the brunette's torso. Finally, Serena releases her opponent's hair and scoots away from her, clutching at her sides.
The only sound in the room is the heavy breathing of the two combatants. Everyone else is holding their breath awaiting the grand finale, which is obviously quickly approaching. I am so tense, I am nearly in Jeffery's lap, my palm pushing down on his thigh so hard, he is holding his breath.
Chewing on my lower lip, I see Misty start to get to her feet, just as Serena gets to hers, then a hard kick to her knee drops the blonde back to the floor with a whimper. Serena wastes no time moving in on her foe and driving a hard stomp at the blonde's belly. Just before it lands, Misty twists her body and grabs the Italian's leg. Yanking and rolling her body, Serena loses her balance and lands hard on her bare butt.
"Uhhh," she cries out as her tailbone makes impact with the carpeted floor.
"Bitch," Misty mutters at her rival then she twists her foot with both hands.
"AGGGGGGHHHHHHH!!!" Serena's screams fill the entire room and make all of cringe. Then her free foot flashes up. The only thing saving Misty from taking the kick full in the face is her leaning forward. Instead, Serena's foot lands with a 'thump' just behind Misty's ear.
"Uhhh," this time it's Misty's turn to cry as she releases the Italian's foot and falls onto her back.
Serena tries to get to her feet, but she staggers and falls back to the carpet because of her injured foot.
I begin to wonder if Jeffery should stop this and declare a draw before one of them ends up with a serious injury......
Jeffery cuts his eyes toward me when I squeeze his hand, and I can tell by the look on his face that he is considering stopping the fight, but before he can take action, Misty manages to roll onto her side and get to her feet. Swaying back and forth before getting her balance, but she braces herself and makes her way toward her downed rival.
Tears stream down Serena's face as she tries to bear the pain in her injured foot, and she finally gets to her knees. It's a little too late, however, because as she straightens up, Misty's foot drives deep into her belly.
"Ommmmppphhhhh!" The olive-skinned beauty's eyes open wide and her mouth forms an "O" then she falls onto her heels. A defiant look crosses her face, but she can't seem to muster the energy to straighten back up. Not that she would have time. Misty's left hand shoots out and she grabs a handful of dark hair. Twisting her fingers deep, she yanks Serena's head toward her and slams a hard right jab into the Italian's left cheek. Serena falls back, but not to far, and Misty yanks her back into a another right, this one an uppercut that snaps the brunette's head back. Letting go of her foe's hair, Misty allows the other woman to slump to the carpet noiselessly.
Serena collapses in a heap and doesn't move. The blonde stalks around her like a lioness circling her prey, but Serena isn't moving. Using her foot, the American rolls her victim face down and then she straddles the fallen girl's back. Lowering her butt until she is sitting on her foe's back, Misty then hooks her hands under Serena's throat and cups one on her chin then slides the other one to the side of her head. She gives the beaten girl's head a sharp tug and light twist that elicits a gasp from the dark-eyed girl.
"Give up or I'll break your neck, bitch."
Misty's words resonate around the room, and the crowd leans forward in anticipation awaiting Serena's response. I'm not real sure they want her to submit or to refuse and get her neck broken. Seems like the crowd is split. I turn my face toward Jeffery and I see concern on him. He can't have someone get killed in here, can he? My eyes plead with him to stop this now, but just as he opens his mouth to speak, the once defiant Serena's voice silences him.
"I submit."
Softly, silently the match comes to an end. One of the most intense, violent displays I have ever witnessed is over. From my vantage point, it seems Serena is looking dead at me, her eyes seem locked on mine. The fire and passion she had earlier is gone, but the warrior spirit and pride is still there. She gave as good as she got...it just wasn't her day.
And Misty plans to make her pay dearly for it.
The victorious blonde releases her beaten foe and gets to her feet. Thinking it's over, I take what feels like my first breath in fifteen minutes, but then I gasp again as Misty walks across the room and picks up the remains of Serena's thong. I hold my breath as she walks back to her foe. What the hell is she doing, I wonder to myself.
The blonde bends over and grabs Serena's shoulder and hip then rolls her onto her back. The beaten beauty's eyes lock on her rival with a mix of hatred, panic, and dread. But they remain prideful. She will take whatever the blonde had planned in stride. She probably had planned worse for Misty had she won.
"What were you going to do with this?" Misty asks holding up the remains of the thong for Serena to see.
"Shove it down my throat, right?"
Her free hand cups the Italian's jaw and cheek while wedging her mouth open with her fingers. The blonde drops her butt onto her foes chest and pins her arms and shoulders with her knees. I hold my breath in shock as the girl from Georgia wads up Serena's own panties then shoves them in the beaten girl's mouth. My mouth opens wide as Misty wiggles her hips over her victim's chin and moves her butt onto her foe's face, covering her mouth and nose.
The proud victor then throws her head back and takes a look at the spectators. Lifting her arms in a classic victory pose, she basks in the harsh lighting as the audience shows it's approval with wild applause. After a few minutes, Serena's feet stop sliding and moving, then her body goes limp. Jeffery walks to the two combatants and offers his hand to Misty.
Helping her off the unconscious woman, "Ladies and gentlemen, your winner."
The crowd breaks out in wild applause once again. Still in my chair, my fingers softly caressing her boots, Misty's eyes light on me. "Meet me in the dressing room."
Before I realize it, I am obeying her command and following her to her dressing room with her boots. We enter the room and Misty shuts the door and locks it behind us.
A few days later, I am sitting at my desk reliving this experience...wondering if I can put it on paper and submit such an intense story. My phone rings and I am a little surprised to hear Jeffery's voice on the other end.
"Did you notice a woman in the crowd? Hispanic? Very Beautiful?"
I reply that I did.
"Well, she has challenged Misty to a match in the Arena. She says Misty is an 'arrogant slut who needs a lesson in humility. We would like for you to cover it....."
