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No Holds Barred

By Wolfboy

Emma and Claire meet in a battle for the ages...and the World Championship

The match between Claire and Emma had been predictably easy to make. Emma was seething with indignation as soon as she learned just how Jemma had been treated by Claire. She’d spoken to the World Catfight Association that same day and told them of her intent to have a voluntary title defence against Claire as soon as possible. They’d agreed to sanction the fight of course, knowing that whatever the rules would be, they simply had the culmination of a dynamite rivalry on their hands, guaranteeing great interest in the fight. They had no mandatory challenger lined up for Emma either at this point, waiting on the result of a final eliminator match to determine that.

For that matter, Claire’s lightweight title was in a similar position with no challenger currently determined for her either. The Smythe organisation also then would provide no barrier to the fight happening.

Negotiation of rules was terse, but easily agreed. They would fight to the rules used by Claire in her fight with Jemma largely. Best of 5 submissions this time, it would be anything goes, with the challenger Claire making it clear that this meant absolutely anything she could get her hands on would be a legal weapon to use, as if the two woman themselves wouldn’t be capable enough of putting the hurt on each other. ‘Loser gets fucked….just like I did to your girl’ Claire had demanded; ‘a punishment round of five minutes to do whatever you want to the loser’ Emma had countered. Both parties were satisfied with that, each convinced that it would be them that found themselves on the right end of the punishment round. The scene was set, with the only dilemma for the Smythe's being that the interest in the fight was going to out reach the size of the fight room quickly. The answer it had seemed then was to move the ring out to a relatively secluded area of the lawn, allowing for additional seating to be put in place for the bumper crowd.

Finally, Emma boldly asked for one extra rule to be put in place, using the privilege of being champion. She asked for there to be no break between the first two rounds, other than a cursory release of the hold that was applied to force the first submission. Claire had no issue with that. She saw it as an equal opportunity to get a quick start and maybe convert it to a two submission lead quickly.

The scene was set, and two Smythe number one contenders matches provided the undercard. Matches that would have been of great interest to the two women who would fight in the main event, had they not been so singularly focussed on destroying each other. First, a spirited battle to determine number one contender status for Claire’s lightweight crown happened with Bindi entered as a surprise wildcard to face an Austrian blonde known as Heidi. The the surprise of crowd, the Indian fighter, topless from the start had displayed surprising control to win the fight by two submissions to nil, both submissions earned by long reverse face sits. The Indian fighter would then go on to fight Claire in her next title defence; could she be the beneficiary of Emma’s work this evening maybe?

In the second fight, the number one contender would also be declared the interim Smythe Catfighting champion, a move that Emma herself had suggested given that she currently couldn’t defend that title. The interim champion would effectively remain her number one contender until such times a match might take place. This saw a fiercely contested fight between the glamorous American blonde Betty and Katie Kirkpatrick, a heavyweight catfighter from Ireland. It had looked for the most part like the Irish woman had Betty’s number from the start, dominating fall one with long smothers as she used her weight to great effect. Betty had looked tired, making most feel that she was easy pickings for Katie; that she won the bout via knockout at the end of the second fall was largely down to her punishing body punches breaking Katie’s spirit in a long stand up round of fighting. Finally Katie had gone to the mat breathing heavily, finding herself with a face full of Betty’s magnificent breasts for the smother knockout and the win. So Betty was the interim Smythe champion, a title belt around her waist as she celebrated; might she benefit then in turn from what Claire would try to do to Emma this evening?

Questions that would ultimately be resolved in the aftermath of the main event as Claire made her way first to the ring, waling barefoot to the ring across the grass of the lawn, led by Linda, the woman I’d seen her have a tough battle with before. I knew that the dirty blonde was a hard woman, it suggested to me that her hand had been the one guiding Claire in recent months perhaps. I knew it would be a tough match if Linda had instilled enough of her ways into the jet haired jezabel. Tonight, Claire looked all business, barely acknowledging the crowd on the way to the ring and taking off her pale blue silk robe as soon as she reached the ring there in the middle of the lawn. Tonight her hair was straight, black and long, and her lingerie was white and skimpy in the form of a thong and a three quarter cup bra that was totally see through. Then she waited, impassive, leaning against the turnbuckles in her corner of the ring, gathering herself for the fight.

Emma was next to make her way to the ring, also barefoot as she made the short trip across the grass to the ring. Where Claire had worn a robe to the ring, Emma hadn’t bothered. She was totally focussed on the matter at hand. She wore just a pale blue spandex G-string and a mesh bra that matched in colour and was totally see through in nature. Her face showed thinly concealed fury, partially hidden by a look of concentration. She knew that Claire was not a woman to take lightly, whatever her perceived advantages were. Ahead of Emma, I took up station and waited for her to walk the last few strides to the ring where Claire, the referee and the ring announcer waited for her. As Emma got up on to the ring apron, wiping her bare feet on a towel placed there, the ring announcer began. ‘Ladies and gentlemen, this is a no holds barred catfight with no time limit set for the best of five submissions, and it is for the World Catfight Championship. The challenger is the Smythe Lightweight Champion at 5 feet 2 inches tall, and 137lbs, measuring 34DD-26-37, at 29 years old and with a record of 19 wins and 8 losses with 1 draw, this is Claire Voss. Claire stepped out to centre ring to take the applause it seemed just as Emma ducked her head to slip between the ropes, and the announcer never got to announce Emma at 5 feet 10 inches tall and 170lbs, with her 40E breasts, 28 inch waist, and 39 inch hips. No instead, he kind of muttered ‘oh shit’ into his microphone as Claire closed the distance across the rest of the ring and delivered a knee to the point of Emma’s jaw to dim her lights and send her sprawling to the ring apron.

‘Ring the fucking bell’ she snarled in the direction of the referee who looked like she might admonish the jet haired fight. ‘RING IT!’ she reiterated, adding ‘it’s fucking anything goes!’ as she buried a hard kick into Emma’s body as the announcer grabbed the champions crown from where it had fallen off Emma’s head on the ring apron. ‘FUCKING RING IT!’ Claire insisted again, grabbing Emma’s hair to hold her in place for another knee to the jaw, and it was officially underway as the referee realised she had little control of things anyway, shrugged, and called for the bell. Emma was dazed and Claire dropped to her knees, flailing away with a fierce flurry of punches to the body, wanting to knock the fight out of her in the first few moments of the fight. Emma moved her arms in towards her sides for a moment now, the first real sign of any sort of defence against this early assault from Claire. It didn’t stop the jet haired jezabel though. She simply went for a grab of Emma’s face, hand across the mouth as she used it to turn Emma’s face towards her and then with a smile, cruelly raked her eyes. Emma shrieked at receiving that optical onslaught from Claire who then took her auburn hair, and used it almost like a leach to pull Emma into the ring through the ropes, then lead her blindly on all fours towards the centre of the ring.

Claire’s plan was working perfectly just at this stage, if it even was a plan at all that was. Had the opportunist in her simply seen a chance to strike perhaps? Either way, her early attack continued as she now dropped to her own knees, still holding Emma’s hair which she used to drive her face into the mat. Out at the centre of the ring, Emma was face down and flat out as Claire grapevined one of her legs, using her own legs to control it, and she shifted Emma’s G-string slightly to the side and without any ceremony, gave her a three finger oil check. Emma shrieked as she felt Claire’s fingers inside her ass, violating her so early on in the contest, and her face was etched with pain as she contemplated an early submission. ‘No!’ she replied when Claire demanded ‘submit you whining twat!’ though, leading the jet haired jezabel to continue the oil check, each movement of her fingers bringing fresh pain to Emma’s face. As abruptly as the violating move had begun, it was finished, Claire using Emma’s body as her post for something of a handstand which allowed her to drop a heavy knee across Emma’s lower back. Emma’s body jolted from that impact, and the jet haired jezabel was on her again immediately, straddling her back, body pressed in tight against Emma, letting her feel her big breasts and nipples stiff from the excitement of working Emma over in her back for a moment as she pinned her flat, face down. An inverted grapevine was Claire’s plan, her legs fighting a brief battle to earn control of Emma’s. It was one area where despite their differing stature, Claire was at least Emma’s equal; her legs were her real strength when she put her mind to using them.

Controlling Emma, she spread her just enough to make her fear what might be coming again, before she went to the hair. A pull on that was enough to force Emma’s head and chest from the mat, before an arm went in tight around her throat. Really tight if the bulging of her eyes was anything to go by! She grabbed for the arm and pulled, finding she had no real momentum as Claire sunk the choke in and told her ‘submit you bitch!’ before simply waiting it out. She knew Emma was trapped. She knew that every attempt to resist or writhe simply went to tire Emma as it tightened her own grip. Emma was going nowhere, she would submit Claire knew, laughing as Emma rasped ‘cheating cunt’ against the forearm in tight at her throat. Then she rasped again, quickly admitting ‘I submit!’

‘Break….first submission!’ the referee informed Claire, but of course now Emma’s own stipulation came home to roost a little for her. Claire broke off the choke hold, even got to her own feet, but then dropped one of her thick thighs around the back of Emma’s head as fall one rushed into fall two. Emma groaned, and immediately Claire had her hands in her auburn hair, forcing her up to all fours and out towards the centre of the ring again. It was the perfect situation for Claire; the bigger woman down and dazed while she led by one submission to zero after her jump start to the match. She smiled, then buried a kick deep into Emma’s belly, sending her back flat to the mat, gasping for breath. There was no immediate respite either for Emma, Claire wisely staying on her with two stomps to the lower back before she measured the auburn haired champion for a moment prior to delivering a heavy elbow drop across her shoulders. She grabbed the hair once again, using it as her favoured method to move Emma into position for her next attack, this time a nasty kick to the breasts that dropped Emma again, groaning loudly in pain as she clutched across her chest. ‘Fat tits can’t take it bitch?’ Claire mocked her before drawing her right foot back to send another kick into Emma’s body, sending her reeling across the mat again.

Her groans of pain were clearly audible there on the lawn of the Smythe Mansion too, with a hush in the crowd, still a little surprised at Claire’s start to the fight. I suspected the only two people perhaps not surprised by it had been Claire and her new mentor Linda, who had doubtless had some sort of plans to take advantage of the rules, should any opportunity arise. It was being delivered very efficiently though by Claire who ripped Emma to her back, and promptly dropped a knee into Emma’s right breast. Her thin mesh bra provided her with precisely no protection against that of course, and her howl of pain attested to that fact. Claire grabbed her hair again now, using it to present Emma’s face for a stinging slap dripping with contempt, before she got to her feet, confident that she had things totally going her way now. She waited patiently then, staying behind Emma to keep out of her field of vision as she slowly started to find her way back to her feet, and in a show of timing and agility, Claire jumped up on to her back to apply a sleeper hold, one hand gripping Emma’s auburn hair just to ensure it was harder to escape the hold.

Emma staggered for a moment under the extra 137lbs that she suddenly found herself carrying, Then she steadied herself, legs no longer wobbling, and her first move in anger of the fight was an effective impact, even if it had been defensive in nature. She aimed herself at the nearest turnbuckle, moving as quickly as she could to sandwich Claire between her body and the turnbuckles. Now Claire groaned, feeling the air crushed from her lungs a little, although she clung on for long enough for a repeat performance to finally break the hold. For the first time in the fight now, Claire and Emma faced each other on an equal footing then, and it wasn’t really that even at all. Emma used her height and reach to slap Claire’s face, and when the jet haired jezabel tried to reply with a kick, she caught her leg. Having Claire balancing on one foot, gripping the ropes to aid her balance, Emma struck by sending a kick up into Claire’s crotch. The lightweight champion dropped to her haunches as Emma released her leg, and Emma grabbed her hair to slam the back of her head into the turnbuckle. Claire slashed at her with her nails, clawing like a wildcat in return before Emma subdued her with a knee driven straight between Claire’s own big breasts.

‘Cunt’ Claire moaned at that, her whine of protest continuing as Emma went out through the ropes, grabbing her hair to force her throat first onto the middle rope to choke her. Emma dropped off the apron, still gripping Claire’s hair tight at the back of her head, pulling her hard on to that rope. Claire gasped and moaned as she reached for Emma’s hand at the back of her head, digging her nails into it. ‘Fucking bitch!’ Emma spat at her and then whipped a slap into Claire’s right breast as it hung above her as an inviting target, converting it into a harsh clawing attack of her own as her slap landed.

‘Ahhhhh….fucking slag!’ Claire complained, a slight rasp in her voice as she remained throat first across the rope, while Emma punished her before a heavy slap to the jet haired fighter’s head sent her reeling to the side. Emma kept the momentum up now, simply grabbing two handfuls of jet black hair and using it to pull Claire beneath the bottom rope to the grass outside the ring. That was a heavy enough landing for Claire and threatened to get worse for her as Emma swung a heavy kick into her body, but the jet haired jezabel latched on to Emma’s foot as it recoiled, despite her pain, and she pulled, sending Emma sprawling into the grass as well. Claire had separation and started to crawl away only for Emma’s foot to catch her in the ass, and pitch her face first in the grass. Emma got to her knees and went after her, grabbing hair to pull her out from partially under the skirt of the ring apron where she’d sprawled. It proved to be a challenge as Claire seemed to be digging her nails into the ground to anchor herself, but a swift jab in the ribs with her foot resolved that it seemed.

As she finally extricated Claire from under the ring though, it was Emma who shrieked as Claire had got her hands on a riding crop which she lashed across Emma’s body, guaranteeing she had the space to get up now. Of course, this was a perfectly legal move and gave Emma something to think about as the crop swung freely now at her breasts, forcing Emma back out of range. ‘Is that it Claire? Fighting with a fucking whip?’ Emma questioned the jet haired jezabel who took another swipe at her in return.

‘What of it cunt?’ Claire shot back, surveying the angry welt on Emma’s body where she’d struck by surprise only moments earlier. ‘You signed up for it you dumb bitch’ she pointed out, taking another swing.

‘I guess you’re right’ Emma allowed, cautiously backing up as she watched Claire’s movements carefully now, not wanting to take the stinging rebuke of the crop again. Emboldened once more, Claire pressed forward a little, wielding the crop in front of her with intent as she attempted to corral Emma into a corner. This time though, it was the jet haired jezabel who was the one being baited in before Emma shocked her with a perfect standing drop kick, the extension of her legs sending her feet into Claire’s face and breasts to send her crashing back to the grass. Importantly, the riding crop was knocked from her grasp, and Emma picked it up, looking at the ailing lightweight champion for a moment, as if she might use it on her. Instead, she broke the crop over her knee and threw it to the crowd, telling Claire ‘I’m not like that bitch’ before dropping heavily across her in a big splash on the unforgiving grassy surface. Claire groaned and now it was Emma going to the hair quickly to force her up to her feet, before waist locking her and running her back at speed to the edge of the ring. ‘OWWWWW FUCK!’ Claire shouted loudly as that smashed into her lower back, and still reeling from that, she found herself lifted and body slammed on the grass outside the ring. The wind was snatched from her lungs, and Emma peeled her from the grass before rolling her back into the ring, following her in quickly.

Claire tried to roll away, but Emma was on her quickly to grab both of her ankles and deliver her favoured knee drop to the crotch. Claire howled in anguish, face a mask of pain as Emma flipped her over into a boston crab, then almost immediately switched to the single leg, grabbing around the knee and leaning into the hold to torque it and make Claire moan in pain. ‘Breaking my fucking back…..aaaagghhhhh…...fat bitch!’ Claire protested, immediately worsening her predicament as Emma moved directly to the crotch claw, the intent to cause more pain her only intent with it. ‘Go on...submit you little bitch….SUBMIT!’ she demanded of Claire now.

‘NO! I…...OOOOWWWWW…..NO..NO!’ Claire shouted out now, but Emma leaned further into the hold, kept up the crotch punishment, and then the jet haired jezabel cried out again, this time in submission to even up the score. It had been eight minuted of nasty, brutal fighting, and now there was a break to be had, though not until Emma had delivered Claire to her own corner with a forceful Irish Whip that saw her drop to her butt in the corner.

‘She’s still a cheating little twat then’ Emma said to me as she took her seat in her corner of the ring now, the anger clearly still there in her voice at the jump start to the match by Claire. ‘Weapons too…..the bitch!’ she announced.

‘Yes, she is all of that’ I agreed with her. ‘But you’ve got to fight her smartly’ I told her. ‘Keep her right there in the centre of the ring, and she can’t use any of that stuff. And if it’s just the two of you, matched up woman to woman, I don’t think she can handle you’ I told Emma. I think it got through to her through the rage, and logically it had to be right in part at least. If the fight was inside the ring, there was no access to any weapons for Claire. There were her easiest way of evening up the score for sure here; not that she was an incapable fighter though of course. She just didn’t match up well with Emma physically if that was what it came down to. Fall three would show that in stark relief as the bell rang and both ladies stepped out towards centre ring.

‘Come on you little bitch, fight me like a woman!’ Emma challenged Claire, taking up station at the very centre of the ring. Claire circled her warily, stalking her prey maybe, but Emma’s watchful eye was on her the whole time. She as ready for any sudden move by Claire who continued to slowly circle in turn. ‘I’ll fuck you...just like your girl...even with the very same strap on’ she threatened, but found that Emma was totally unmoved by such a threat for now. She just stood, and turned, watching Claire walk slowly around her, and she smiled. ‘You’re scared of me, aren’t you Claire?’ she taunted. Emma knew that if she pushed Claire’s buttons enough, she might just act rashly.

‘Fuck off cunt!’ Claire shot back angrily. ‘I’m not scared of you’ she spat, before rushing on to the attack to try and prove her point, only to run straight into Emma kicking her in the belly. Claire folded forward, and Emma smoothly moved to lift her off her feet with a knee lift to the breasts that saw Claire crash to the mat. Emma took her chance now, delivering a leg drop heavily, landing her powerful thigh right across Claire’s face. A nasty move, designed to hurt and stun in equal measure, and Claire was in a heap of trouble from the off in fall three as Emma wrapped a hand in her silky jet black hair and forced her up. A flying hair mare followed, Claire getting whipped through the air by her hair to a heavy landing as Emma took some delight in theatrically brushing some strands of hair from her fingers. It seemed Claire might try to crawl to sanctuary on the outside of the ring, only to have that attempt arrested by a good handful of hair which simply diverted her, throat first, to the middle rope as her fingers scrabbled at the skirt of the ring, desperate for purchase. Emma sat across her shoulders, pressing her into the rope choke now as Claire’s fingers reached for help that simply wasn’t there and she gasped in anguish at the way Emma’s curvaceous body pressed her into the ropes. While Claire reached for help, Emma reached for the clasp of Claire’s bra, unhitching it now but allowing it to stay loosely in place as she pulled Claire from the ropes by her hair. Claire went with the nails, aiming her talons where she’d struck with the riding crop beforehand, making Emma shriek as they seared her skin. A hard forearm across the shoulders subdued Claire, and Emma led her to a corner where she introduced her face to the top turnbuckle harshly. Claire grabbed on to the ropes and Emma simply splashed into her from behind at short range, but effective enough as she sandwiched her between the turnbuckles and 170lbs of irate fighting woman. Claire was reeling as Emma moved her bra a little so that she could scratch her nails down Claire’s back from neck to waistline, drawing the tracks of 8 angry furrows as the jet haired fighter shrieked in anguish.

It was all Emma, and she would quickly put paid to Claire in this round. Drawing her from the corner, she delivered an Irish Whip, looking as if she may send Claire to the opposite corner. Instead though, she didn’t release Claire, instead reversing her motion to bring the jet haired fighter, a little out of control, into a shuddering clothesline. Claire was down, at least for a moment, until Emma forced her up to lift her, looking like she might deliver a body slam. Once again though it was misdirection from her; she walked Claire to the corner and deposited her upside down in the tree of woe, her right foot hooked under the strut of the top turnbuckle.

‘Wait…...noooo…..UUNNNGHHH!’ Claire managed, trying to beg Emma for some mercy before a hard kick lashed into her belly, taking the fight out of her. Then there was a stirring in the crowd as Emma climbed up to the middle rope, a general uncertainty in the crowd about just what she was planning until she ground her foot harshly into Claire’s crotch, causing the jet haired jezabel to howl loudly in pain. ‘YOU….OWWWWW…..AIIIEEEEEE…..I’LL FUCKING….’ Claire screeched loudly.

‘You’ll fucking what?’ Emma mocked, keeping the pressure up for a moment longer before she got down from the ropes. ‘Well bitch?’ she asked, kicking Claire across the breasts to finally pretty much dislodge her bra. ‘I asked you a question!’ Emma continued, then she dropped to her knees, taking care to kneel on Claire’s jet black hair that cascaded on to the mat. One hand closed at Claire’s throat choking her, the other nails first in her breast, causing a shriek of pain that the choke hold quickly cut short in her throat. ‘Submit you little bitch, go on!’ Emma told her sternly, not breaking the hold for a moment, not wavering to give Claire any kind of respite. The pain was etched on Claire’s face, hidden in part by that cascade of jet coloured hair; she had nowhere to go and no way out of this predicament. She groaned loudly, a mixture of pain and frustration, then spat angrily ‘I FUCKING SUBMIT! GET OFF ME!’

‘With pleasure’ Emma shot back, delivering a headbutt to Claire’s belly and leaving her hanging upside down there in the turnbuckle as she returned to the corner. She figured it wasn’t her job to free her nemesis from the predicament, leaving Linda and the referee to handle that. This had been a short round of fighting in which Emma had imposed her physical superiority on Claire, and she was pretty satisfied with things in the corner. As Claire was freed from her trap, it was pretty clear that the jet haired vixen glowered with indignation over in the corner.

‘She’s mad now’ I told Emma, realising that this was a fight that was now on a knife edge for the lightweight champion. This fall would be the last one of the fight if it went in Emma’s favour. ‘She’s going to pull out all of the stops now’ I advised her. ‘Don’t be surprised by anything she comes up with now’ I told Emma.

‘Oh, I know’ Emma agreed. ‘ She can’t be trusted at the best of times. Now...’she said, her eyes showing that she got the message. Over in the opposite corner now, Claire was talking animatedly as she stripped off her own thong; she would face the rest of the fight voluntarily naked. Emma knew it would result in a challenge to do the same as soon as the round started, and not wanting to give Claire even a momentary edge, she elected to strip herself, revealing a thin landing strip between her legs while Claire was neatly waxed, offering nothing extra to grab.

‘Slut’ Claire shot across the ring. ‘Can’t resist being naked around me’ she suggested.

‘Fuck you bitch’ Claire continued, then the bell chimed and she dropped to the mat, this time immediately going to the grassy area outside the ring. The implication was clear; she didn’t want to meet Emma head on, woman to woman. This fall would start at least on her terms. Immediately she took a knee on the grass, evidently looking for some sort of weapon under there that she could wield, and Emma had a decision to make. Did she leave Claire unattended out there to do what she wanted, or would she attack?

She chose the latter option, wisely timing a sliding drop-kick for when Claire rose, brandishing an object she thought might have been of use, and Emma’s feet caught her in the chest to send her, and the object, sprawling to the grass. Emma didn’t follow her out though; she wanted to fight in the ring, where Claire was perhaps keener to engage on the outside. There was something of a stand-off then as Claire retrieved the item that had been knocked out of her grasp before getting to her feet. Now she circled the ring, telling Emma ‘get your fat ass out here and fight, slag!’

‘Fuck you’ Emma shot back, ‘you get in here and fight you fucking skank!’ but the situation remained the same; naked jet haired fighter on the outside, naked auburn haired amazon in the ring. Neither was for moving it seemed, but Claire continued to hurl insults, suspecting that Emma’s patience may snap first, especially when she realised that this was giving Claire more time to recuperate after her third round demise. Eventually, Emma snapped as Claire looked to be going back under the ring for another weapon of sorts, and she went for another sliding drop-kick. A mistake caused by a careful ruse on Claire’s behalf. As Emma slid, she slipped to the side and pulled out the skirt around the ring apron to trap Emma between it at the ring edge. Immediately the aerosol can she had in her hand was swung like a bat, twice, into Emma’s body to make her groan and double forward a little. Claire was in the hair immediately now, pulling Emma’s face up to present it to a blast from whatever was in the can, and Emma howled in anguish as her eyes started to stream. Claire smirked and launched into a flurry of punches up around the chest, shoulders and head to beat Emma down until she disappeared from view behind the apron of the ring. Claire was all action now, leaning down to grab Emma’s hair and drag her out from beneath the ring skirt. Emma’s first thought was to rub at her eyes, as they continued to stream; Claire’s first thought was to jab her in the forehead with the end of the aerosol can to put Emma on her back, looking up at the sky in this makeshift outdoor arena.

It didn’t matter how fair or otherwise this attack might have seemed in the usually woman to woman world of catfighting, in this match right now though it was perfectly legal. Something which Claire reminded those fans at ringside as she berated them while sauntering confidently in Emma’s direction. She still held the aerosol can, but went to the hair to get Emma to her knees again before stepping back a couple of paces. Emma was still struggling to see what Claire had planned for her and this time it was a low, shotgun drop-kick, feet slamming into Emma’s breasts to knock her flat in the grass at ringside. Claire got up, stood over her for a moment and delivered an elbow drop, aiming the move at Emma’s forehead and the reason for that became clear as she quickly pulled Emma up by the hair; the jet haired jezabel had succeeded in cutting Emma with her jab with the can. The elbow merely made sure that the blood flowed that little more freely as she got Emma to her knees. The lightweight champion knew this was her time to strike now, and she did so, taking a side headlock on her still kneeling foe, and she sent three short punches into her forehead. Emma was dazed, and would have gone down but for Claire still holding her up as the first beads of crimson ran down Emma’s forehead, towards the bridge of her nose. I knew that Emma had tasted her own blood in fights before. In itself, it wouldn’t bother her, but she was in there with an opponent both with the tools and the attitude to take advantage of it.

She was still blinking her eyes furiously too as Claire got to her feet and used the hair to start to lead Emma away from the ringside area altogether. The lawn of the Smythe Mansion was a sizeable area with an ornamental pond in the middle of it, and that looked to be Claire’s next port of call as she declared ‘I’ll waterboard this cunt into submission!’ Emma tried to plant her feet for a moment and resist only to take the end of the aerosol can in the belly again, subduing her as she was dragged further towards the pond, Claire using her auburn hair as a leash. ‘Let me go you bitch!’ Emma complained as she was kept under control despite slapping and clawing at Claire’s body from behind.

‘Pack it in cunt!’ Claire told her harshly, flicking back a heel kick that landed flush between her legs. Emma groaned, her legs wobbled slightly and, as the crowd stood and turned with the focus of the fight moving away from the ring. Claire was growing in confidence now, and she took the chance to show her impressive strength as she lifted Emma, carried her a little way towards the pond, then planted her with a body slam on the grass. Emma writhed in pain, finding the Smythe lawn was unforgiving to anyone landing on it, and Claire took advantage, spraying her again with the aerosol can. Emma howled indignantly, unable to see what was in front of her as she spray set her eyes streaming once more. Now on the lawn, Claire forced Emma to all fours, stood over her, straddling her back and crossed her ankles to really put the squeeze on her as she gripped her hair tightly. Emma groaned loudly, pain etched on her face as Claire’s thunder thighs went to work on her, the lightweight champion using her best assets well here. A slap cracked into Emma’s face, doing nothing to ease the way her eyes were streaming, and Claire taunted her, confident things were going her way now. ‘Submit you big bitch….You’ll soon be getting fucked by me, in front of everyone!’ she told Emma spitefully.

In the main arena area, the crowd had almost all left their seats now, walking out on to the lawn area to make sure they kept the best view of the action as Emma told Claire ‘NOOOO!’ and received another fierce slap to the face in return. It was a stinging rebuke, but Emma looked to use her greater power now, starting to try to get up, knowing she was capable of lifting Claire on her back. Claire knew it too, and had that brief moment of concern, but then she let go of the hair, uncrossed her ankles and jumped up to land on Emma’s back and flatten her in the grass. ‘Time for a fucking swim bitch!’ Claire announced confidently as she went back to the hair and led a forlorn and tired looking Emma, her eyes still streaming from the effect of the spray, to the edge of the pool. Slowly, painfully with Claire’s hands wrapped in her auburn hair, Emma was forced up in a standing position, only to be whipped over into a flying hair mare, and a landing in the cold water of the pond. The referee looked on, concerned that things were close to getting out of hand, but under the rules, not really sure she could intervene either as Claire walked into the pool and pushed Emma to her back before dropping to straddle her stomach. There was a look of pure evil in her eyes as she closed both hands over Emma’s face and pushed her back so that her head was under the water!

‘Submit you bitch….don’t make me hurt you!’ Claire told her as Emma’s arms and legs flailed frantically before Claire pulled her back out of the water and held her head up by the hair to ask ‘well? Do you submit?’

‘No’ Emma replied weakly, but a look at her eyes would have shown Claire that the effect of the aerosol spray was gone. Emma’s vision was crystal clear as Claire loomed over her, cleared by the cold water of the pool.

‘You’d better hold your breath then cunt!’ Claire practically hissed at Emma, pushing her under the water as the referee moved in closer, contemplating stopping things. Then suddenly, Claire gasped for air as Emma’s hands rushed out from under the water, throwing the cold liquid at Claire’s face before catching the jet haired jezabel with a thrust to the throat. Claire rolled off Emma into the water herself, and the fight swung back in a new direction as Emma grabbed a handful of wet jet black hair and started to pull Claire back out of the pool towards terra firma. Indeed, she practically hurled Claire from the water with that grip of the hair and a good shove, sending her sprawling on the grass in a heap. She’d barely started to roll back to her knees when Claire caught her with a kick, straight between her breasts, to knock her flat on her back. Emma took one look at her, and dived, landing on the woman she’d once considered to be a friend in a heavy splash to crush the wind out of her.

Claire groaned at that and Emma immediately made her shriek with a stomach claw. Not just any stomach claw though as she dragged her nails around to mark up Claire’s belly, all under the guise of looking for the right place to attack. She knew that location was low of course, just where the waistband would have been had Claire not been nude by now; she just took her time in getting there. Then Claire’s shriek of pain went up to a whole new level as Emma’s fingers found their mark and started to punish her all the more as she lay partly across her. ‘OOOOWWWWW!’ Claire whined as she felt the wave of pain running through her body. ‘Submit then you little cunt’ Emma told her; Claire didn’t answer, just tried to bite Emma on the shoulder. ‘No you don’t’ Emma told her quietly, coldly, as she moved position and elbowed her in the mouth, putting paid to that idea, and leaving Claire moaning in a daze in the grass.

It was a fight perhaps nearing the end. While the trip into the cold water of the pool had cleaned the blood from Emma’s forehead as well as clearing her vision, her elbow had split Claire’s lip so that it was the jet haired jezabel now showing the marks of their brutal fight. Her belly was showing them too as she screamed out in pain as Emma’s fingers and nails went back to work on her in that stomach claw that searched for, and found, every weakness in her abs.

‘OOOOWWWWW…..AAAGGGHHHHH!’ she cried out loudly, the pain fiercely assaulting her senses.

‘Ahhhh...does it hurt bitch?’ Emma shot at her, then invited her ‘submit then, go on, give up!’

‘NOOOO!’ Claire whined, and Emma broke the hold, drove a fist hard into Claire’s assaulted belly, and got off her, standing over the lightweight champion with a look of disdain on her face. ‘You asked for this’ she told Claire as she grabbed her hair and used that for force her to her feet. Claire knew that she had to fight, and she swung a right hand to Emma’s body, but it was ineffective, simply bouncing off Emma before a knee lift to the stomach cut her off. With ease, Emma lifted and body slammed her now, giving Claire a taste of the firm surface of the lawn. Claire writhed in pain as the slam knocked the stuffing out of her, and Emma wanted her back to the ring, in clear sight of everyone, not just those that had walked out on to the lawn. She peeled Claire up off the grass by the hair, kept her out of breath with another hard knee lift to the belly, and then hoisted Claire over her shoulder to carry her back towards the ring. The crowd parted as she walked through them with Claire over her shoulder, one hand roughly pawing her ass while she told Claire ‘fucking pack that in bitch!’ as the jet haired jezabel clawed at her back. She might have been struggling against it, but Claire was making no headway. Emma, her auburn hair looking several shades darked after her trip to the pool, body glistening with the water still running down it was carrying Claire with ease until she arrived back at ringside. She set her quite carefully on the ring apron now, and before Claire could regain her bearings, she had Emma’s fist in her face, knocking her back through the ropes into the ring.

It knocked her back into that daze too as it landed and as the audience rushed to find their allocated seats again, Emma was afforded a more leisurely entrance to the ring than at the start of the fight. She walked up to Claire who was barely forcing her way to her knees, and rolled her to her back again with a push of her foot. Now Emma looked down on Claire, a look on her face that could have turned someone to stone, and she stomped her foot cruelly in Claire’s belly. ‘UUMMMFFFF!’ Claire groaned loudly as Emma’s heel crushed the wind from her; worse for Claire too, Emma’s foot was already on the move to catch her square in the breasts as she sat up involuntarily. She was knocked flat, gasping for air, and Emma announced ‘this sneaky little cunt is finished!’ as she peeled her from the mat again. Claire was lifted, as if for a slam or a back breaker, but instead was deposited stomach first across Emma’s outstretched thigh, a move designed to really break that last little bit of resistance from Claire. Then Emma applied the coup de grace. Pinning Claire in place across her knee with her left arm, her right hand swiftly went between Claire’s legs, thumb in her butt, two fingers in her pussy as she applied a bowling ball claw hold.

‘AAAAAAGGGGGHHHHHHHH…..AIIIIIEEEEEEE…...OH MY GOD…...AAAAGGHHHHH!’ Claire squealed, her womanhood assaulted by the cruel hold from Emma. ‘PLEASE….’ she practically sobbed, getting no sympathy from Emma at all. She simply told her ‘submit then!’ and kept the hold on, making Claire shriek loudly in pain all over again. ‘Please’ she said again, quieter, more contrite as the pain started to break through the last vestiges of fight left in her. ‘ Please…...I submit’ she finally sobbed, totally broken by the cruel but highly effective finishing hold from Emma who broke the finishing hold and pushed Claire off her knee to the mat. There was barely a flicker of celebration though. Emma wore the expression of a woman that had just done what she had to after how Claire had tricked Jemma. Then the announcer called for the start of the punishment round, and Emma dropped heavily on to Claire in a reverse facesit, making Claire’s DD breasts the target of her clawing ire now. Her talons were sunk in as she worked Claire over harshly, while at the same time, her naked ass and pussy smothered her, making her fight for air all over again. Punches now targeted Claire’s breasts and ribs, Emma working away until her fury finally faded, and she rolled off Claire, sitting beside her, her arms drawing her knees up to her chest, and she looked at her blankly for a moment, almost unable to fathom that she’d beaten her former friend and punished her so harshly. Then she shrugged as if she recalled Claire’s actions that had led to this point, and she stood over her, surveying the marks her fists and nails had caused. There was a minute left in the punishment round, but her anger was spent and she turned on her heel, returned to the corner, and said to me ‘Steve, I’m done with her, lets go home…’

Emma left the ring, announced as still the World Champion, held her crown in her hand and walked naked across the lawn towards the Smythe Mansion without even having stopped to collect her discarded lingerie. The cheers of the crowd might have been ringing in her ears, but I could tell that her mind was somewhere else, deep in thought. This hadn’t been a fight for her title in a simple championship match; this had been personal, about defending family pride against someone who had chosen a short cut to the title. But if Claire was prepared to go down this route to get to her, who else was out there that might just be prepared to follow the same route?