Cage City: Trash Town Ring Wars by Mr. Cage (send comments and communication mrcagefight@yahoo.com)

Introduction:

In my youth I lived in small city, a county seat, tucked into a valley of a southern state bordering the Appalachians. Let’s call it Cage City for the sake of anonymity. Cage City was laid out around a central square like all old cities. The square was on the west bank of a hard running mountain river. The financial district, larger churches, better homes and entertainment spots like quality bars, movie houses, and public facilities were on that side of the river. It was understood that the swimming pool, the recreation centers, the playing fields, the parks, etc. were for those who lived west of the river. We had our place and the “Others” had theirs. This in the era before cell phones, satellite or cable, and not every home had telephones or electricity. And, being where we were in the mountains there was no television and only two local radio stations you could be sure off at any given time. The only newspaper was owned by one of the locals, my uncle in fact. There were no independent voices of dissent that lasted very long until the county sheriff, supposedly elected democratically but actually appointed by community leaders, sorted the troublemakers out. We were isolated in the 1950s back country south and the rules and customs of outsiders held no sway. Just as we were isolated from the outside world, our own community was isolated by national origin, economic class, race, religion, and just about every other damn thing.

Surrounding our part of the city on the west and south was rich farm land that climbed right up the side of the ridges to the old stand forests topping the mountains and down the valley as far as you could see. Most of these farmers were from original English colonists like those who inhabited the west bank of the town. They were various brands of Protestants and quite sure they were the owners of a place in heaven.

To the north of the city along both sides of the river was a series of lumber operations that were operating at about twenty percent of their one time maximum capacity leaving many of the lumberjacks and their families living on about twenty percent of their former income. Most of the lumbermen and their families were later arrivals from French speaking Canada. They spoke English with a decided accent and were Catholics.

East of the river in the mountains coal miners struggled to dig a meager livelihood out of the earth. The coal miners were even later arrivals from Ireland. They were a clannish lot and mixed well with no one including one another. They were Catholics as well, but had nothing in common with the lumbermen. Going to the same church just gave them more excuses for coming to blows.

Between the boundaries of the city on the east bank and the high mountains were bottom land tracts remaining from the time of the pre-civil war plantations, the original reason for Cage City’s existence. Migrants, primarily from Mexico as well as domestic traveling poor, picked the crops of the larger more efficient farms for old families of Cage City who had long moved across the river to the west bank. Remnants of the pre-civil war plantation slaves sharecropped on the smaller worked out farms or held their own tiny highly mortgaged plots. Neither group came across the bridge.

And finally we had a small population of Native Americans, called them Indians back then, who lived on the north end of the east bank in utter poverty. They have a casino these days and own half the town, but back then they were the poorest of the poor. They and the lumbermen had never accepted one another’s existence.

No one had a good life east of the river. That’s just the way things were. All these population bases were housed and serviced on the eastern bank of our fine city. It was officially part of Cage City, but in truth everyone called it Trash Town and it was connected by one old bridge across the raging water. It might have well been on another planet. The sheriff had a policy of hiring four or five of the biggest meanest bastards in each ethnic group and putting them on the streets to kick ass and take names among their own people. And, by the time I was born a tradition of letting off steam, earning a few dollars, and entertaining the mob had come into being. It had begun in the late 1800s and grown to a ritual during the depression years. It was politely referred to as the East Bank Community Meeting. Everyone called it the Trash Town Ring Wars.

I guess it was a rite of passage for a Roman Senator’s child to be taken to the arena to see blood on the sands. Well we didn’t have sand. We had a big abandoned warehouse that the mayor had painted gray and named a Community Recreation Center. I’m sure he made some kind of profit on the contract. But as it turned out the warehouse served a good purpose of bringing the ritual of public fighting indoors to a fixed venue.

Improvements had been made to keep impromptu crowd participation to a minimum. The warehouse had been divided into eight sections: lumbermen, coal miners, Indians, Mexicans, other migrants, blacks, Trash Town whites, and East Bank patrons. The division was done by hooking chicken wire to support columns; our crooked mayor probably made a profit on that too. Of course he was my maternal grandfather so I’m not really complaining. The center of the arena was an old blood-stained twelve foot square boxing ring emblazoned with Cage City in a red circle. Of course the white letters were stained rusty red for the most part. The three rope ring was surrounded a sturdier version of the chicken wire, a chain link fence that they broke down after the fights. Three spot lights illuminated the ring and put the rest of us in safe well hidden shadows. Warehouse ceiling ventilation fans managed to cool the place during the summer night to a passable ninety degrees. No joke, even in the dead of winter when the place was crowded with 98.6 degree bodies it was hot. In summer it was a sweat box. Well that’s what we had and it worked. And getting to go there and sit in the limited paid seating, about twelve folding chairs in two rows cage side in the East Bank section, was the best reward a father could give his son. It was simple times for simple folks, but no so simple entertainments.

So I sat there and cheered as I watch five extremely bloody fights between males, two between boys my age. Three were straight no rules fist fights. One fight had taped fists. One fight was done with taped fists and bike chains, a young white kid versus a black kid. The white kid had to be carried away on a stretcher. Apparently deaths and maiming occurred with some regularity. No one seemed to upset. In fact the worse the beating the hotter and louder the crowd became. And it wasn’t all males in the crowd. I’d say even our section was about thirty percent females and the others were almost fifty percent. It was an eye opening experience for me seeing how excited the women were getting by watching the violence and how angry they would get with each other.

My father explained that the fights encouraged even more fights as family and friends took up grudges from week to week, year to year and sometimes generation to generation. In fact one of the most anticipated generational grudge fights of the night was coming up. I listened intently as he explained the details. The most shocking one came after he reminded me not to talk about what I had seen with my mother or sisters. The next fight would be between two women and what a story he had to tell me. As he explained it became obvious to me that he had invested a lot of time as a fan in this dirty business and some how that made it easier for me to enjoy my own uncertain excitement, especially at the prospect of two women fighting. It was like somebody had rung a bell and suddenly I understood so much.

I listened to my father as the combatants were introduce to loud, raucous, rude and down right uncouth cheers, jeers and comments. The betting talk was loud and beyond my understanding, but the action was higher on this fight than all the others before. This was a fight with a history and all the fans seemingly had a stake.

The first woman introduced was called Hellcat Haggerty. Much to my surprise she was 56 years old, a big red head Irish woman. It turned out she had run one of the five brothels in Trash Town since she had won it by killing its forty-five year old madam in a knife fight. At the time Hellcat had been a fifteen year old hooker with two bastard children. Not exactly the type of young woman my grandmother would have known. Now Hellcat was a wealthy Trash Town business woman, mother of six, grandmother of twenty-six and ten great grandchildren, but still counting. And as yet, she had never married and it was rumored she preferred the company of her young working girls than to that of most men. No wonder Trash Town was so crowded; Hellcat had been a population explosion all by herself. Of course she had done her part to curb the population growth by killing or maiming ten women since she had won that initial fight. Tonight’s fight grew out of one of those women she killed almost forty years ago to the day.

Hellcat had killed another woman in a fight over a third woman. That had been in a strap match. She had literally whipped the woman to death in the Trash Town Ring of that era. The woman was still remembered as Mother Maggie Daily and she was trying to get her daughter out of Hellcat’s clutches. Since that fight Hellcat had maimed two of Maggie Daily’s other daughters and four of their daughters. In fact she had maimed them so severely that only two of them had had a kid after facing Hellcat. So Tonight she faced another of Mother Maggie Daily’s granddaughters. She had already started another generation and had issued her challenge to Hellcat Haggerty for another Trash Town Strap Match.

Hellcat was a big, raw boned, freckled, rusty skinned, red head. She stood tall for a woman, had broad shoulders, thick arms and legs and a thick trunk. She was rumored to be as strong as most men, but she wasn’t some muscle chick like you see today. Of course, you really didn’t see those types of muscles on anyone back then. People were strong and fit, but nobody exercised to be that way, they just worked hard. Hellcat smiled a crooked scarred smile and waved as she shed her green robe revealing she was fighting in a pair of green granny panties, I wouldn’t have know what a thong was back then. These were the first tits I remember seeing and they were excitingly gross and sexy. Dad commented expertly that in the old days she had no sag, but they were still some of the best tits in the city. I later wrote down the details of the announcer’s descriptions, my Dad’s whispered comments and my own breathless observations.

Hellcat Haggerty stood 5’9’’, weighed 177 pounds, and had a 44DD-30- 42 figure. Her bright right hair, probably dyed a bit, was tangled and curly, cut so it ballooned out around her hair in a helmet just touching her shoulders. Her face was scarred, deeply on one cheek. Her right eyebrow was uneven from an imperfect healing. Her right eyelid drooped slightly over her pale blue eyes that had seen so much blood over the years, hers and others. Her nose was bumpy and twisted slightly to the right from six breakings over the years. Her skin was covered in scars and sported thickening places where imperfect healing over facial abrasions accumulated on top of one another over forty-eight fights. She might have been called handsome for a woman her age, but the scarring and leather like skin just made her scary. Her big tits were still massively round and full. They were crowned by big pink thumb-like nipples sticking out of rubbery bumpy aureole about the size of my hand. She actually had a little red hair on her aureole just the color of the thick hair under her arms. At one time the tits had projected outward like twin zeppelins according to my father, but now they pointed downward resting their round bottoms on the swell of her belly just above where the elastic of her panties cut into pooch of her big lower belly. Even with the full panties you could see rusty pubic hair sticking out the tight crotch of her panties. She was thick with big tits, big ass and heavy thighs but she wasn’t sloppy fat, just scarily big and nasty looking.

Her challenger was still a stunner even though she had been in six fights, killing one of Hellcat’s eighteen year old granddaughters in a strap match just three months earlier, a tune-up fight according to my father just to get the old lady to acknowledge the young challenger. Mary Daily was an eighteen year old beauty with shoulder length straight ebony black hair, pale white skin marred by a couple of fight scars, and the deepest greenest eyes I had ever seen. She was Irish as well, but as my Dad said from a different tribe. She stood 5’10”, incredibly tall for those days, and weighed a very athletic 155 pounds. She was clearly stronger than an average woman, fit, and full of youthful confidence. She wore very tight white panties, exposing a thick black bush at both leg holes and along the top edge. Her breasts were solid, round and pert 38C’s giving credit to both the roundness and thickness of her strong broadly built chest. Her dark brown nipples were pointed and set in perfectly round, smooth dark brown aureole. Luckily I was sitting down in dark pants because just looking at them had giving me a wet spot.

They women glared across the ring at each other. The referee fastened a wrist band to the wrists: to the right for Hellcat and to the left for beautiful Mary. Then he fastened a two inch wide, three foot long, black leather strap studded along its length with gleaming metal grommets to the wrist bands by three inches of metal chain. The straps hung lose from their wrists and they waited in their corners.

I gathered from the announcer and my whispering Dad that the rules were designed to prolong the fight. There were rules, but no rules limiting what they could do to one another, just how long they could do it. They would go at each other without rules for as long as it took for one of them to call for a break or would call for a break in the referee’s judgment if she could. Then they would be separated. The loser of the fall would be suspended from to ropes dangling down from the over head lights and subject to five lashes for the first break, ten lashes for the second and so on. It was agreed that no one could quit before they had suffered 75 lashes, five breaks, plus another 25 lashes for quitting. It was further agreed that if Hellcat gave she would take a hundred lashes from Mary and if Mary gave she would become Hellcat’s property to be whored out like a couple of her cousins who had also lost to Hellcat. Dad predicted no one would give and it would be settled the old fashion way, someone carried to the graveyard.

The referee stood back. A bell rang and the two enemies came out of the corners, Hellcat’s big 44DD balloons swinging and bouncing and Mary’s beautiful pert 38C globes bobbing. I leaned forward transfixed. Suddenly both women struck. Mary’s left hand flicked and her strap slapped hard across Hellcat’s breasts leaving red welts along the top side of both projectiles. Hellcat’s right hand snapped and instead of Mary’s beautiful breasts her milky white face was etched by an angry red mark across the cheeks and bridge of the nose. Both women yelped, but Mary stepped back rubbing her face with her right hand.

Hellcat slashed again and this time her strap wrapped around Mary’s bent left leg. Hellcat jerked back and Mary almost fell. The strap came loose and the young black haired beauty staggered backwards to bounce of the ropes. She raised her arm to protect herself from another whipping, but the old fat bitch wasn’t waiting. She plunged forward and drove her left fist low into Mary’s belly and a second later Hellcat’s big right fist slammed into Mary’s left eye, rocking her head to the side. Hellcat’s tits splattered against Mary’s and the ring ropes sagged under the dual weight. Hellcat’s right elbow was coming back. Mary took the sharp elbow over the left eye as her head straightened. The two thirds of the crowd cheering for Mary moaned. The third yelling for Hellcat, my Dad included, roared.

Dad mumbled, “The old battleaxe hasn’t lost it yet. What a fucking bitch, what a monster cunt! Kill that little whore!
I couldn’t believe my Dad knew what those words meant. I knew that no matter what in two days we would be sitting in Church and he would be among the honored deacons. Now he was red faced, sweaty and screaming for blood. I began to understand the world was not always what it seemed.

Hellcat followed her advantage with a savage head butt that hit Mary’s perfect nose. Mary’s head hung backwards over the ropes. Blood began to dribble out of her nose. Hellcat drew back her head for another shot.

Dad yelled, “Break her nose. Shove it into her brain!”

Mary’s red finger nails came up and seized both sides of Hellcat’s ruddy face. The fingers dug in. Hellcat yelled and cursed. Mary ripped and left ten deep scratches on the old bag’s leathery face. More importantly she forced Hellcat to jerk away. Mary slashed her left arm around and connected with her strap across Hellcat’s face. The sweat flew and Hellcat yelled. She didn’t turn away. I knew I would have immediately.

Instead the old warrior drove her right foot into Mary’s white panties. It was a straight on stomp and the big dirty foot sank into Mary’s tight belly. The beauty groaned and bent over, her ass falling between the ropes. She hit the outside canvas and dangled over the edge with her feet in the ropes. Hellcat grabbed the top rope and drove her right foot down, heel first this time. It hit Mary right on the cunt. The blow drove the beauty off the apron and she hit shoulders first on the mat at ring side. Apparently there was no break.

Hellcat stepped through the ropes, reached out for the chain link fence and tried to drop feet first on Mary. Mary rolled to the side. Hellcat’s big feet hit the mat and the old woman almost fell. Instead she braced herself using the fence and readied another stomp. But Mary was ready with her own foot. Firing from her ass planted firmly on the floor she sank her right foot up between Hellcat’s fat thighs. Thud! The foot hit Hellcat’s well used cunt right in the hole, lifting the fat bitch off her feet and sending her flying backwards along the fence. She came to rest on one knee.

Mary set up and whipped Hellcat across the back. The pain seemed to revive the old bitch. Hellcat charged forward and slammed into the sitting beauty, putting the young girl flat on her back with the big pig on top straddling her hips. My Dad was going crazy now as was the entire crowd.

Mary ripped at Hellcat’s tits, but the old woman ignored the new gashes in her zeppelins and merely pounded Mary’s beautiful face with her two knotty fists. Mary took six punches, three with each hand before she had to cross her arms in front of her face. Her nose was bleeding heavily now. Her right and left eyes were swelling and clearly headed for black eyes and even her lower lip was swelling turning purplish. Mary bucked and Hellcat rode her hips. The heavy bitch had a good seat.

Hellcat grabbed the young beauty’s wrists and stretched her arms out over her head, and then the horrible bitch leaned forward and butted the beauty on the forehead three times. Mary was clearly stunned. Hellcat opened her mouth and looked to be going for a bite on Mary’s blood nose. Mary yelled out something and the referee jumped down, grabbed Hellcat’s hair and dragged her off.

They returned to the ring and the referee announced, “Winner of the first round is Hellcat Haggerty. Mary Daily will take the stand.”

They hung the love of my young life by her wrists from two ropes hanging down over the center of the ring. Someone pulled the ropes upward and lifted her six inches off the ground. The referee tied a rope around each ankle and then tied the other end to the opposite ropes, essentially opening Mary up. She shook her head back and forth throwing sweat and blood in different directions trying to get her bearings back. Then it started. Hellcat walked to the front of the beauty and delivered a savage lash across both the girl’s breasts. Mary screamed and writhed, her feet kicking helplessly against the restraining ropes. Hellcat smiled and talked a bit and then walked behind the girl. The next lash was devilish. It started behind and under. It went up between Mary’s spread legs and smacked against her pussy, protected by the thin white panties, wrapped around and left a welt on her belly. Mary howled. Hellcat struck almost immediately from behind again, but this time she wrapped the strap under Mary’s arms and across her breasts again. Mary howled and jerked in the restraints. Hellcat laughed and walked to the side. She whipped Mary across the belly leaving a dark red welt. For her final strike she chose the undersides of Mary’s tits and sent them both quivering and Mary jerking helplessly.

Hellcat Haggerty raised her arms revealing her hairy armpits and strutted around the ring yelling, “Young cunt can’t take it in the tits. Just like her grandmother, mother and all the natural born Daily whores. If she lives she goes on sale in two weeks for ten dollars a hole, one hundred dollars for the first man in.”

The crowd roared its approval. I felt tears in my eyes.

They let Mary down. She staggered to a corner and lay against the turnbuckles crying. There was a five minute break. The fighters got no refreshments, but dad bought a coke for me and a beer for himself. First round bets were settled. Mary’s supporters did not look happy. Hellcat’s bettors had to offer longer odds to get any more action.

The second round started. This time Mary circled away from Hellcat. The old bitch’s strap missed three times. She started cursing Mary for being a filthy coward. Then she started talking about Mary’s newly born daughter and promised that the girl would follow Mary into the whorehouse.

Mary screamed and lunged forward. Hellcat blocked the lash with her right arm and drove her left fist straight into Mary’s face. Mary’s head snapped backwards and she staggered back against he ropes again! I almost closed my eyes. Hellcat’s lash came down across Mary’s tits again. Mary groaned and set down on the middle rope. Hellcat’s foot was already heading for Mary’s belly. Mary grabbed the top ropes. Hellcat’s foot drove into her belly and drove her ass back through the ropes, but Mary held on. She grabbed Hellcat’s right leg; the big bitch’s foot was still in Mary’s belly. The battered beauty held onto the foot and took a sharp right to the face. Mary’s head rocked, but the beauty had a plan!

Holding Hellcat’s gut busting foot tight against her belly, the black haired youngster sitting on the second rope kicked out and knocked Hellcat’s left leg out from under her. Hellcat yelped and went down on her left knee, her right foot still caught on Mary and the second rope. Mary bounced off the roped and stood up holding Hellcat’s leg up. Hellcat braced herself on her left hand and kept upright despite having her own knee pressed against her tit. She whipped her right hand up and ripped at Mary’s panties pulling them down. Mary ignored her exposure and savagely pushed backwards on Hellcat’s leg.

Hellcat moaned and had to bend backwards, her left foot trapped under her ass. Mary had moved Hellcat’s trapped right leg to her left shoulder. She took aim and drove her right knee into Hellcat’s green panty covered mound. The solid thud vibrated through the ring to the floor. I swear I could feel it in my feet. Hellcat groaned and reached upward. Mary thought her tits were the target and guarded them, but Hellcat was an experience old fighter. Instead, the old bitch whipped her lash around Mary’s neck and went for an old fashioned choke.

Mary lurched backwards against the lash. Hellcat twisted on her ass and suddenly her left leg was free and sweeping under Mary to hit her left ankle. Mary yelped and hit the mat on her side, her neck caught by Hellcat’s twisted strap. Hellcat drew back her right foot and drove it into Mary’s face. Using the strap around the back of the girl’s neck, Hellcat pushed her big foot into Mary’s bloody face. Hellcat sat on her fat ass and laughed as she gave Mary a foot facial. Sweat rolled off the old woman in waves and she sucked in air as she rested while safely tormenting Mary.

Suddenly Hellcat’s laughter changed to curses. Mary was bending her toes! Hellcat jerked her foot away and let go of the free end of the strap. Mary was free! Hellcat kicked out and knocked Mary back to the ropes before rolling over to her knees to stand. Mary’s supporters were yelling for her to escape. She rolled under the ropes and dropped to the mats inside the cage.

Hellcat rushed the ropes, but Mary rose up and whipped her lash around Hellcat’s ankles, catching them both perfectly. Mary jerked and suddenly Hellcat was on her ass being dragged under the bottom rope. Hellcat kicked her legs and almost knocked Mary into the side of the cage, but Mary pushed the legs aside, grabbed the waist band of Hellcat’s green panties and jerked them down. Hellcat had gotten Mary’s panties rolled down over her ass, but not to her thighs. Mary succeeded in pulling Hellcat’s panties down over her fat thighs exposing a massive red rusty bush and the biggest thickest cunt lips I can image existing, I’ve seen a lot since and none so thick, hairy or big. And Hellcat’s clit and hood was so obvious it was like a small pig in a blanket. The crowd roared its approval at Hellcat’s humiliation.

Even Dad, her supporter, laughed, “What a hairy cunt beast!”

Mary grabbed a handful of the red bush and ripped. Hellcat screamed as a wad of her pubic hair was ripped away from her hairy sex and she fell from the ring apron to hit on her ass with her legs suspended above tied up in Mary’s lash.

Hellcat twisted on her ass and freed her ankles. Mary kicked the bitch full in the face. Hellcat’s head snapped and she rolled over against the cage her nose pouring blood. Mary knee dropped onto Hellcat’s tits and belly, both knees doing good work deep into the big bitch’s fat tits and round belly. Hellcat groaned and reached up to claw Mary’s nipples. Mary grimaced and took the pain. She smashed Hellcat in the face with her right fist while holding the fence with her left hand and using her knees as rollers on Hellcat’s tits and belly. Hellcat’s nose and mouth opened up and she was hurt, stunned and helpless. Mary started to shift her knee to Hellcat’s neck and Hellcat waved.

The referee grabbed Mary’s hair and pulled her off. They returned to the ring and the referee announced, “Winner of the second round is Mary Daily. Hellcat Haggerty will take the stand.”

They hung the stunned old bitch by her wrists from the two ropes hanging down over the center of the ring. They repeated the procedure they had on Mary and the Hellcat was suspended and spread. Since Mary hadn’t gotten the panties all the way off the stretched out green things were again in place. Mary cursed Hellcat and swung five hard lashes one after another across Hellcat’s big balloons. Dad mentioned that Hellcat had whipped Mary’s mother tits bloody and eventually bitten off both nipples before killing her. Mary was going for tit revenge. Hellcat was a tough old bitch, but as the welts crisscrossed her tits she writhed in the restrains and cursed against the agony. It was over far too soon as far as I was concerned. My father made another bet on Hellcat. He assured me she had lost a lot of rounds but she was a stubborn as an old mule and would never give in as long as she could still breathe. He predicted a whole new level of nastiness now.

Mary’s supporters were loud and joyous. I wanted to cheer, but I figured I needed to appear to be loyal to my Dad’s chose. I looked at Mary’s painful smile and worried about her swelling eyes, split lip and damaged face. Her forehead had a huge knot on it turning dark black where Hellcat had tried to bust her open. The lashes had put deep welts all over her and I marveled that she was so happy that she had hurt her tormentor even at such a terrible cost. I looked over at Hellcat hoping to see defeat in her pale evil blue eyes and what I showed was pure pleasure! She was enjoying this! I wanted to scream out a warning that Mary was fighting a mad woman, but she wouldn’t have heard and besides the whole thing was animalistic mixed with human madness.

The third round started. Mary lashed Hellcat twice as the big woman plodded after the younger fighter. Maybe the old whore madam was exhausted! I heard some conjecture that “the Old Cunt has had her day.” My dad disagreed, but I could tell he had some doubts now and he didn’t take a shouted bet from one of Mary’s supporters.

Mary caught Hellcat across the tits again. Hellcat groaned and ignored the blood seeping from a gashed right nipple. Mary was running out of room. Suddenly the old fighter rushed. Mary started to sidestep, but ran into the ropes! She kicked out to the front going for Hellcat’s crotch. Hellcat took the kick on her thigh and rammed full speed into the taller, thinner woman. Mary grunted as Hellcat’s slab of meat smashed into her and drove her along the rope into the corner right above where I was seated.

Hellcat leaned against Mary pinning her in the corner and started punching with both fists into Mary’s sides and kidneys. Mary pounded on Hellcat’s back and even bit her shoulder, but the fat bitch’s toes dug into the mat and she pushed all her weight into the young avenger. Mary started groaning as Hellcat’s fists tenderized her young ribs. Hellcat had away of driving her fists up at an ankle that seemed to catch Mary’s ribs and separate them. Mary raked her claws down the length of Hellcat’s broad freckled back leaving bloody trail after trail. The old war whore moaned, but she kept working on Mary’s body. Mary reached down and grabbed the back of Hellcat’s panties and jerked them upward. It wasn’t as effective as a thong wedge would become in the fights I staged in the seventies, but soon Hellcat’s hairy cunt was sticking out around her green panty. Even then the old bitch ignored the sawing on her pussy and continued the body beating.

Mary moaned and her arms began to flop rather than hit. She twisted her head to the side and for a moment I saw agony in her eyes and suddenly realized she was going to give again. I wanted to yell out, to help her, but it was too late she waved to the referee.

I wiped my face as though it was sweaty to keep the tears off my cheeks as Hellcat’s supporters cheered. Hellcat took her sweet time with the lash. Ten strikes seemed to take three times as long and do ten times the damage as the first five. Hellcat concentrated on Mary’s nipples this time. She had both raw and bleeding at the fifth stroke and dripping by the tenth. Mary’s pale tits were bright red except where they were dark blue. I swear you could see the heat rising off the welted flesh as it swelled a cup size before my eyes and I know I could see blood and lymph dripping from her raw brown red nipples. Oh the agony she was in!

Even worse, Mary could barely straighten up and lift her arms. Her ribs were bright red and turning dark brown and blue now. Dad said Hellcat was the best body beater in Trash Town and that another round of it and Mary wouldn’t be able to raise her arms. I believed him and said a prayer for a miracle. It couldn’t be fair for this ugly old bitch to destroy the young beauty I had fallen in love with from ringside. Apparently God was elsewhere that day or decided that that the women had to fend for themselves. No lightning bolts intervened and the fourth round was started.

Mary fought with her arms down protecting her ribs. She also stopped retreating afraid to get trapped in the ropes. Instead she slugged it out toe to toe with the big bitch in the center of the ring. Mary had Hellcat bleeding again and staggering a couple of times, but Hellcat just couldn’t be stopped. He big boney fists hammered Mary’s one time beauty turning her face into a swollen mask of tortured flesh, bruises and blood.
The battling went back and forth. Mary’s tits and face were rearranged again and again, but she stood there slugging back. Hellcat’s drooping tits were flattened again and again. Uppercuts sent them flying back and forth. Hellcat groaned and took the tit pain and hammered back.

Hellcat was blowing hard. I thought the old bitch had finally run out of gas. Then Mary went for the kill. Hellcat must have been waiting. She ducked under the roundhouse right and drove her left upward at a deep angle to take Mary in her extended and twisted ribs. I swear I heard something crack. Mary wailed and her right arm dropped to protect her rib. As it did Hellcat’s right sank deep into Mary’s white panty. Mary spit out a mouthful of air and bile. She bent over paralyzed for a moment.

Then the most shocking blow was thrown. A glancing right fist bounced off Mary’s forehead. Mary’s head snapped back, but she wasn’t stunned. It would have been a simple off target blow if it hadn’t been for the head butts earlier. Instead, the big knot on her forehead seemed to burst. Mary’s once pristine forehead split open and a cascade of hot blood poured into both her eyes. Mary staggered around, blinded by her own blood. The crowd roared and she backed away rubbing at her eyes.

I squinted through my eyes and braced for it. Hellcat’s dirty right foot drove into Mary’s panties. Mary groaned and lowered her bloody hands to her crotch, her mouth open in a twisted moan. My beauty was flat footed, bent over and defenseless. Perhaps it wouldn’t have mattered in a fight against someone her own age, but Hellcat was a merciless warrior and she never missed a chance to capitalize on an opponent’s momentary weakness. I saw the punch begin below Hellcat’s wide hips. Hellcat’s right fist flew upward lifted by the full force of the big beast’s aged muscles and massive weight. The boney knuckles hit Mary on the point of her chin. The beauty’s teeth clashed together. Her head snapped back. And the black haired teen fell forward like a stiff board, like one of those cartoon knockouts. The referee called the round right then and there.

They pulled Mary to her feet and strung her up. She opened her mouth. The crowd gasped. She had broken her perfect teeth, driving two of them through the top of her lip, shredded it. Blood dripped from her gaping mouth and her head swung low. Hellcat used the lash on the meat of Mary’s tits this time. There wasn’t an inch of those 38c globes that was not raw and weeping by the end of the fifteenth lash. Somebody mumbled that Hellcat had given her a set of blue tits for sure. And looking at those swollen masses of hot pain I had to agree they were turning purple before my very eyes.

They lowered Mary and she fell in a heap. They pulled her up and threw her in her corner and she just sobbed. It was terrible to see such a proud woman so totally destroyed. Hellcat taunted her. Mary tried to pull herself up but she pitched forward and wretched on the canvas. Hellcat laughed out loud and called for the round to start.

I couldn’t believe it. The fight would continue!

Mary rose up on her knees and defiantly whipped at Hellcat with her lash. Hellcat took the weakly thrown lash on her thigh and drove her foot into the pit of Mary’s much abused lower belly. Mary pitched forward on all fours. Hellcat kicked her hands out from under her and then stepped on the middle of the girl’s back. Mary clawed at the canvas.

Hellcat grabbed Mary’s white panties and methodically ripped them off the young girl exposing her exquisite black bush and tight pussy. Then the big bitch put the lash across Mary’s white ass like she was whipping a bad school girl. Mary howled as her ass was turned bright red and then crisscrossed with bloody welts. The lash rose and fell, biting into the fear white, then pink, then red, then bloody, and then bloody blue flesh. I waited for the referee to stop it, but my Dad said Mary could call for a break at any time. She wasn’t helpless, she was just pain crazed.

Hellcat dropped her knee down across the small of Mary’s back, reached between her legs from behind and actually penetrated her with four of her fat fingers. Mary stiffened and screamed out her abject surrender. Having the fat bitch’s hand up her cunt had awakened Mary to her situation.

Hellcat stood up licking her fingers greedily and shouted, “The Hellcat’s been there boys and I can tell you she’s no virgin, but her cunt’s as sweet as fine wine. Two weeks and you can fill it with all you want, no raincoats necessary. I want this bitch dripping cum for the rest of her pathetic life. Let this be a lesson to any bitch who thinks she can take on a Haggerty and enjoy the fruits of a victory. Not while the Hellcat rules Trash Town!”

The main debate going on around us as to whether they’d want to risk one of Hellcat’s girls without their raincoats, rubbers they meant. How could they be so cruel?

Then Dad leaned down and whispered, “I can tell you like her. If she lives, I’ve got a first call with Hellcat for all her new whores. You can tap that pussy as your first.”

Well that thought buzzed in my head. I watched as Mary took twenty lashes that left her tits and now exposed cunt dripping blood. She was unable to rise for the next round so they strung her up for another twenty five. When she couldn’t lift her head they declared the fight over and strung her up for the last twenty five. Thankfully she stopped screaming and passed out long before the pieces of her meat and blood stopped splattering the mat.

Hellcat Haggerty had won again and continued the dominance of the House of Haggerty over the House of Daily. I would have cried, but I had to be tough enough to last through three more fights, all male. I didn’t want my Dad to think I was a pussy or something.

Two weeks and a day later I had seen two more fight nights and seen six more women fights. I was an old hand in Trash Town. I found I enjoyed the mayhem, particularly between the women. It was the beginning of my twisting, the making of the man.

My toughness paid off and Dad kept his promise. Dad was greeted by Hellcat and her oldest daughter, who managed things. Hellcat still bore the marks of the fight, but she moved like nothing was wrong with her. Her daughter told me Mary wasn’t much to look at yet, but she was useable and compliant.

Mary was a battered, swollen, broken girl, nothing like the proud beauty I had fallen in love with. She whimpered as she sucked my cock. Hellcat had her three broken teeth removed and not bothered to fit her with a denture. Despite that, she got me hard and after that I decided that I would worry about the terribleness of the world another day. I jammed my young cock into her pussy and pounded away until I came filling her pussy with my juice. She thanked me weakly as she stood dripping cum, probably the first of a lifetime of dripping cum. I knew she would never again be what I thought she was, but that was okay, I had grown my first layer of emotional armor.

As we left there was a waiting line of about a dozen ready to follow me in. Well, she had been a warrior goddess, but she lost. Now she was a broken down Trash Town Whore. I was one of the Chosen Sons. I couldn’t be too worried about what happened to my discarded playthings, could I?

The End of another Cage Fight

I think the Trash Town Ring Fights are good for a few more stories which explains the long set up. Comments and suggestions welcomed. Criticisms accepted and ignored unless I agree with them.