WARNING: This is a fantasy of extreme nature about violent, brave, lusty people who are willing to personally suffer the consequences or reap the rewards of their actions with out regards to the norms of modern society or the qualms of conscious. Don’t read it if you are not interested in such topics or at all squeamish. Also, make sure you are mature enough to know the difference between illusion and reality. This is not a how to book.

Rural Route Nine by Mr. Cage (send comments and communication mrcagefight@yahoo.com)

I picked up Bobbie Jo one hundred and twenty miles south of the city at a roadside shack which sported a thirty year old worn paint peeled sign that claimed that it was a bar providing nightly entertainment. From the safety of the gravel and mud parking lot, a wide space in the road actually, I made a solemn promise never to visit the place day or night. I was here for one reason and that was to pick up the nineteen year old bleached blonde.

Bobbie Jo had that wanton sexuality of a hot young slut with little no prospects other than fucking and partying until she knocked up or thrown in jail for hanging with the wrong boyfriend. She was an ignorant red neck honey and she looked to be perfect for what we had planned. Of course, when you are putting together a private fight between bitches you end up scrambling to replace one or both of the fighters about ninety percent of the time. And when a fight actually happens, you don’t often get the wild, long battle you had wanted. More often than not you get a mismatch, a beat down with one girl quitting about twenty seconds into the fight. Me and my co-conspirator had worked out a system of incentives that usually kept the girls fighting until one was totally helpless, usually knocked out at least.

The girl’s tanned belly was covered in sweat as was her dirty white t-shirt she had tied under her ample breasts. Bobby Jo stood about 5’9’’ in her worn sandals. She wore cutoff jeans, oil stained and frayed, in addition to her white muscle t-shirt. Her arms were tanned dark brown as was every bit of her body I could see. She had a habit of leaning forward showing her cleavage and from the ample territory there she was deep tanned there as well. She was carrying a backpack by the strap. She pulled out a bottle of beer and had her nine o’clock in the morning breakfast of champions.

Her face was attractive, not spectacular but attractive and definitely sexy, typical of most young girls. Her long nose had a slight bump. Her chin and right cheek had small scars from some time in the past. Her ears were pierced, but unadorned today; she had taken out her studs and rings. There was a barbed wire tattoo around her right bicep; a dagger through a red heart on the immense swell of her right tit, and a set of wings just above the crack of her ass. She wasn’t the type of chick you brought home to mom.

Bobby Jo had that long, ranging hard body that only the very young or the very diligent can maintain. What promised a good performance were her relatively wide shoulders, muscular arms, hard rippled belly and rock hard thighs. She had claimed to have been a basketball player, a softball pitcher and a high school cheerleader for the football squad before dropping out at sixteen. Since then she had worked in a shirt factory and stripped at the dive where I had just met her formally

While I frequent some pretty seedy establishments, South Georgia is not a place I go to voluntarily in any season, but in summer forget about it. I had found her from a friend in the state troopers who had arrested her three weeks earlier for fighting after a fender bender just off the interstate. Charges were dropped, but he knows what I like and gave me a call. I called her at the phone contact she had left, her mother’s. Three calls later I found her working at the bar. Amazingly, with nothing more than a phone call from a distant stranger she had listened to my proposal and was hot from the start. Her only question was, “How bad do you want me to kick this nigger’s ass?”

She proceeded to confirm in a hundred different ways she was a good old fashioned, ignorant red-necked rebel yell girl. At one time of my life I felt sorry for people who for one reason or another had dead-end lives chained by common ignorance and plain old bad luck. Nowadays for me the milk of human kindness has dried up at the tit. I tell the bitches what they are getting into, I make sure they are treated fairly and get what they bargained for, whether they like it or not. I don’t fuck anybody over. But I don’t stop them from fucking themselves over. That’s as far as I put myself out. If you can’t live with that then fuck off, you’re too good to be following this.

We drove and drove. She asked if I wanted a blow job for the road. I thanked her but said no. It was kind of sad because she just expected to be used. Like I said, it’s not my fucking fault that the world sucks and that folks have a hard road to travel. She smiled and said I didn’t know what I was missing. I’ll bet she was a good fuck, but I had to have a hard heart and fucking her would have obligated me. I drove on glancing at her hard nipples as they seemed to threaten to shred through the sweaty fabric of her t-shirt.

Bobbie Jo was lean, strong, 5’9’’ about 140 hard female pounds, with brown eyes, chipped red nails, bleached blonde butch cut hair. Apparently she had her long brown hair cut off by a wife and two girl friends after a three on one beating when she was seventeen. She assured me she had fucked them all up one at a time over the next year. She bleached what was left of her hair blonde and adopted a butch cut, which was so striking it earned her extra table dance money from her local customers. She liked the tough girl look anyway. She could tell her girl fight stories were having an affect on my cock and she sprinkled them with details and stream of slang. Not what you take home for mom, but perfect for me!

Damn she was put together. She stretched and I got a good view of her heavy, high, almost perfectly round upward tilting 40D breasts. I would have guessed they were stripper tits since they were so perfect, so round and so firm. However, I knew this poor country bitch hadn’t been within fifty miles of a plastic surgeon. They were just big, round, tight, young girl tits. It was about the only fat on the girl and had truth been told they were so firm that to call them fat would be unfair. And the forty inch measurement was as much to do with her broad back as anything else. Still they were round and lush, big but not sloppy big. She was a hard body for sure, 40D 22 33 with long strong legs, raw boned with outsized feet and hands.

We pulled off the interstate, took a couple of state roads, then I turned off on Rural Route Nine, a once paved so-called two lane road that wound from West Jesus all the way to East Jesus, nowhere to nowhere else. I passed broken down farm houses, fields, creeks, orchards and woods. Nine dirt lanes pass junction with Rural Route 321 and I turned off the now gravel road onto a dirt lane. The long abandoned fields were overgrown. Fifty feet off Rural Route Nine and I could have been anywhere. The dirt road ended at a burnt out shack with some broken down farm buildings scattered around.

Chester, my co-conspirator, was already there. This was his bank’s land, foreclosed years ago and sitting in an owned property trust, forgotten by everyone. His black van was parked under an old shade tree. The ground in front of the burnt out house was nothing but dirt, dry and dusty. I pulled in behind him and told Bobbie Jo to get ready.

Chester is a short skinny black guy, a good family man, a church deacon and a pillar of the community. I’ve even thought of having him front for state house seat. You can never have too many dishonest friends in high places. We have one major thing in common; we like to watch women fight. We met on the internet even though we lived with ten minutes of one another we would have never met in real life. After six weeks of chatting we planned and executed our first fight, a disappointed roll around between two strippers. As disappointing as it was, it was a start.

Chester’s thing was black white fights. I really don’t care about that, but I do like the hatred angle. If we couldn’t find chicks with a personal grudge then we might as well use what we had to work with good old fashion trailer trash mutual racial animosity. So we started out with a division of labor. He found the black girls and I found the white girls. We split expenses and put on a show for the girls that we barely knew each other. He talked up the black pride thing and I did the white bitches rule stuff.

Chester opened the van and announced, “Keisha Jones.”

I knew all about Keisha. She was an eighteen year old street hooker from South Atlanta with six short stays in kid jail. She was supposedly tough as nails and a dirty fighter. She bragged she had bit off another girl’s nipple in a prison dorm fight. She looked nasty enough to have done it. I knew Bobbie Jo was in for a rough ride.

Keisha stood 5’7’’ and weighed one hundred and fifty-four pounds. She had thick arms and legs, a big ass and a nice set of tits. Her skin was coal black and her kinky hair was cut down to fine fuzz on the skull. Her face was not attractive to me, but maybe Chester liked it. She sported a 38DD 28 40 figure. She was reportedly strong as a man her size and even though she was meaty you could see she had muscles in her dark arms and shoulders. She came out of the truck wearing a hot pink string bikini which might have been comical to somebody only interested in skinny chicks, but it made her look hot and dirty.

I opened the door to my sedan and announced, “This is Bobbie Jo Bonner.”

Bobbie Jo climbed out of the car. She had told me she had the perfect outfit for this fight in her bag. She came out of the sedan wearing a confederate flag stars and bars bikini, straight out of stock car heaven.

Keisha puffed up immediately and started waving her hands, “Fucking Cracker Cunt, you want some of this here.”

Bobbie Jo drawled, “Shut the fuck up nigger whore. I’m going to whip your fat ass all day long.”

They started for each other. Chester grabbed his and I grabbed mine. Well this was promising! We got them calmed down and reminded them of the special rules of the match. Five minutes later they were standing about a foot apart glaring at each other in silence. Sweat was already running down their bodies, curling over their curves. The temperature was a humid ninety and promised to get much hotter. It was going to be a hot day on Rural Route Nine.

Chester flipped a coin. Keisha called tails. It hit in the dirt and I informed them it was heads.

I went behind Keisha and took her arms holding them to her sides by the elbows. Chester did the same to Bobbie Jo.

I said, “First slap to Bobbie Jo.”

Chester let go of her right hand. Bobbie Jo snapped out her right hand it hit with five open fingers on the left side of Keisha’s sweaty face. Keisha gasped in shock. Sweat flew and her head snapped to the side.

Keisha cursed and struggled for a second, but I held her and said, “Your turn next. Remember if you break the rules she gets the prize money and a free shot at you.”

Chester said, “Two slaps to Keisha.”

I let go of the black girl’s right hand and she snapped Bobbie Jo’s face around like a top. I grabbed the right and let go of the left. The left hit Bobbie Jo across the mouth with another savage slap. The bleached blonde groaned and staggered. Chester’s grip help steady her. Her tanned cheeks glowed and her eyes burned.

I said, “Next two slaps to Bobbie Jo.”

Smack! Splat! Back and forth they went. Tears formed in both sets of eyes. Cheeks began to swell. Sweat poured off their bodies. First blood went to Bobbie Jo when her twenty-first slap opened up Keisha’s puffy upper lip. That was five hundred in Bobbie Jo’s bag. Second blood went to Bobbie Jo when Keisha’s left cheek started bleeding on the thirty-third slap, another two hundred and fifty to the white bitch. Keisha earned two hundred and fifty dollars when her forty-sixth slap opened a cut on Bobbie Jo’s swollen left cheek. After fifty slaps we returned to our girl and took them to the cars for a five minute rest.

Bobbie Jo was in agony. Her face was puffed up like a balloon and even the palms of her hands looked like they had been burnt. She swallowed half a bottle of water before speaking.

“I cut up that cunt good. I hate this test business. How long before I can get down with her?”

“Take your time. Soften her up and put some more money in the bank. Next you get to work on her guts, make her fall down or puke and you pocket a thousand, but make sure you hurt her. Believe me, if you can gut her before the all-in fight you’ll have her dead to rights,” I advised.

Bobbie Jo touched her puffy cheeks and looked in the rearview mirror, “Shit, I’m going to look like my I did after my Daddy beat me half to death when he caught me fucking Johnny Kendal when I was twelve.”

Like I said, I didn’t fuck up these bitches; they came prepackaged and ready for use. I was beginning to hope Bobbie Jo came out on top. Of course, if I had been helping Keisha I’m sure I would have identified with her.

The break was over and we brought the girls almost nose to nose. They were breathing heavy, not from exhaustion, but from anticipation. They both wanted to get their knuckles into the other girl’s belly.

We positioned them. First round was with the left arm hooked over the opponent’s right shoulder, left hand gripping the back of the neck pulling the girl down so her forehead rested on the left shoulder of her opponent. Bent over and pressed together they were to punch each other’s body non-stop for five minutes. If someone fell to their knees or vomited, the other scored a thousand bucks.

At the yell to start they began to pump their hard fists into each other’s unprotected bellies. The pounding and grunting went on and on. They slowly moved in a circle, their dirty feet kicking up dust as they slow danced face to shoulder, punching away. Racial slurs started almost immediately, stopped only by sudden grunts and groans as someone’s fist scored. At the end of five minutes they were gasping and groaning, punching hard and slow. Neither girl had fallen. We broke them apart and they staggered around cursing and trying to get back at each other.

After we calmed them down we repeated the position, but with the right arm over the left shoulder and the left hand doing the damage. Bobbie Jo showed the first true pain. She almost leapt up on her toes as the tough thick black girl succeeded in getting her hard knuckles through the slender white girl’s hard belly. Bobbie Jo’s punches lost their power for the last minute and her groans grew desperate as Keisha dug her fist up into the white girl’s gut.

When we pulled them apart Bobbie Jo gasped, “Fucking nigger got me bad. I pissed myself, but I didn’t fall down.”

I looked at Bobbie Jo’s crotch, but her bikini was already soaked with her own sweat. Her belly had gone from slick tanned browned to blotchy red and darkening blue. Keisha’s coal black skin showed little damage, but I had no doubt her guts were churning. Her fat pads may have helped her avoid a penetrating shot, but I’d bet she was hurting there now at least as much as the slender white girl.

The next round was my favorite, breast slapping. The girls stood at arm length and exchange full blooded slaps to each other’s bikini covered breasts. Keisha won the toss and slammed down her right hand on the top of Bobbie Jo’s left tit. It sounded like a gun shot. Crack! Bobbie Jo moaned and a sweaty hand print showed immediately on the exposed part of her large breast. Bobbie Jo got the next two slaps. The black girl’s softer tits flopped hard with each slap. The left won was knocked out of its cup and I saw she had a tiny pointed nipple in the middle of a hand sized bumpy aureole. That was going to be an advantage in the nipple twisting that was sure to follow.

Bobbie Jo laughed at Keisha’s nip slip. The laughter was cut off as one black hand after another slapped down across the top of her round white breasts. The pink cups of Keisha’s bra were soon twisted under her flopping tits and Bobbie Jo’s big hands knocked the black girl’s ample tit meat back and forth. Keisha took twenty slaps to work the confederate flag bikini cup off Bobbie Joe’s left breast. The white girl’s brown nipple was like a thumb seated atop of a swollen cupola aureole. The whole projection was a least an inch and a half out of the tit meat. Keisha slapped away at the exposed nipple, but it didn’t soften. In fact, it hardened if anything.

After fifty slaps they retired again to the cars for water and rest. Bobbie Jo was pissed that the black girl hadn’t fallen to a tit slap. Her own round hard tits were now dark brown to dark red and her left nipple was raw, but she obviously had tough tits. She had fully expected the softer black tits to cave in under her slapping assault.

Actually, we found that most girls can stand up to this slow accumulation of damage. The face slapping almost always brings blood and makes them think the bigger bonuses for gutting and tit slapping are easy. My experience shows that once the girls are into a fight the tit slapping rarely brings anybody down. Now the belly punching can often end the fight, but Bobbie Jo had survived her weak moment and I thought she had a reasonable chance to take it if she lasted through the mauling phase.

After the rest and the adjustment of their bikini tops we met again in the center of the dusty yard. Despite the static nature of the fight to date, both ladies’ legs were dirty now up to the knee. The dust stuck to the sweaty skin whether you rolled in the dirt or not.

We reiterated the rules of the maul. No strikes of any kind to the neck or head. No chokes, no hair pulling, no face gouging, no attacks of any kind above the neck. No submission holds to the limbs. The point of any action was to maul the tits, cunt or ass of the opponent. Any hold had to be to the body or involve one of the scoring areas. Penalties would be severe. First, five hundred bucks would be taken from the violator and given to the victim of each infraction, but more importantly the violator would suffer three free punches to the target area of choice before the mauling would resume.

Other than violations the action would be stopped by submission. Each submission scored the winner five hundred dollars and cost the loser a free punch to the target area of choice. The maul would last three five minute rounds.

We started them with a hand on each tit and yelled go. The bikini tops were ripped off in seconds. The women screamed and savaged each other with abandon. We had found that after holding back during the more controlled portions of the fight that once they were allowed to go to work they did so with much more determination than if they had started with no previous experience.

Keisha was giving Bobbie Jo’s nipples a brutal pinch and twist that had the white girl on her toes cursing and moaning. Bobbie Jo’s fingers were deep in the black flesh of Keisha’s tits. Her whole tit was stretched out from the chest, crushed and twisted. Keisha grunted and gasped, but she wasn’t dancing like the white girl. Obviously the deep mauling was less immediately painful than the nipple work.

Bobbie Jo howled and ripped back and forth on Keisha’s full tits jerking the black girl around in a circle. Keisha lost a nipple pinch and grabbed for the white girl’s full round breast. Even sinking her black fingers in deep she couldn’t get a handle on Bobbie Jo’s tit meat, it was just too full to much like a half globe planted on the chest.

Bobbie Jo jerked again and stuck her right foot out tripping Keisha. The black girl lost both her grips and hit the ground with the black girl jumping on her back. Bobbie Jo’s arms went around Keisha and grabbed both tits. Keisha bucked up and the white girl wrapped her long legs around the thicker girl’s waist.

Keisha rose up on her knees and clawed at the back of Bobbie Jo’s hands while the white girl hung off her back by the leg scissors and tit maul. Bobbie Jo leaned back and overbalanced Keisha. The black girl ended up on her side being crushed between Bobbie Jo’s rock hard thighs while having both tits pulled, twisted and crushed. Keisha finally yelled out a submission and Bobbie Jo pocketed five hundred bucks. Keisha was stood up. Bobbie Jo selected her target and drove a nasty full blooded upper cut straight into the black girl’s mound. Keisha went down in a heap holding her cunt and cursing.

The cunted black girl got a minute to stand and finish the five minute round. She had a minute to go. She stood and we again started them in the tit maul position. Keisha bore up under Bobbie Jo’s jerking tactics and focused on the white girl’s big raw nipples. The round came to an end with Bobbie Jo howling in fury as both her nipples wept lymph.

During the rest I reminded Bobbie Jo that the cunt was an excellent target. Keisha was intent on taking Bobbie Jo’s burning nipples home as a prize. The black girl crushed, pulled and twisted them from the beginning of the second round. Bobbie Jo howled, but somehow she stayed focused. Instead of going for the tit jerk, she dropped both hands to Keisha’s pink string bikini and ripped it away. Just having her hairy cunt exposed seemed to shock the black girl. She paused and looked down like she didn’t believe she was exposed.

Bobbie Jo’s left hand grabbed the furry triangle and ripped upward. Now the black girl cursed and went to her tip toes. Her hands left the white girl’s raw nipples and went straight for her left wrist. While Keisha tried to free her bush from Bobbie Jo’s ripping grip, the white girl hooked her right fingers up into the black girl’s exposed pussy. With the hair on her mound ripped upward, Keisha’s fleshy dangling cunt lips flopped in the open air. Three of Bobbie Jo’s white fingers were already shoved between the black lips into the dark pinkness inside. I remembered those chipped red nails, some long and some jagged. Oh my god, could Keisha howl!

Instead of surrendering Keisha screamed out a curse and smashed Bobbie Jo in her smiling mouth. The white girl went down bleeding from a split lip. Keisha jumped on top of her and started swinging. Chester grabbed her and dragged her off. I grabbed Bobbie Jo who was already lunging forward from the knees. We held them apart until both succumbed to exhaustion. Chester and I exchanged small smiles.

Keisha was charged five hundred bucks, taking away her bonus and two hundred and fifty from her minimum guarantee of one thousand. Worse I got to hold her up for Bobbie Jo. The tall white girl took aim and drove her right fist straight into the swollen meat of Keisha’s left breast. I felt the thud through Keisha’s body. Chester later described the blow as a boob buster. Keisha moaned low in her belly and her legs folded.

I held her in place for a second punch. This time I figured Bobbie Jo would go for the cunt, but instead she chose the left breast again. Keisha writhed in my arms. Bobbie Jo fixed her eyes and warned it was coming again. Keisha cursed her non-stop. Then thud. The fist crushed the left breast again and I allowed Keisha to fall to the ground. She held her breast and moaned between curses.

After the break the black girl stood up still cupping her breast which looked to be swelling before my eyes. Bobbie Jo’s nasty racial slurs were non stop now. She was enjoying the destruction of this perfect stranger who somehow had become an object of hatred.

They went back to the tit maul position. Keisha dodged her hips back as soon as Bobbie Jo dropped her hands. Keisha then jerked up on Bobbie Jo’s nipples. The white girl’s tits deformed a little, but she was on her toes immediately. Keisha suddenly drove her knee upward and took Bobbie Jo right in the stars and bars flag.

Stunned by the perfectly legal move, the white girl fell backwards hard; the white girl’s nipples jerked free from Keisha’s crushing fingers. Bobbie Jo screamed on her back and grabbed her nipples. Keisha stomped on the hated flag bikini and gave Bobbie Jo some more cunt treatment. Bobbie Jo kicked out and caught Keisha’s shins. The black girl fell hard on her face in the dust.

Bobbie Jo was almost helpless, but she had the instinct to roll in the dirt away from her downed enemy. Keisha pushed up slowly. Her black skin was now brown from the stuck on dust. She’d been on her front and back. Only her sides were uncovered. She coughed and blinked wobbling on her hands and knees. She might have gotten a submission from Bobbie Jo but she was too tired to pursue and time ran out.

I poured cold water over Bobbie Jo’s head. She greedily drank and then puked and drank some more. Her nipples were raw weeping points of pain now. Face swollen and dark from the slapping and the illegal fist, tits bloating and covered in nasty bruises, belly dark and hot and now her pussy had taken a couple of nasty shots. Still now that she had her legs back I thought she was still ahead in terms of physical damage inflicted. Her bank account was definitely more, but I worried the black girl had showed some real fighting spirit in coming back from the three punch penalty. Bobbie Jo was not going to cruise home.

The third round of mauling started with both women now fully aware that just mauling tits wasn’t going to cut it from now on. Both were clean and cool from water baths. They grasped each other’s damaged tits and waited for the signal to start. Neither wasted any energy on insults. They stared deep into one another’s eyes. You could feel the utter determination, hatred and resolve.

From the start both threw knees. The pair of women danced in a circle jerking and mauling on each others’ tits while throwing knee after knee. One in five knees got through, but almost all of them were partially blocked. A furious two minutes ensued with no one going down.

Then they hooked legs while trying to cunt one another and went down in a tangled heap. Bobbie Jo almost climbed on top twisting Keisha’s tits up into the black girl’s face, but Keisha drove a knee into the white girl’s ribs and put her back on her side. Now the black girl threw a leg over and started to crawl on top. Bobbie Jo snaked her right hand down. Her fingers slide under the hot pink bikini and Keisha howled. When she jerked away Bobbie Jo had another handful of tangled pubic hair!

Keisha rolled away and scrambled to her feet. Bobbie Jo was faster and delivered a perfect field goal kick up between Keisha’s spread thighs. Smack. Keisha howled and doubled over grabbing her abused crotch. Bobbie Jo grabbed her tits from behind and hopped on her back. Keisha fell backwards between Bobbie Jo’s thighs getting the double handed tit treatment again.

Keisha cursed and screamed until Bobbie clamped her legs around the black girl’s waist from behind. Now Keisha moaned and pushed at Bobbie’s legs letting her tits be pulled, crushed and twisted. I suspected a submission at any minute, but Keisha endured the tit twisting. Her tiny pointed nipples began to weep and despite their protective shape were now crisscrossed with nail gashes and almost as raw as Bobbie Jo’s big nipples.

The maul came to an end and I thought Bobbie Jo was well ahead in terms of damage as well as money earned. Still her stomach problem worried me. The next phase of the fight, the last one as far as the girls knew now, was a ten round taped fist beat down.

The girls got a long rest as we taped their hands into striking surfaces. First we gave them a roll of dimes to grip. Then we taped their fists into small hammers. They wouldn’t be able to use their fingers this time. The rules of the taped fist beat down were basically anything goes for three minutes at a time: kicking, punching, kneeing, head butts, elbows, forearms, and whatever.

The rounds were three minutes long. Each time you put your opponent on her ass or on her tits in the dirt you got one hundred dollars bonus. The most knockdowns got a thousand dollar winner’s bonus. Once down your opponent would be revived and propped up against a car if necessary to finish the round. The fight would go ten rounds end of story, even if we had to prop a dead body up.

I figured Bobbie Jo’s longer arms, better endurance, and quickness would be too much for the tough black girl. At first it looked like a mismatch. Bobbie Jo actually had a good jab! She flicked it into Keisha’s face and dodged the black girl’s bull rushes over and over again. Now with the girl’s faces already badly swollen and roughly treated by the slapping contest it was only a matter of time before blood was spilled. Keisha’s lower lip was split after sixty seconds. Keisha’s upper lip was ripped open at the ninety second mark. Bobbie Jo was really enjoying taking apart her hated opponent.

Then Keisha managed to step exactly right as Bobbie Jo moved to the left. Keisha dug a blow into Bobbie Jo’s belly just on the bikini line. Bobbie Jo groaned and staggered forward with her fists up, but Keisha drove an uppercut straight through the guard and hit Bobbie Jo on the chin. The bleached blonde’s head snapped up. Her stagger became a stiff legged stumbled. A savage overhand right to the back of the head put the white girl face down in the dirt.

First bonus to Keisha!

I got Bobbie Jo up. We had no count really. I slashed her face with water. She blinked and shook her head. She was still woozy. She had a minute to survive. I decided she was standing on her own, stepped back and Keisha rushed forward. Bobbie Jo covered up taking a pounding on the arms and shoulders. Then Keisha stopped ahead hunting.

Bobbie Jo groaned as both her tits were crushed, then she doubled over when two blows dug into her gut. A follow on shot to the temple put her down again.

A second bonus to Keisha!

I got Bobbie Jo up again. She blinked and actually looked better this time than the last.

The fight restarted with Keisha swinging wildly. Bobbie Jo covered up and struck back with a sudden sharp right to Keisha’s broad nose. The blow hit like a stone. Keisha’s swinging fists flew off course and the black girl staggered backwards, blood pouring out of both nostrils. She choked and coughed, tears pouring over her swollen cheeks. Bobbie Jo surprised me by moving forward and throwing what I call a digging stomp. Her long leg came up with the knee bent. Then she kicked straight out and down, toe pointed upward. Her right heel sank into Keisha’s belly just above the bikini line. Her heel dug in and then she proceeded to drag it downward, ripping away the pink bottom and grinding across Keisha’s mound before returning to the ground.

The black girl groaned and doubled over. Bobbie Jo grabbed the side of Keisha’s head and drove a knee up into the black girl’s face. Keisha’s head snapped free of Bobbie Jo’s fistic grip and flew backwards splashing an arc of blood on the dirt and Bobbie Jo. Keisha fell down hard, first on her ass then her head bounced off the dirt. Her face looked like a mask of blood.

The score was now two to one for Keisha.

Chester hurried over and rolled her onto her belly. She spewed blood out of her mouth and coughed it up. She had been choking on the blood from her nose! He dragged her to her feet. She raised her fists and retreated. Before Bobbie Jo could even it up the round came to an end.

Bobbie Jo tried to open the second round with another long kick, but Keisha took it on her side and almost captured the leg with an arm sweep. Bobbie Jo recovered her balance in time to eat a hard fist to the mouth. The blow opened up both her already swollen lips and snapped her head backwards. Keisha’s round house left luckily missed and only the inside forearm hit Bobbie Jo’s bleached blonde hair. Bobbie Jo retaliated with three hard punches to Keisha’s soft belly and backed the black girl up.

Keisha grunted and snapped out a kick which thudded into Bobbie Jo’s leg, not hurting her but stopping her pursuit. Keisha circled away. Bobbie Jo followed her. They exchanged long range punches, both missed three out five. Bobbie Jo seemed to connect better. Keisha lowered her head and charged using a windmill style, probably out of frustration with Bobbie Jo’s reach. Bobbie Jo snapped Keisha’s head with three punches, two to the right eye sending the swelling to a new level. Keisha’s windmill cost a lot, but her wild fists did split Bobbie Jo’s right eyebrow sending a cascade of blood into Bobbie Jo’s right eye.

The white girl dug three or four body shots low into Keisha’s ribs. The black girl backed into Chester’s van. Trapped she endured a double fisted attack to her soft belly and then a head butt to her right cheek. She should have gone down, but instead she came of the van with a straight right that speared Bobbie Jo’s navel. Groaning Bobbie Jo retreated and gave Keisha a needed chance to recover. The round came to an end.

Two rounds were gone and the damage was horrific. Keisha had the advantage of two knockdowns to one. I had no idea who was going to win.

The third round started with the bleached blonde’s wicked jabs reopening the cuts on Keisha’s bloated face. Keisha hammered back with roundhouses that had Bobbie Jo staggering from repeated shots to the temple. They stood flat footed in the dust pounding away. One would have to fall. Bobbie Jo staggered again; both her ears were red and looked like they were puffing up. The constant hammering to her ears and temple was going to give her a cauliflower ear if she didn’t watch it.

On the other hand, Bobbie Jo’s straighter punches were carving up the black girl’s swollen face. Cuts were opening up on both cheeks, over both eyes and of course the nose poured as it spread slowly across Keisha’s face. It was another nose shot that finally stopped the intense hammering.

Keisha’s nose took another hard straight right. If it wasn’t broken it was now! Keisha fell backwards sitting down on her ass with her hands still swinging. Blood cascaded out of her nose. Bobbie Jo started to kick, but I grabbed her just in time and pulled her back. Keisha slumped forward and remained sitting with her bloody face slumped onto her chest and her arms hanging.

Chester got her up. She slumped and he dragged her to my sedan and propped her against the car right above the front tire well. She shook her head and raised her fists. Bobbie Jo lunged forward and drove her long right leg straight out. Her dirty foot sank into Keisha’s lower belly, spearing her. Keisha grunted and spewed blood and bile out of her mouth while falling on her face.

The round ended and now Bobbie Jo had pulled ahead three to two and was definitely on top of the fight by the end of the third round.

Keisha seemed to recover for the fourth. She avoided Bobbie Jo’s fists for thirty seconds and then lunged forward driving a straight right low into the white girl’s belly. Bobbie Jo’s right fist hit Keisha between the eyes on what had been her nose. Keisha’s head snapped back and she fell like a rock. Keisha’s fist had already sunk into Bobbie Jo’s belly and the white girl folded over and fell to her knees vomiting.

Bobbie Jo led by four to three and neither girl was in a hurry to continue. We stood them up. Bobbie Jo staggered forward and threw weak rights and lefts. Keisha stood there and took fist after fist to the face until she managed to stagger around and bend over. Bobbie Jo stumbled right into the black girl’s bare ass. She raised her fists and brought them down on Keisha’s kidneys, a double handed ax blow. Keisha arched her back and fell forward to her hands and knees scoring another knockdown for Bobbie Jo.

The fourth round ended and Bobbie Jo, hurt as she was, was ascendant with a five to three knockdown lead.

Bobbie Jo stalked Keisha from the beginning of the fifth round. Keisha’s face was a gory mask now. Even after being washed off by Chester it was blood covered already from the open cuts and gashes. The sweat seamed to make the blood flow even easier. It might have been better to leave the caked blood and dust on them during the break. Her eyes were slits with huge puffy eyelids and swollen cheeks. The splits in her skin were growing and red meat was exposed to the air. Keisha backed away and Bobbie Jo missed with about ten reaching swings. Frustrated she mouthed some racial slurs and stepped in swinging to the ribs.

Keisha took the punch and returned a straight right to the blonde’s nose. This time Bobbie Jo’s head snapped back and blood flew from her long nose. She had foolishly left herself open and paid the price. The bleached blonde staggered backwards while bringing her hands up defensively.

Keisha stepped forward and rather than strike with her fists duplicated one of Bobbie Jo’s brutal kicks. Her foot snapped out, up, and then down. Her dirty heel dug into the white girl’s belly just above the confederate flag string bikini. When the penetrating foot finished falling back to the ground, Billie Jo had joined Keisha in the bottomless battle dress. Both sets of tits were exposed from time to time, but they hadn’t completely lost their tops in this part of the fight yet. Bobbie Jo didn’t have time to worry about her shaved cunt being exposed for the first time because her ass was on the ground and she was curling up like a baby.

Pulling my fighter to her feet wasn’t easy. She moaned and had to be forced straight. She gasped about something inside her being busted. It wouldn’t be the first time some hard body bitch hadn’t been able to take repeated blows to her muscular belly. Sometimes a pad of fat helps. Anyway, she had a minute to go and no fucking choice.

Keisha was tired, but relentless. The look of agony and the fresh flow of blood from the hated white girl’s nose seemed to reinvigorate her. She moved forward trying to put Bobbie Jo on her ass again. Bobbie Jo bent forward under the swinging windmill of fists and stunned Keisha by driving forward on her long legs.

The bloody blonde bitch rammed full force into Keisha’s belly like a linebacker. Spearing the black girl and lifting her off her feet, Bobbie Jo continued the move and planted Keisha on her ass in the dirt. The white girl got in one cheap shot to Keisha’s mouth while she was on her back. Then I pulled my girl off.

We ruled it a double knockdown since both girls had been in the dirt. Bobbie Jo was up first and ready to go. Keisha shook her head from side to side and started forward fists low almost daring Bobbie Jo to go high. The bleached blonde obliged her. Two left jabs to the right eye and a hammering right to the left cheek rocked Keisha, but she kept coming and drove her right fist straight into the point of Bobbie Jo’s mound. The resulting gasp and curse from Bobbie Jo told me it was effective.

The blonde stood stiff legged and seemed to just stop. Keisha staggered into her, hurt by the face shots. The two blood drenched bitch fighters gasped for air and grunted against each other. Sweat and blood mixed and ran down making rivulets in the dirt caked on their lower bodies. Was this the end? For a moment nothing happened, and then Keisha jammed the top of her head into Bobbie Jo’s chin. The blonde toppled like she had been chopped down. The round came to an end as I dragged Bobbie Jo to her feet.

The fifth round was over. Bobbie Jo’s lead had disappeared. They were both at six knockdowns. I began to think that no matter how ruined Keisha’s face was the black girl would just keep gutting Bobbie Jo until she could no longer stand. As it was the white girl was barely able to straighten up for the sixth round. Add to that that the head butt had caused her to bite through a torn lip and even the facial damage was beginning to go against her.

The sixth round was very slow to start. Both girls were beyond exhaustion. Now it was just their determination not to lose that kept them going. A minute passed with them missing half-hearted swings and kicks. The closest score was a forearm across Keisha’s exposed tits. Her bloodstained pink bra was effectively rolled up under her tits now, lifting them from below. Both of Bobbie Jo’s raw nipples were exposed as well, but her bra was still pushing her two swollen half globes together.

Keisha missed with a left roundhouse and paid when Bobbie Jo stepped inside and drove a sharp, short, yet powerful uppercut into the black girl’s chin. Keisha staggered backwards. Bobbie Jo missed with a kick. Keisha steadied and lurched forward almost tripping over Bobbie Jo’s out stretched right leg. Bobbie Jo got her right leg under her and twisted away from Keisha’s stumbling charge. She hit the black girl on the back of the neck as Keisha passed.

Keisha almost fell forward, but stopped her stumble and stood flat footed with her back to her enemy. I think the neck shot had stunned her or perhaps she was blind from the blood filling her eye slits. Anyway, Keisha stood there with her fists up facing nothing. Bobbie Jo drove a sidekick into the small of the black girl’s back. The blow bent Keisha backwards and then sent her flying face first in the dirt. I grabbed Bobbie Jo before she could drop on the downed girl and beat her to death.

Chester pulled Keisha up. She was stiff legged and obviously hurt. I had told Bobbie Jo that she should have kicked to the back of the knee, but maybe I was wrong. Keisha’s back was hurt and the back is everything in a fight. You can’t punch, kick, wrestle or even hold if your back is hurting you.

Keisha was unable to twist around fast enough as Bobbie Jo moved in a circle around the flat footed black girl. Bobbie Jo’s bloody left fist hit Keisha from every angle sending sweat and blood flying, piling on the facial damage and keeping Keisha off balance and stunned. Bobbie Jo was working her like a professional fighter. Jab after jab hit home as she circled and hit away. Keisha screamed and lunged backwards rather than turn. The move hurt her and put her off balance, but her right elbow crashed into Bobbie Jo’s jaw and put the white girl on her ass tying the knockdown record again at seven a piece.

Bobbie Jo got to her feet and actually spit out a chipped tooth into the dirt. She cursed and charged. Keisha cursed and stood her ground. They fell hard with Bobbie Jo on top. It took both of us to pull them apart. The round came to an end and we gave them both eight knockdowns a piece.

The seventh round started with Bobbie Jo on the attack again. Her taped fists were blood soaked now, but that didn’t stop the tape from dragging across Keisha’s hamburger-like face. Keisha’s face was ripped apart from right and left. God knows how bad the damage was because the dark blood, red meat and black skin all begin to run together. The dark blue and red marks on Bobbie Jo’s face made her look like the living dead and her face was in so much better shape than Keisha’s.

Keisha finally had enough and charged forward grabbing out with her club fists to catch the faster blonde. Bobbie Jo would have escaped again, but she had gotten to close to the van. Her ass bumped into the van and you could tell from the look on her ruined mouth she knew she was in trouble. Keisha rammed into her and tried to bear hug the white girl. This time Keisha’s head butt missed because Bobbie Jo was twisting her head away. Bobbie Jo wrapped her left arm around Keisha’s head and twisted around until she was side by side.

Keisha did her best to use her body hold to ram the blonde face first into the van. She succeeded in smashing Bobbie Jo’s tits into the side, but the white girl had her in a head lock and the top of her head dinted the van’s side. The metal collision rocked both girls but it clearly stunned Keisha. Bobbie Jo pushed away, drove a nasty uppercut into Keisha’s down turned face. Keisha’s head snapped up and she looked to be falling again. Bobbie Jo drove her shoulder into the middle of the black girl’s back and rammed her tits first into the van.

Keisha put her fists on the van and tried to push backwards, but Bobbie Jo leaned into her. Using her free right hand, the white girl pounded away at Keisha’s lower back. Punch after punch went into Keisha’s meat. The wet thuds followed by Keisha’s agonized grunts was the only sound now other than their heavy breathing. Bobbie Jo kept the black girl pressed against the van and pounded away until the round was over.

It was the most brutal body beating I had ever watched. Keisha collapsed in a heap. Bobbie Jo laughed as the black girl had obviously pissed herself. Chester did his best to get Keisha up. She was practically helpless now. Just standing seemed to be agony.

The score stood tied at eight, but now the white girl was definitely dominant again. I warned my charge to be careful and finish Keisha off. She nodded and vomited. There was blood in the vomit now. Maybe she was ruptured or maybe it was from what she had swallowed.

Six weeks earlier we had staged a fight where the winner had croaked in the car on the way back home. Of course that fight had gone on to the winner takes all finish. Normally if two girls make it all the way through the taped fist fight we offer them a no rules to the finish fight, winner takes all the money plus five thousand dollar bonuses for trophies taken while the opponent is still alive. Those fights usually end with a freshly turned dirt mound behind the farmhouse, but that day ended with two mounds of dirt.

Bobbie Jo started the eighth round cautiously. She was ready for a sudden charge, but Keisha looked beyond that. She lumbered after Bobbie Jo, groaning with each step, knees threatening to buckle. Finally Bobbie Jo stepped in and cracked Keisha between the eyes with a round house right. Keisha fell hard with her legs doubled underneath.

Chester stood her up. She fell. Chester dragged her to the sedan and parked her against the front of the car. Bobbie Jo stepped forward and sank her right foot deep into Keisha’s heaving lower belly. The black girl spewed the contents of her stomach straight out covering Bobbie Jo’s leg and then fell forward in a heap.

Chester stood her up. Bobbie Jo changed tactics, planted her left leg and drove a high straight kick up into Keisha’s right tit. The black swollen bag bounced like a water balloon up to Keisha’s shoulder. Keisha moaned and bent backwards over the hood. Bobbie Jo leaned over her using her left arm under the black girl’s tits to press Keisha flat. Then the bleached blonde started working Keisha’s belly with her right fist. Bobbie Jo wanted to extract some revenge and the place where Keisha had hurt her most was her belly.

Bobbie Jo kept the black girl pinned helplessly like that and tenderized her lower belly. I don’t know how many times the wet thud of Bobbie Jo’s taped knuckles sounded or how deep her knuckles actually went. But, at times it looked like her fist had completely disappeared inside Keisha’s belly. I’d have to wash off my car in a stream. Keisha’s blood, sweat, piss and shit were on my bumper.

Bobbie Jo actually joked in her now slurred voice distorted by swollen and torn lips, “I fucking beat the shit out of that nigger whore.”

The ninth and tenth rounds were simple brutality. Bobbie Jo hit Keisha again and again. Somehow, the tough black girl survived. Unfortunately the beating was so severe that not even as stubborn as Keisha was she knew she could beat the white girl in a final no rules fight. Bobbie Jo taunted her and swore she’d kill her if she ever saw her again.

Chester and I agreed we would do our damned best to make sure they both met again. They did and there is another mound of dirt on rural route nine and one more missing throwaway girl on the police blotter. But that is another story.