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.

by Mr. Cage (comments at mrcagefight@yahoo.com )

Sondra wore a blue silk strapless dress fitted so tight that it showed every feature of her carefully sculpted body. It terminated an inch below her blonde bush and without hose or thong was just perfect for the exhibitionist streak in her. Sitting down or bending over would give any admirer a full shot of her blonde covered cunt or rock hard ass cheeks. Her massive 46DD breasts swelled forth from the tight fabric holding it up, but to all appearances fighting to float free like a matched pair of zeppelins. Most of the men and women who watched the hormonally honed and physically trained combination of powerful muscles and enhanced feminine secondary and primary sexual attributes were struck dumb by the blonde Swede. At 6'2'' 213 pounds, dressed like that and striding through the casino hotel lobby toward her waiting car most thought she must be a body builder call girl, just one more freakish Vegas delight. But, some knew exactly who she was and where she was headed and they rushed to follow her.

Sondra felt their eyes on her and enjoyed the feel of her thick nipples trying to rip through the silk. Her newly grown right nipple was particularly sensitive to the raspy touch of the cold silk. The sensitivity of the new flesh felt good, especially since she wasn't fighting tonight! Tonight she intended for the first time in months to enjoy herself. She deserved it because in three days she would be fighting and the sensitivity would be just one more source of agony rather than the pleasure nature intended. Such were the joys and curses of being a professional fighter in the Blood Rules Rings.

After her last minute stunning defeat at the hands of the Aussie Dagger and her time in the reconstruction tanks wondering how it had happened, Sondra deserved some fun. Sondra had literally beaten the Dagger to death, yet the big bitch had taken her nipple and been intent on ripping off both her 46DD tits when the referee declared Sondra had been knocked out. It had been more than knocked out, her spine had been fractured and in another era she would have either died or been paralyzed.

It had been a bloodbath, now infamous on the underground Blood Rules Rings. Being infamous in that notorious company was quite an achievement for a professional fighter. If Sondra managed to win the Unlimited Championship she could sell her services to any number of rich men, women, couples or groups. Most of them just wanted to be rough fucked by a famous killer. Some wanted to be brutally beaten and raped or watch someone else take it. Sondra was more than willing to provide those services. Her booker claimed she could take in a million a night, more if she was willing to let a customer slave her. More to her liking was the private mixed fights where men paid fortunes to fight a woman who could give them a realistic challenge. Even better would be a challenge by a non-professional female club member to a brutal fight. Those didn't pay as well and weren't exactly common for there were few such women Sondra's size, but there were the other forms of payment. Enslaving some rich bitch, making her bleed and crawl through her own shit to eat cunt was worth the price differential.

Having lost only to the American champion Amanda by a knockout long ago, everyone wondered if Sondra's recent loss by recorded knockout to the Aussie would affect her performance in the coming series of fights in the sixth round of the Unlimited Weight World Champion Eliminator. It was a double elimination tourney and she had taken her one loss now. Sondra was bothered simply because she had the fight won, just as she had Amanda whipped years ago. Both women had stolen a victory by a sudden move: a head kick by Amanda and the spine breaking breast mare by the Dagger. At least the Dagger had paid the price for theft. The big fucking mule had died in the ring as a direct result of the terrible beating Sondra had given out. Still, Sondra was no longer undefeated and she could make no mistakes if she wanted that belt. For seven of the eight surviving fighters it was a single elimination tourney now. Only Simba from Kenya remained undefeated.

Betting was naturally heavy for Simba and Amanda. Yumiko and Melina were distant dark horses. Carol, the other American still in the fight, was ranked sixth by the bettors. And, Sondra was ranked fifth behind Simba, Amanda, Olga and Ivana. The fight world and the hangers on were gathering in Las Vegas, the center of gravity of depravity, the home of the Dark Coliseum. Tonight was the first night of four where women would fight in the most brutal fashion in front of the largest crowds ever gathered for such entertainment in the world. Unlike other club locations, wealthy males would be in attendance in their own section with any women who they brought or who wanted to sit with them. Sondra intended to sit with in the larger women's only section.

The Dark Coliseum was located six blocks off the strip, built under a shopping mall by a wealthy group of fetish enthusiasts. Fighting was not its only purpose. It catered to every perversion the inventive minds of men and women could imagine. But the next four days were headlined by the Blood Rules Ring matches including the sixth round of Sondra's contest and as one of the stars until she was beaten or killed she intended to milk it.

The entrance was through a bank of elevators at the back of a three-tier parking lot. Despite its literal and figurative underground nature, the supposedly secret entrance was well lit and attended by attractive, attentive staff members. It was another of Las Vegas' well known secrets! The attendants recognized Sondra immediately. Three young girls practically fought over the right to escort Sondra to the elevators. Sondra enjoyed the pampering. She had fought in warehouses and abandoned factories. In her youth she had fought in back alleys or construction dumpsters. This was the big game! As she exited her limo she saw more than one familiar face, luckily there were no confrontations with women in her weight class. Sondra tried to keep these things professional, but with the passions aroused by drugs, supplements and the promise of desperate combat anything could happen.

Her first stop was the Dark Coliseum's Slave Exchange. She intended to sell her one day slave rights to the four women she had defeated previously. The practice had developed among the professionals over the last six months. Unlike the amateur fighters they seldom were in any shape to enjoy their rights after a fight. The enterprising managers of the Dark Coliseum had created the Slave Exchange where women and men could be bought and sold. It had grown overnight into a major profit center. Now when disputes were settled in the Blood Rules Rings even the richest member might found herself sold as a temporary slave to anyone with the coin. Many felt that selling a beaten woman was even more humiliating than taking her yourself and Sondra heartily agreed.

Sondra chuckled as she listed her one night's slave rights to Yumiko for a delay auction. Her other victims she sold out right to the Slave Exchange. They would market the powerful women to their customers. Sondra hoped the buyers would make the bitches suffer. The auction for Yumiko would be held right before tonight's fight insuring a good bid and the goods would be delivered after the tournament was over. That meant the buyer might be getting a champion for a slave at a speculative price. It added a bit of gamble and that certainly appealed to the denizens of the Dark Coliseum. And the best thing about it was that Yumiko would know she had been sold by Sondra like a piece of meat, which was more delicious to Sondra than taking the bitch herself. And if they faced each other again, Yumiko would hear all about it in the clinches.

She was reminded that the place wasn't just for fighters. It was the center of the most legal and illegal pleasures in the world with a specialty in S & M. If Sondra felt like whipping the hide of a man or woman all she had to do was ask. There was a massive complex of theme rooms gathered in what was called the Dungeon. If she wanted mixed group sex or a cunt party all she had to do was show up. The club would let a celebrity like her in for free! Any drug, any stimulation, any fetish, and any nasty evil forbidden or frowned on by the proper society that looked the other way for a piece of the action was here for the asking. But tonight and the next four nights were Fight Nights and that was what she was here to see and experience, this time from the other side of the fence.

She moved through first level underground mall noting the various elegant bars and restaurants nicely interspaced with tasteful entrances to such establishments as “The Whip,” “The Bloody Dungeon,” “Scream and Scream Again,” “Ball and Cunt Busters Palace, among less descriptive torture, sex and even some dance clubs. Sondra's head swiveled around taking in the sights and sounds. This was certainly a step up from a gravel road outside the city limits.

Suddenly a young very decadent high society girl's voice said, “Oh, my goodness, you're the blonde that killed that monster Dagger! I get off every time I watch that match! You are so HOT! You've simply got to sit in my private lounge tonight.”

Sondra turned to the voice and was shocked. She knew this young piece of girl meat. The model skinny, elegantly dressed, perfectly made-up young heiress was famous for being famous. Young, blonde, twenty-one and infamous for her partying, boyfriends, girlfriends, drinking, and spending, Paris Chilton had become an industry totally independent of her inherited wealth. Endorsements, music contracts even though she could barely sing, movie roles even though she could barely act and free tickets to everything made her the current it girl. Sondra was used to attracting these waif girls, but she had not had one who was on the cover of every major monthly fashion magazine and all the nightly scandal tabloid broadcasts.

The young heiress held at her hand and said, “I'm Paris and I simply must eat you out from asshole to belly button before I have to fight tonight! Oh, this is the best.”

Sondra smiled, taken aback by the youngster's forwardness. Oh well, she was here to party and had expected to fuck somebody, several bodies in fact. To tell the truth, Sondra was excited at the prospect of fucking her first “celebutant.” And she couldn't imagine this model thin girlie girl in a fight. Sondra had to hear more.

Paris' private lounge was actually part of the circular fighting arena wall. Eight plush lounges in a private room sat into the floor under the arena seating above. The front wall was a one way mirror now, but it would be raised for the fight so that the only thing separating the occupants from the fighters would be the steel cage forming the outer boundary of the fighting arena. Screens showing other viewpoints of the fighting arena covered the ceiling of the room as well as the two opposing walls. A private bar with a nude beauty ready to dispense booze and drugs was set against the back wall on one side of the hidden entrance. On the other side of the entrance was a bathroom complete with a group shower, sauna, and whirlpool. Now this was how one lived when money was nothing and pleasure was the only object!

Seven other giggling beauties, some who Sondra recognized as minor starlets and fashion models followed Paris into the salon. The girls were totally entranced by the big fighter in their midst. The pecking order became clear when the youngest most eager to please stood off to the side and Paris and Sondra took center lounges front row.

Paris laid down the law to them, “I get firsts, you nasty whores, besides it will be my last cunt party for a long time, win or lose.”

The girls laughed. Sondra understood. Paris would be fighting in the seventh match of the night. Fascinated, Sondra listened as she was included in “Team Paris.” Apparently Paris and one of her previous best friends had come to words about who had said what about whom some time some where to somebody else. It was all a bit complicated to Sondra, since she had never been big on girlish relationships. Her idea of a relationship was beating some woman to a pulp, using her and then forgetting her. She fought and she fucked and she didn't bother to remember faces she had ruined or cunts she had fisted.

Paris's enemy was another celebrity. This time she was a rising young actress who had latched onto Paris early in her career and then turned on her mentor when she had some actual fame of her own! Sondra listened avidly, amazed that the whole relationship, climb to fame, and descent into deadly enemies had taken less than two years. Anyway, both girls were very serious. And there was a “Team Lindsay” sitting somewhere else in the arena ready to cheer on their leader, Lindsay Rohan.

Sondra managed to keep a straight face as the girls pumped each other up and thought about “throwing down” with the other girls. Then Paris explained the rules and Sondra was impressed, but she still assumed it would last no more than a minute and then both girls would run crying to the regeneration tanks to take away a couple of scratches.

Paris had been a member of the Blood Rules Rings for three years and this would be her third membership fight. She had enough money to pay for an exemption or to pay for a professional to fight for her, but she had actually fought for herself! That much impressed Sondra. Her first fight had been a boxing to a knock out fight with a model. Paris had won. Her second fight had been a rougher riding crop fight with her discharged personal assistant. Paris had won that as well sending the other girl to the tanks to replace almost all the skin on her back and tits. But both of those fights had been cakewalks compared to what these two foolish vixens had talked their personal feud into.

To mimic the three round thirty minute fight of the professional rings the girls had agreed to fight three ten minute rounds. The winner wouldn't be determined by knockout or blood rules. This was a regenerator tank match! The one spending the longest time in the tanks would emerge as the loser and have to be the winner's personal toilet and giveaway fuck hole for as long as she had spent in the tank.

The object of the fight was to hurt the other woman so much that she would be in the tanks longer than you. Given that both were famous beauties it was an interesting twist. Sondra had minute scars all over her body because the quicker you regenerated the less perfect the regeneration. The scars on her face and body would be non-existent if she had spent months in the tank rather than twenty-six days this last time. These girls could not afford to appear in public with a hair out of place not to mention a scar on their faces or white seam marks where their clits or nipples had re-grown. They both would be undergoing slow healing and the loser might be looking at six months or more in the tanks and then another six months of slavery.

“Foolish young cunts,” was Sondra's first thought/

Then Paris explained the rules. They would start with a ten minute bite down match! Sondra grimaced. She hated bite down matches. She doubted though that either girl was expert enough to really inflict much damage. In a bite down match your arms were restrained completely and you're only weapons were your feet and teeth. Often as not inexperienced fighters ended up on the ground tangled together at the legs butting heads unable to get hold of anything with their teeth. However, fights between experts were blood baths with meat on the mat even before the second round began! If there was a second round one or both started it with missing body parts and trailing blood.

The second round was to be a sand paper glove fist fight. This was a fist fight with hard rubber gloves fitted up to the armpit. The surfaces of the gloves were coated with abrasive glue and then dipped into shattered glass. Even a grazing shot would rip away the skin and leave bits of glue and glass behind. It was as painful way of disfiguring a woman with your fists slowly as had been devised. It was an unusual savage choice for two rich young beauties whose claims to fame were their famous faces and flawless bodies. Of course nail glove fights were quicker and to the point, so quick though that the agony factor was reduced.

The third round was to be a cat fight with cat gloves. This was the way all professional fights ended and insured a mutual bloodbath. They had agreed not to wear eye guards! Now that would add another month to the tanks at least. Replacing an eye was no small thing. And since there was no knockout provision they might just die in the arena. There was a time limit on how long a brain could be without oxygen and be regenerated with its memories and personality still attached. That was what had happened to the Dagger. Her brain had swelled and essentially destroyed itself before they could get her to the tanks. Even if they had replaced her brain there would have been nothing there and even the underground did not reproduce mindless bodies. There was no profit in that!

As an afterthought Paris explained that they would be wearing expensive strap on high heels just to be fashionable and that she intended to stick her four inch spikes up that “fat red head's smelly cunt.” She giggled when Sondra mentioned the possibility of dying in the ring. Paris assured Sondra that she would stop just short of killing Lindsay because she wanted her to suffer for a very long time. Her girlfriends giggled vicariously. And people thought the professionals were savage!

The first match of the night was a membership battle between two sixty year old enemies and it ended badly for one of them. They had fought without eye guards, neck bands or any rules other than last woman standing. After twenty six fights over forty years their hatred finally ended when one rich grandmother had driven the heel of her boot into the other's eye socket and into the brain.

Sondra wasn't that fascinated by the fight, but that didn't matter. A minute into the affair and Paris had knelt down in front of her, pushed up her micro skirt and pushed her famous face into Sondra's hairy blonde cunt. The young girl was totally fascinated by Sondra's immense hormonally enhanced clit and clit meat. “Oh god, it's bigger than Bobbie's cock.” The other girls had giggled. They were fucking each other all around, not wanting to interfere with their matron's pleasure.

Sondra sought to touch Paris, but the celebutant explained she wanted to go into the ring sexually frustrated but promised that after she won and Sondra won the championship she would pay Sondra to give her the roughest butch fucking ever. For the moment all she wanted was to fill her belly with Sondra's cunt juice and build up her sexual frustration. Apparently it was the way she worked herself up to a fight.

The little minx was good with her perfect lips. She quickly learned that Sondra's clit was not some tender pink worm that couldn't be touched. Paris expertly slid back the heavy sheath and curled her heiress tongue around the meaty clit and rough sucked Sondra to an immediate climax. Paris gurgled as she sucked the juice out of Sondra's deep cunt. As skinny and delicate as she was, the heiress was a fuck machine with a taste for cunt juice. Everyone had shed their clothes and mouths found Sondra's thick nipples and she felt the touch of teeth and tongue. Paris had her fine pointed nose shoved into Sondra's cunt spreading the thick lips while the heiress used her tongue and two fingers on Sondra's asshole. The blonde fighter was in the cunt party of her life!

The second fight was a professional bout between two local 110 pound bitches. It went the distance and was decided on blood rules to the younger of the two girls. Sondra was forced to a shattering orgasm by Paris' slender fist up her cunt and the heiress's clever tongue up her asshole. Sondra had come here to fuck and be fucked, but for now she settled being for being righteously fucked by the heiress and her pussy posse.

The third fight was another professional bout between two 140-145 pound fighters. Sondra didn't see its end because Paris had instructed two of her girl friends to fill Sondra's face with their enhanced tits while Paris licked, bite, scratched, pinched, pulled, and sucked on Sondra's cunt meat until the fighter exploded in a writhing slow burn orgasm that delighted the girls even as it threw them off in different directions. After that Paris left the room to prepare for her fight thanking Sondra for filling her belly with cunt juice, the perfect pre-fight food in her opinion.

After that, Sondra was in a sea of hot, desperate cunt. The fourth and fifth fights were bloody membership fights that she just caught glances of as she roughly fisted two girls at a time while others fisted her and sucked her nipples. Tits, nipples, cunts, asses, legs, fingers, feet, lips, fists of hair all without names attached were everywhere. Sondra lost track of how many times she came or how many times she made another come. It was a fuck orgy and the screams and blood on the other side of the cage was there in the distance should anyone look away from the juice dripping slit pushing against their face. They finally were all sated by the sixth fight, an interesting five on five, families fight.

A grandmother, mother, sister and their two daughters versus a grandmother, mother and three daughters fight until only one side was standing. It reminded Sondra of a couple of gang fights she had been in during grade school against Turkish immigrants. She had killed a boy and a girl in those fights and lost her best friend to a razor across the throat. These women were neither professionals nor members. They had appeared in a family feud reality show and been kicked off for actually fighting rather than merely titillating the audience with verbal taunts and threats of a fight. The membership had sought them out and agreed to award a million to the survivors. The first team had won although they would be splitting it only three ways. Seven women were dead and there was no attempt at sending them to regeneration tanks! The audience loved the violence even more when they knew there was no quick fix waiting off stage.

As a profession fighter, Sondra worried that eventually all the paid fights would end in death. She hoped to have her fame and fortune locked up way before that. Unlike some she fought for the pleasure of hurting, not being hurt. And while she usually didn't mind a kill, she certainly didn't get off on the risk of being killed like so many of the amateur fighters did. As the world above ground became more and more non-violent and socially correct the real world, the underground world, became more and more savage. She wondered for a moment where it would all lead. Then it was time for what was clearly the highlight of the night among the glitterati and fame chasers gathered in the Dark Coliseum that night, Paris versus Lindsey.

The fighting area was a perfect circle about thirty feet in diameter, very large, but the floor was composed of concentric circles, each of which could rise up making the fighting arena smaller or larger. Appropriate sized cages seemed to descend from the roof and attach magnetically to something under floor. It was all very ultra modern and perfect for setting up fights, getting the fighters in to the arena, cleaning up after, and out to the regeneration tanks with minimal delay. This was the Big Leagues for sure!

The announcer didn't give weights or measures; a woman's voice merely said, “Our seventh fight of the night is a membership fight between a three year member, Paris, and a two year member, Lindsay.”

The audience roared. This was clearly the highlight of the night. Paris's girlfriends screamed wildly and pounded on the cage wall. Sondra noted that the fighting area would be the inner circle, about eight feet in diameter surrounded by a fine steel mesh fence that looked almost totally transparent. Sondra noted that the floor was polished white marble, no padding for this high heel fight. Before the appropriate sized cage dropped, the second ring of the floor rose up. Standing on opposing sides were the two celebrities. Attendants stood on either side of the girls. Two referees waited above on hanging platforms. As usual their job was to enforce the rules and in this case that would merely mean separated the fighters at the end of each round.

Without an official announcement, Sondra was left to estimate the physical attributes of the fighters. At the same time she decided to bet ten thousand on Paris to win even though the bet wouldn't be settled until the first one was out of the tanks. She really didn't have a reason to bet on the celebutant, but after the girl had been so kind to eat Sondra's cunt and ass like an army of professional dykes it only seemed sporting!

Paris stood about 5'9'' and weighed no more than 115 pounds with a slender 34A 22 33 body posed on long skinny, but strong legs. She was blonde and her hair was cut fashionably long in the back and layered up the sides just covering her ears. It was probably the first time in fifteen years without diamond ear rings or jewelry. She was barely tanned, the pale look having become popular among the ultra rich. Her crystal blue eyes and pouted lips were famous all on their own. She wore high heeled strap-on runway specials, gleaming white with golden colored metal four inch spikes.

The attendants equipped her with a startling white neck band. They fitted on the armpit high white rubber gloves without the abrasive glue or glass coverings. At the touch of an electric wand, the fists formed and the Paris would no longer be able to use her fingers. Then they strapped her arms to her sides tightly using four thin straps hooked to four bands: biceps, elbows, forearms and wrists. The cords were so tight that they rubbed her flawless flesh, back and front, one lifting up her breasts from below. No matter what her arms would not be used in this fight any more effectively than her shoulders!

The tight restraint of Paris' arms pushed her tiny firm tits upward exposing her pink, tiny almost boyish nipples to inspection. She was shaved down below and her mound was smooth and flat with only a cleft and a hint of her clit exposed. Her lips were tight and almost meatless with no dangerous excess dangle. She was so different from Sondra that the big Swede couldn't help but to look forward to rough fisting the tiny tight-lipped cunt. If the girl could take it as well as she could give it Sondra had a lot to look forward should they both survive to meet again outside the regeneration tanks.

Then Sondra considered the enemy. Lindsay stood about 5'5'' and weighed probably 125 pounds. The startling redhead looked stronger and was definitely thicker with a 36C 26 34 figure. In the harsh light her pale freckled skin looked as vulnerable as Paris' smooth, flawless flesh. Her red hair was thicker, longer and wavier than the blonde's wispy locks. For some reason it made her look more savage, more like a fighter. Sondra immediately began to regret her bet. The close-up camera showed Lindsay's face was grim and less perfect than her blonde rival's, but her clear green eyes were alive with determination.

She was equipped similarly to Paris in pale pink, almost white, colors. The restraint of her shorter, thicker arms also bunched up her tits. Her aureoles were thin, pale pink and widely spread over the nose of her firm young breasts more like a discoloration than the thick bumpy surfaces Sondra was used too ripping into. Her nipples were thick, engorged and actually red. She was shaved smooth, but her mound was large and prominent with thicker lips and a heavier clit than most young girls, no sign of hormonal influence, just a natural variation. Once again it made Sondra think that the red head was likely to be the tougher of the two if tough could be applied to either pampered princess.

At the sound of the bell the two bitches rushed at each other heels clicking on the marble. As Sondra would have warned, all they did was slam into each other. She expected them to go down, but both showed remarkable balance on their spike heels. She guessed that they spent most of their lives in heels and knew how to keep their feet. They rammed again, both grunting as their tits and bellies slammed into each other. Lindsay thrust her hips forward and drove Paris back a step.

Sondra heard a worried gasp from one of her new friends, but another purred low and slipped a hand down over Sondra's muscular haunches, worming a finger into Sondra's asshole and brushing Sondra's elbow with a young fat breast. Sondra rotated her hand and roughly grabbed the girl's cunt without turning away from the fight. The girl whimpered and melted against the big fighter. Sondra hurt her just enough and the girl frantically came just leaning against the big blonde.

Out in the ring, Paris was bumped back against the mesh cage, her pert tiny ass waffling through the tiny mesh. Lindsay drove forward again and used the top of her head to hit Paris in the chin, truly scoring the first blow of the fight. Paris moaned and might have fallen, but the redhead pressed her body into the taller blonde holder her up. Sondra grimaced because she knew what was coming.

The shorter Lindsay dropped her head and sank her teeth into the tiny swell of the top of Paris's right breast. Paris howled and responded with a sharp knee. Normally a professional would have been ready to block any such shot, but Lindsay had stood with her legs spread pushing up off her toes pinning the heiress to the fence. Paris's bony knee caught the redhead on her shaved cunt. It was a perfect cunt buster and Sondra admired the technique, intentional or not.

Lindsay staggered back shocked. Paris looked down at the deep bite marks on her tit and screamed. With her ass propped on the fence she kicked out and drove her spike into the front of Lindsay's left leg. Lindsay screamed and jerked backwards, but not before her pale skin was punctured! Paris's girls went wild screaming. Paris had no blood on her tits yet and there was blood dribbling out of Lindsay's punctured thigh wound.

Paris rushed forward and lowered her head driving hard into the middle of the red head's chest. This time Lindsay lost her footing and fell hard on the marble with the skinny blonde on top! Now unless you've fought with your arms bound to your sides you have no idea how difficult it is to move once you are off your feet. You are essentially reduced to worming around until you can get your knees under you.

Lindsay screamed and squirmed backwards as Paris pushed forward her eyes on Lindsay's big red nipple. The blonde heiress reached her target and sank her teeth into the big prize. Lindsay howled, arched her back and rolled. Paris rolled off to the side the nipple still in her mouth! Lindsay's tit stretched out and pulled her over on top of the blonde. The red head screamed in agony and fear. Paris's friends went wild.

The red head came to rest straddling the blonde her tit still in the perfect bite of the billion dollar heiress. Lindsay moved her knees under her and sat back, not easy to do without your hands on the floor. Paris bent upward using the meaty tit as a tooth hold. Lindsay cursed and screamed, now getting angry. She jerked backwards, howled and pitched her head back in agony, but her nipple slipped free. Paris fell back to the ground her pouted lips now covered in Lindsay's tit blood. She hadn't severed the nipple but blood was pouring out of deep teeth marks and a gash across the nipple. Second blood to the blonde!

Now they faced the standard stalemate of a bite down match. Lindsay was sitting on Paris' belly effectively pinning the armless blonde to the marble. However, Lindsay couldn't do much but sit there. So they exchanged curses and promises to bite off nipples and clits. Paris described using her heels to give Lindsay a high enema. Paris kicked her heels and writhed on her back trying to unseat the redhead. Lindsay rode the blonde and recovered her composure looking down at her bloody nipple. Sondra recognized the signs that the redhead was about to act again.

As Paris arched her back, Lindsay rose up on her knees. Paris mistook the movement for success and started to sit up. Lindsay drove her forehead down catching the heiress on her right cheek. Paris's head crashed back hard against the marble and she lay still for a moment. Her right cheek ballooned immediately, but that wasn't her worst problem.

The redhead had stunned herself a bit, but found she was flat out on top of her enemy, the woman who had tried to take her nipple. Lindsay stirred first and rather than back up and go for a better target she bit the first flesh she saw, Paris' right ear. Paris screamed and jerked, trapped under her enemy's weight. Now Sondra heard loud cries for Lindsay coming from somewhere to the right of them, obviously her girls were there.

Paris twisted back and forth, learning how to move snake-like. Lindsay tried to jerk off the heiress' ear at the same time as Paris moved to the side. The redhead came away with the lobe. Paris screamed as blood spurted onto her neck, but she was free and rolling in the opposite direction that Lindsay had fallen with her prize between her teeth.

The blonde rolled over onto her face and surprisingly quickly inched up onto her knees. Lindsay was having more trouble. Paris rose up on her knees, leaned to the side and got a foot down onto the marble. The lanky girl was actually quite athletic. Lindsay rolled to the side of the cage and used it to balance against as she moved to her knees. Paris stood up in a fluid motion and turned to face Lindsay as the girl pressed up along the cage wall.

Paris charged forward. Sondra worried Lindsay would either kick or dodge. Charging around on heels made you particularly vulnerable to a counter. Sondra had been wrong to worry. Lindsay did kick defensively, but Paris stopped short. Lindsay's heel scratched Paris' belly, but the blonde rotated and drove her right foot straight out. The golden spike scored a direct hit on the redhead's lower belly, digging in, leaving a red trail as the blonde's foot moved downward. Lindsay howled in agony as the golden spike pulled across her clit and slipped between the lips of her cunt. Luckily for the red head she was standing and the heel did not penetrate her. It cut along the inside of her major lips and then went back to the floor.

Lindsay screamed and started to bend over. Another problem with having your arms pinned is you can't grab yourself or fend off your attacker. Paris stood back and let the red head drop forward. Sondra yelled for her to use her knee, but the blonde had thoughts of her own. She stepped backwards and launched a football kick upward. The top of her foot, straps and flesh, hit Lindsay under the chin.

Lindsay's red hair flew and her head snapped back. The short little starlet fell to her knees and her head bobbed backwards stunned by the foot. Paris rotated on her left foot, raised her right and stomped down spearing Lindsay's left 36C breast. The red head was awakened immediately from her shock. The wicked spike was in the meat of her breast and Paris actually dug it in deep and tried to walk up Lindsay.

The wicked heel dug into the tit and pushed it downward stretching it out inches longer than it had ever been before the flesh snapped back and rolled off the spike. Paris's foot hit the floor hard and she fell over the top of the screaming red head. They settled into a heap against the cage wall, the blonde draped over the wailing redhead.

Paris tried to rotate on top the squirming bitch, but all she could do is maintain her weight on the bitch's upper back and shoulder. She couldn't get her teeth to anything. Lindsay seemed content to bend over on her knees and cry. Sondra spied a slow motion replay on one of the wall screens. The heel had punctured the breast and had torn the tissues on its way out! Paris had scored major damage! Depending on how deep the wound and how well it clotted this could be a crucial factor in Lindsay failing later in the fight!

Minutes passed as Paris tried to squirm her way to Lindsay's body while keeping it pinned. In one of the many attempts, Paris' left leg bumped into the side of Lindsay's head. The red head suddenly turned her face to the side and sank her teeth into Paris' fine ankle, going for the hamstring! Paris yelped and jerked her foot away sliding off Lindsay and landing on the marble face down in front of the kneeling red head.

Lindsay rose up slightly and lunged forward on her knees to fall across Paris' lower back. Now the heiress was trapped under the starlet. They squirmed and after another fruitless sweaty minute of frustration, Lindsay sank her teeth into the pert curve of Paris' fine young ass. Paris howled and Lindsay chewed away. It wasn't a dangerous bite, but it hurt and it was surely humiliating and painful. Blood smeared over the blonde's ass and the red head's face.

Paris rolled and squirmed finally twisting under the red head and getting on her back, not the place to be. Lindsay pressed her face against the blonde's tight belly and bit. Paris yelled. Now she was in danger. If the redhead was a professional she would immediately jerk backwards and go for the mound.

Paris actually seemed to be helping Lindsay get into position. The blonde rotated on her now bloody ass and gave Lindsay an opening to go for her tiny clit. The red head released the twisted belly flesh and went for the clit! Sondra started to grimace, knowing from personal experience how it was going to feel. Then suddenly it was Lindsay screaming and twisting backwards.

The blonde had risked her cunt just to get her heels into the redhead's hips. Paris kicked and then pushed. Lindsay slid backwards on her knees and shins. The blonde's feet were turned outward, but her spike heels were hooked into the front of the redhead's wide hips, gouging into the meat and driving the redhead backwards.

As Paris' legs straightened the redhead crawled backwards on her knees removing the bloody spikes from her hips. Sondra had to give it to the heiress; she knew how to use her long legs and spike heels. What next? Time was almost up.

Lindsay had just straightened. Paris arched off her shoulders, slid forward on her bloody ass and kicked out both feet again. This time her aim was higher. She speared both breasts with one kick and sent Lindsay over backwards screaming as she was punctured again. The redhead rolled across the ground screaming, not to get out of danger but just instinctively rolling because of the agony. It was the smartest thing she could do.

Paris struggled to get up and take advantage. Now the marble was slippery and so was she. Getting off her ass, onto her knees and then rising was almost impossible. She slipped and fell twice before performing the balancing act. Lindsay was against the fence wailing about her tits. Unfortunately for the heiress, time came to an end.

Paris was hurt, but clearly ahead on damage. There was a break for equipment change, but no water and no treatment. Lindsay sobbed as blood covered both her tits and dribbled onto her sweaty belly. The heiress had really put the spikes to her. But there was a look of grim determination in those wild green eyes. Sondra doubted either woman was much use with her fists, but with these wicked gloves a grazing shot would rip skin and deposit glass slivers in the flesh. Also, looking at Paris' skinny long waist, Sondra decided that if Lindsay got in close and used her fists low that the heiress might just fold up and go down. After that the redhead would have no problem beating Paris' face raw and bloody.

The attendants released the restraints. Both girls quickly moved their arms around working the kinks out of them. Then the attendants carefully painted the rubber surfaces with abrasive glue. This wicked stuff stuck to the rubber and provided a rough contact surface all of its own. Then they dipped their arms into buckets of crushed glass. When they brought their arms out the white and pink gloves sparkled from thousands of tiny glass slivers. The attendants checked the throat protection and added minute eye guards. The thin straps holding the guards in place provided no protection, and the tiny eye guards covered only the inner eye socket leaving the cheek and eyebrow exposed. While the eye guards were flexible, a good solid glove punch to the guard would be just as effective to hurting your eye and blurring your vision as a bare knuckle to the closed lid would be. The primary difference being the glue and glass would not pass the barrier although the impact would.

Both girls were still slick with sweat and stained by each others' blood. The bite down had been probably pretty bad for them, but nothing like a professional bite down match. Paris' girlfriends came back from their bar loaded up on some wild drugs and even before the first punch flew one of them was on her knees chewing on Sondra's clit meat. The others stood anxiously by the chain link restraints and fingered each other waiting for the fight to resume.

The attendants disappeared above with their equipment and the fight was on again. The heiress looked pretty skilled as she circled on her high heels. Paris asked Lindsay about how it felt to have her tits punctured and then promised to do far worse to the starlet's cunt and ass. Lindsay replied with a few four letter words and waded forward.

Paris stunned Sondra and Lindsay with a well executed left jab to the right cheek. Lindsay's head snapped back and her advance stopped. Almost immediately her pale freckled flesh reddened and you could see the glue and glass sticking to her flesh. Paris swung a right hook to Lindsay's ear and then fired a left uppercut into the bottom of the starlet's right breast. Sondra was truly impressed. The bitchy heiress knew how to use her fists. Who would have thought? Sure the punches weren't crisp and they lacked power, but they looked like real punches not some wind milling school girl shit.

Lindsay rocked with the blonde's attack. Then the redhead lowered her head and charged forward. Paris' defensive jab bounced off the redhead's lowered forehead, skinny it but not stopping the bull rush. The shorter heavier redhead rammed the blonde hard and sent Paris stumbling backwards. Paris regained her balance and tasted the redhead's first fist, a straight right to the heiress' pouted lips. Smash!

Paris staggered and her head snapped back. One punch had ripped open both her lips and started them swelling. She partially blocked a wide left with her right glove taking the punch on her temple. Lindsay pressed forward and crowded the taller, skinnier girl back into the fence. Paris hammered the back of the redhead's neck and shoulders, grazing the pale flesh on the bitch's upper back again and again. Lindsay leaned into the heiress and finally delivered what Sondra thought was her best attack, a body beating.

Lindsay's thicker arms pumped fist after fist into Paris's skinny waist, marking her ribs and her 22 inch waist. Paris grunted as the heavy blows worked her middle and started using her elbow on Lindsay's back and neck. The elbow worked and Lindsay pushed off and retreated shrugging her shoulders. Paris leaned against the fence breathing heavy, she was actually bleeding where the thin skin covering her ribs had been grated raw.

The blonde cursed and came off the fence. Lindsay charged again. This time Paris side-stepped and kicked hard to the back of the redhead's knee as she passed. Lindsay yelped and fell face first into the fence she had intended to crush Paris into. Sondra exploded into the mouth of the girl who had every inch of Sondra's immense clit in her mouth while pumping fingers in and out of Sondra's cunt and ass.

Sondra held onto the fence and moaned still watching the battle. Paris planted her left heel and stomp kicked the red head from behind. Her wicked heel ripped open a gash on the starlet's rounded right ass cheek. Lindsay yelled and scrambled along the cage on her hands and knees. Paris clicked after her trying to get in a kick. Her left toe caught the sturdier girl four or five times, but the redhead was moving so fast away from the right foot that Paris' kicks were mere spurs to move faster. It looked funny, but Sondra knew the heiress was wasting time and frittering away a great chance to finish it.

Paris stopped chasing and sent a final kick and the fleeing ass and literally did kick the starlet's ass much to the amusement of the audience. Lindsay scrambled out of range and was immediately climbing up the fence to stand and fight again. Paris rushed forward and drove a low blow into Lindsay's kidneys. The redhead groaned, it was a good punch, but didn't go down. Instead she screamed wildly, spun around and delivered a near perfect back fist to the heiress' left cheek with the left fist.

Paris staggered backwards, stunned. Lindsay spun around and found herself standing in range of the off balance blonde. The shorter bitch stepped forward and drove her right fist straight into Paris's nose. Paris' head snapped backwards and the heiress twisted around staggering away her gloves going for her nose. Now her gloves were as dangerous to her face as they were to Lindsay's. Fortunately for her she realized it before she brushed against her now bloody nose. Lindsay brought down an old fashioned double handed ax hammer across the heiress's bent over back.

Paris groaned. Her back arched and the blow drove her to her knees. Lindsay decided she wanted some revenge for the spiking she had been taking. With Paris on her hands and knees and her skinny ass up in the air, the redhead drove the spike of her right foot straight at the exposed pouching pussy winking at her between Paris' thin ass cheeks. Sondra knew it would hit just right.

Paris screamed and shot forward as the heel penetrated her famous cunt. She moved so fast that Lindsay lost her balance and staggered away before she could enjoy the sight of the heiress' cunt blood on her metal spikes. The pain brought Paris around immediately. The heiress was up on her feet and charging the starlet screaming curses before Lindsay had time to plant her own feet.

The blonde rammed into the heavier girl, bounced off and started throwing a melee of punches. Lindsay stood firm and fired back. Faces and arms were hit. Tits were crushed. Nipples grazed. Bellies penetrated. Ribs hammered. Kidneys punched. Paris' already ruined mouth was shredded. Her bloody nose poured and a bad cut opened on her left cheek and her right eyebrow was ripped open. The blonde's hard, fast fists did some work on the starlet. Lindsay's forehead was ripped from side to side sending a wave of blood down to screw up her vision. Then her nose opened up. Her eyes started swelling, and then her lips got mulched almost as bad as the blonde. But Paris' best innovation was using her forearms on the redhead's big nipples. Every time Paris punched she dragged her forearm across Lindsay's tits on the way back. After five or six grazes the glass and abrasive glue and turned the red thumbs into bright red, weeping blood and lymph points of agony. Lindsay actually covered her nipples with her arms after one seemingly meaningless brush with the glass covered glove.

As soon as the starlet protected her nipples, the heiress drove a straight right into the redhead's wide open face. The punch took the bitch on the bridge of the nose. It wasn't the first punch to hit the nose, but it was the one that counted. Lindsay's head snapped back and she stopped dead in her tracks. She wobbled. Blood poured out of her visibly ballooning nose and she stood there dumbly.

Paris hammered her with a left to the right cheek and a right to the left cheek. The redhead's face snapped back and forth her wet matted hair flying through a cloud of blood and sweat knocked from her face. Lindsay wobbled backwards still not fighting back. Paris planted her left foot and drove her long right leg up and out. This time her heel jammed straight into Lindsay's clit before grinding along the pubic bone.

The starlet fell hard against the fence and then slid down it to land on her ass. She grabbed herself, putting her own glue and glass covered fists against her bleeding mound. Paris was already driving another heel forward. This time rather than puncture a tit she drove it into the center of the starlet's mouth. Even Sondra gasped.

Paris jerked her foot back. Lindsay lay back against the cage wall. Her mouth was gaping open and blood and shattered teeth dribbled down her chin to fall on her heaving breasts. It looked like the four teeth in the upper center of her mouth had been shattered, broken off at the gum and the spike must have ripped open the inside of her mouth. A shot like that could have killed the bitch! Lindsay quaked and held up her hands in a sign of total surrender. A river of blood spewed from her ruined mouth covering her tits and belly.

Paris drove her right knee through the hands and crushed Lindsay's broken nose again spreading it across her bloody face. The heiress used her knee repeatedly against the limp body of her rival. Lindsay bounced around like a rag doll. The heiress grew exhausted, stepped back and pushed the redhead onto her left side. Then Paris carefully stepped down on the starlet's already ruined left breast driving it flat against the bloody marble floor and then grinding her heel into the meat until the point of the heel was scraping against the marble. She had holed the bitch's tit and nailed it to the floor!

The entire audience was roaring its approval now. Sondra had heard that wild sound before. The last time it had been as the Dagger had used Sondra's 46DD tits as handles and pulled her over the Dagger's shoulders and pile driven the Swede into the floor snapping her neck and knocking her out. When Sondra had awakened in the tank that ugly roar of bloodlust was still in her ears. It was exceedingly unusual to be part of that roaring mob rather than its object and quite pleasurable. Retirement with the right amount of money might just be palatable.

Paris walked Lindsay's left tit into oblivion, leaving it nothing more than a bloody shredded bag on the unconscious girl's body. Paris was exhausted and without the use of her hands found it difficult to do the same to the right. She settled for grinding the knuckles of her right fist into Lindsay's bloody crotch leaving a good coating of glue and glass in the mauled flesh. Before she could put a spike in the round came to an end.

True to the rules of the feud, there was no stopping the fight. The attendants dutifully stripped of the rubber gloves and replaced them with the standard cat fight gloves with their steel false nails. Lindsay's head drooped during most of it. Then she amazingly woke up screaming. She was still sobbing and begging for mercy from her ex-friend when the third round began.

Sondra knew she had won her bet but wanted to warn Paris to be careful that she didn't ruin her triumph by killing her victim. The blonde stalked the staggering redhead calling her former “best friend forever” every kind of cunt and coward she could think of. Then Paris moved in for what could only be called the near kill.

Lindsay screamed and tried to fight. Paris used her claws to rip open the redhead's arms. As the bitch hunched over trying to protect herself, the blonde ripped open her back stripping off the skin. Lindsay was on her hands and knees screaming and begging for mercy. Paris dropped down on her and pinned the bitch facedown on the bloody marble. Using her metal claws the heiress methodically ripped open the starlet's ass cheeks flaying them until they were uniformly raw and red. Then she stuck her claws into the poor starlet from behind. Lindsay passed out long before she lost her sex and had her anus ripped open. Paris seemed unhappy that she couldn't wake the gory redhead for the removal of her big nipples or the two handed destruction of her right breast. In the final minute, Paris carefully removed Lindsay's mouth, nose and ears, but she left her both her eyes. Sondra wondered if the heiress had just forgot the eyes because from what she had seen she knew the rich bitch didn't have an ounce of mercy in her.

The blonde stood over the bloody heap and carefully pissed into the wounds before raising her bloody arms in total victory. Under the terms of the fight the official victory would not be determined until the first one had left the regeneration tanks, but everyone knew that Paris would be the first one out and that Lindsay would be in the tanks and subsequently serving as the heiress' special slave for a very long time. It was one of the most brutally efficient victories Sondra had ever seen, professional or not. When Lindsay disappeared from the public view for a year or more the stories would be about drug rehab or a religious pilgrimage to a foreign land. The public would never know but Paris and her circle would know and Lindsay would live with that her whole life!

Sondra looked forward to hooking up with the celebutant, assuming the flighty heiress even remembered her promise months from now. Team Paris celebrated wildly even though their leader was probably already inside the tanks. Sondra enjoyed the decadent girls fully only stopping long enough to see Yumiko defeat Melina by blood rules and advance onto the next round.

Sondra didn't look forward to having to face Yumiko again. Of course none of the fighters would be easy so it really didn't matter. The only one she had anything to avenge was Amanda and she truly hoped the black American would survive long enough for them to settle their score.

The next night had twelve fights and Sondra spent her time with another rich matron of the Blood Rules Rings. Amanda gave Simba her first beating by a knockout. The black American beat the Black African with another of her deadly kicks with less than a minute to go in the last round. The next night Amanda accepted a 100,000 price to fuck an oil sheik while he watched the fights. It wasn't bad duty because he enjoyed giving Sondra his wives to abuse once he had cum once. Olga eliminated Ivana that night. The fourth night ended with Sondra going to the tanks. She had lost her right nipple again, but she had forced Carol into a humiliating slave submission. The drawing after match sat up the seventh round of matches: Yumiko against Simba, and Olga against Amanda. Sondra had won the randomly awarded bye. She would be off for an extra month, but would be fighting the next two fights in a row assuming she won the first.