Please note this is an extremely violent story of a catfight that will inevitably end in a fatality, hence the title. If you are unlikely to appreciate that type of story please do not read on.
There are very few things you need to know about me. You don’t need to know my name or where I live, for instance, or how I came to have my vast fortune, only that I have it. What you do need to know, however, is that from the earliest age I can remember I have been intrigued by the prospect of two women fighting. At first it was just watching two ageing stars sprawl and brawl in mud on an 80’s soap opera, then it was watching women wrestling in American Wrestling promotions, then the Internet and far darker desires and fetishes. My money meant that I found out about and attended several underground proper catfight events, they are out there, they’re no urban myth, if you know the right people and have enough money you can find them. And as my fetish grew so did their extremes, until we reach this point .Here and now I am watching a taped catfight in my state of the art studio. On my massive screen two bottled blondes, Tara and Paris, are tearing each other apart, it’s uncommonly vicious and brutal. I have my dick in my hand and beyond ecstasy and as Tara takes a decisive upper hand a thought overrides all others in my head at that moment. She should finish her, snuff her out.
I came as Paris collapses unconscious to the canvas of the ring they are fighting in, her face a bloody mess and as the referee stepped in front of Tara to hold her back I imagined he wasn’t there and that wasn’t the end. It was as intense a catfight as I had had and I knew then it was a fight that I would have to arrange. I wanted to see a fatal fight!
There are various underground catfight leagues/organisation and my money had bought me access to them all (and indeed a some influence in them too) if there was a fight organised that I though would be particularly violent or worth seeing, I would make sure I was there, front and centre. I had been attending for years, consequently I knew pretty much all the serious fighters out there and once I had the idea fixed in my mind of wanting to host my own personal fatal fight I was equally determined as to which two fighters I wanted to participate, and I thought that, given the right financial incentive, they would both agree to my deadly proposal.
My first contestant would be a blonde, Swede called Ulrika. She was 37 and I had seen her in lots of brutal, vicious clashes over the years, winning far more than she ever lost. She had the gleam in her eye when she fighting and you instinctively knew she was enjoying herself while dishing out and taking incredible levels of punishment. She was a devious and cruel fighter and specialised in cruel and painful submission moves to gain squealing cries of submission from her usually overmatched foes. I had witnessed many of her battles on the European circuit and was determined she would be one of my contestants. I also felt she would be game for such a serious challenge.
I was not quite so certain of my other dream fighter for the battle. Her name was Julia and she was American, also 37 years old and sported the most gorgeous long, auburn locks that made her look so fearsome when they came loose during a fight. She too was noted for the violence and sheer brutality of her battles and was very much a striker, her punches having the effect like her hands were made from stone. Where my great hope for convincing her to take up my ultimate challenge was that she was a real mercenary and with the purse I was offering I couldn’t see her turning the opportunity down.
Of course, I should also say that both women had met twice before, I had witnessed both wars and they had left a definite last effect upon me (and on themselves too). The first was on European soil and everyone had expected an Ulrika victory, a massacre as Julia was new to the scene and no one there had really heard of her. Maybe that played a part in Ulrika not taking it seriously enough but whatever it ended conclusively with the blonde spark out from a crushing uppercut that knocked several of her teeth out. The re-match was held in America and I was right up at the side of the cage they battled in to see Ulrika work her violent magic and do all kinds of everything to Julia’s big tits in making her squeal a pathetic surrender. it was embarrassment the American girl had never repeated and never forgotten and I knew that would help my case.
Ulrika was to be participating in a fight in England in three weeks so, naturally I made sure of my place at ringside and would approach her after the battle. I spent the time while waiting for then making the necessary arrangements to my house to make my dream match perfect. In no time at all I was across the Atlantic and standing outside a tall, locked cage looking on as Ulrika was strutting to t it wearing an electric blue dressing gown (electric blue being her colour - all her outfits were in that colour). She was greeted with a chorus of boos from the hugely partisan crowd but I noticed that catfight enthusiasts like myself gave her the respect she deserved. She wasted no motion as she stalked inside the cage and her face was set in a determined stare, she had aged somewhat since I had last seen her fight but she was still an impressive specimen.
Then the night air was disturbed by loud pop music and the crowd erupted as the home town favourite emerged from behind her curtain in the abandoned warehouse that had been so lovingly converted by enthusiasts like myself. Her opponent was called Cheryl, a 23 year old from Newcastle, England and she was indeed a rare beauty She was slightly smaller than Ulrika and had long honey coloured hairy and a beautiful smile, which she was flashing at the crowd right then. She wore a scarlet, short gown and was flashing her tiny bikini underneath as she strutted towards the cage.
These two had a history all right. Ulrika had demolished one of Cheryl’s stalemates Nadine (a young Irish beauty) and Cheryl had been putting the bad mouth on the older Swede since - and Cheryl had quite the foul mouth! Some of the stuff she had called Ulrika was slanderous and vicious and it had done the job as eventually Ulrika had acquiesced to a match. Cheryl had even been allowed to chose the match rules and had plumped for no submissions, only pin falls counting, thereby eliminating one of Ulrika’s most dangerous weapons. The nubile beauty surely had some kind of chance.
As they were announced to the rabid crowd they slid out of their gowns to reveal their sexy bodies in their small bikini tops and bottoms (electric blue versus red), no doubt Cheryl had a breathtaking body, but this would be no sexfight. But I turned to watch the Swede and she was boring a laser like stare through her younger opponent and I got my first inkling that tonight could be pretty special. Just a feeling that the cocky English girl was in way over her head. The referee closed the cage door and brought both women together to remind them this was a no holds barred catfight and that it could only end when one pinned the other. He signalled to the bell keeper and stepped back and clapped to bring the carnage on!
Cheryl had the better of the opening few minutes of the fight, scoring with quick jabs and kicks that did little damage but kept her on the move. The crowd loved it and roared their favourite on but any seasoned watcher knew Ulrika was taking minimum damage and the younger girl was running out of steam, especially as Ulrika’s forearms were taking most of the blows. Then almost from nowhere a slightly tiring Cheryl strode forward to deliver a punch and walked into thunderous uppercut that nearly took her young head off. She recoiled back against the cage, her eyes glazed over and the Swede held her by the shoulders and delivered the most bone crushing head butt right onto Cheryl’s previously perfect nose. It was like an explosion on Cheryl’s face and it cascaded in blood immediately.
The English girl slumped to the canvas and the crowd frenzy died suddenly, they knew she was beaten and the fight was effectively over. Ulrika could have covered her there and then but chose to goad the crowd before walking calmly over to her downed opponent and dropping her knee right into Cheryl’s face. If she had pinned her then the match would have taken a mere five minutes but somehow and critically for Cheryl the pin didn’t take place until almost twenty five minutes later.
They were twenty five minutes of the most brutal, violent, one sided action I had ever witnessed and when it was eventually over Cheryl was never going to be the same as when she had entered the cage. All because the silly girl had been stupid enough to make it personal with Ulrika and to agree to that pinfall only rule. It meant that she could submit all she wanted to (and boy did she want to!) and it be no use and the referee couldn’t stop it either. Ulrika casually ripped off Cheryl’s top and pants to reveal her naked body but it was not to embarrass her only to expose her more sensitive parts to her cruel fingers. Yes Ulrika kept just about the nastiest pair of fingernails in the western hemisphere, nearly an inch long and filed to razor sharp points. And with Cheryl rendered helpless from the punch, head butt and knee combination those nails started tearing away at young flesh.
Ulrika was relentless, like a machine in her systematic destruction of the younger girl. All of a sudden Cheryl looked like a lost little girl and as Ulrika stalked her relentlessly from behind Cheryl somehow managed to roll onto her front and crawl toward the cage right across from me, I looking into her scared, brown eyes set in her already bloody scarred face and then to the Swede’s merciless blue eyes and knew this would be something special. Ulrika tore Cheryl’s red bikini from her body with minimum resistance – it was no act of humiliation or anything sexual, just that its removal would allow Ulrika and her hands far easier access to the most sensitive areas to maul. She grabbed Cheryl by her long mane of hair and hauled her to her feet , still facing against the mesh of the cage, it was the perfect position for Ulrika to wildly rub her face against the cage like a cheese grater, opening up her mashed nose further in the process. After a full minute of that she tossed her foe to the centre of the cage and stalked towards her again. Cheryl was fading fast and realising how much trouble she was in, she looked at the ref and tried to submit but he just shook his head at her.
“That’s not the rules honey.”
In desperation, from a position on her back Cheryl swiped her legs out at her advancing enemy, connecting with a few kicks to Ulrika’s calves. She nearly laughed then taking advantage of the legs position to launch a vicious kick between them and right up in a bone crushing collision with Cheryl’s pussy mound. It was over, Ulrika could have taken the pin and victory from anytime onwards but she didn’t. Instead she lowered her hands, claws first, and latched them to the underside of Cheryl’s sweet, young breasts. You could see in Cheryl’s pain face the exact moment when Ulrika’s talons pierced that soft skin and in an instant the Swede had used her hold to haul her opponent to her feet. When she pulled her hands back they left ten bright red streaks across her soft breast flesh but she had no time to suffer that as Ulrika latched both sets of talons onto Cheryl’s nipples and began to try and rip them from her breasts. And after five minutes of that it was difficult to say if she had been successful or not such was the blood soaked mess her pert tits were in.
The home crowd was horrified and had already given up on a victory but it was hard not to watch the clinical destruction the Swede delivered to their favourite. Obviously the younger girls cocky attitude had really annoyed Ulrika and she seemed hell bent on wreaking carnage. From the breasts back to the face and it was hard to believe that Cheryl would ever regain her former looks as fist after fist, knee after knee pounded her bloody face further. She tired of that, her foe now nothing more than a rag doll in her powerful arms, her grip on Cheryl’s long hair slipping in the wet blood in her hair as she lifted her and slammed her face first into the cage mesh again and rubbed her face again. Two minutes of rubbing and Cheryl’s features were hardly recognisable and as Ulrika takes her time to survey the damage she has caused she draws her head back and brings it slamming forward in another nose shattering head butt. Three more follow until Cheryl’s nose is just a wrecked, flattened, destroyed shell and she slumps to the canvas when Ulrika releases her.
The cover comes then and thankfully for Cheryl the battle is over. It was a war she would likely never recover from and certainly her looks have been destroyed but she does escape alive as the medics (hired on the side) entered cage immediately after the pinfall and tend to the injured fighter. Me? I can only wish that the cold Swede had finished her foe off, can only imagine how she would have ended her young rival’s life. It’s quite the thought.
With Cheryl left in that demolished state Ulrika stalked carefully from the cage. She reminded me of a Lioness leaving the scene of one of her kills to go and clean herself, purring contentedly. She gave little or no emotion to the crowd as she passed by them, most of them hushed by the violence they had witnessed it being further confirmed by the liberal splashes of scarlet coloured blood splattered on both Ulrika’s blue bikini and her pale skin. As she passed through the entrance curtain I made my move to follow her and was well enough known and respected to be granted an audience with the recovering Gladiator. In truth she was hardly out of breath and without missing a beat she peeled off her bikini and stepped into the rudimentary shower provided for the contestants.
At her demand I told her my business. I told her who I was (she knew alright, and had heard stories about my involvement in the cat fight scene both in Europe and the States), told her what I wanted to stage and the stakes, told her the money involved and explained who I intended her opponent to be. She stepped out of the shower at mention of Julia’s name. For such a serious proposition as I was offering she seemed to agree with an almost undue haste.
“OK, you’re on, but only if it’s her. I accept your terms entirely. It should be this way.”
There was a coldness and iciness to her voice and her stare as she said this that made me think that I could have go her to agree for a whole lot less money. Obviously there was a lot of pride and personal animosity between them. Maybe I was actually doing them a favour setting this up, maybe their rivalry had to come to a permanent end. Whatever it was I didn’t care I had got her agreement and I promised to send her full details over the next couple of weeks and got her word that no-one would ever know about the fight, no-one but the three of us (assuming I could sign Julia up).
*
With one half of my dream mach up agreed I wasted no time trying to snare the other and to get this battle properly arranged. A couple of quick phone calls to contacts in the secretive underground world of American catfights and I had the date and place for Julia’s next encounter, as it was only five days away I decided to do as I had done with Ulrika and watch her in action before approaching her with my proposition.
It was a much more sporting orientated crowd this bout was to be held on and it pitted Julia against a girl called Sandra. I had watched Sandra in a few fights previously and knew that this would no way be as one sided as the battle I had witnessed in the UK. Sandra was a couple of years younger than Julia at 35 and some would say a little prettier. She was about 5’8, had long, straight, raven coloured hair, ample breasts and was a definite fan favourite due to her infectious smile and bouncy personality. She was also a heavy hitter and like Julia was a bit of an expert at b- as well as being able to mix it up on the ground.
It was the main event on a five fight card and while the under card featured a range of young women ripping the hell out of each other nothing really took my eye particularly. I was being consumed by this fixed idea of the fatal challenge and nothing else mattered to me other than it going ahead. This was actually one of the more modern and smart arenas to watch fights in and I relaxed in a comfortable chair as I watched both women enter the ring (this contest was held within just ropes rather than a cage). Don’t be totally fooled though while the surrounding and match up might not seem as barbaric as those in which Ulrika triumphed this was going to be no friendly contest. Yes both Julia and Sandra specialised in boxing but there were no gloves here, it was strictly bare knuckle territory and there were no rules that said that was all they could use either. There was, however, scope for a submission, a pinfall or a ten count and I recognised the referee as one of the over careful ones on the circuit (I hated when they would stop a battle just as it was getting interesting). It was also a naked challenge so when they both took off their robes they were stark naked in the ropes and prowling their corners like tigers waiting for the signal and bell.
I gloried for a moment in both women’s figures, they both had full, plump bosoms and thin, toned stomachs. Both were tanned and ready to go to war. The bell rang and they advanced towards each other cautiously, flinging out exploratory jabs and feints. This lasted a minute or so and then both moved closer and their punches found their targets more often. Julia scored a punch to Sandra’s right breast which momentarily stunned her but Sandra recovered to fire a blow into Julia’s ribs that made her think twice about advancing.
It was a slow, cautious start that showed both women respected the other but the crowd were growing impatient, they wanted violence and blood, and wanted it now! They did not have long to wait. Encouraged by the rib punch Sandra moved in and fired in another two similar blows that found their mark. Julia sucked it up, took the punishment then uncoiled her body in one instant and shot a fast right out that smashed into Sandra’s exposed chin. For a brief moment it looked like she would stay up, against all odds, but she wavered then toppled and crashed on her back to the canvas. Julia was on her in a flash, straddling her chest and positioned to throw fist after fist at her opponents face. They were accurate shots and I could hear the satisfying smash of knuckles to face as Sandra desperately tried to cover up with her arms. Eventually she did but her pretty face took a pounding in the process.
The referee stood back, there were no compulsory stand ups here, if the downed woman wanted out of the perilous position she had to get out herself. As Julia unloaded more heavy bombs with her fists Sandra obviously decided she would need to use tactics less than the Marquis of Queensbury rules as she sunk her fingernails into Julia’s overhanging boob and scratched for all she was worth. It certainly got Julia’s attention and got her off as she pulled her body clear of the ripping talons to find blood on the own tits. But as Sandra scrambled up to her knees it was readily apparent she was also much the worse for wear, as her nose was dripping blood, her right eye was swelled right up and a cut was on her left eye brow. Talk about targets, and as Julia shook of her pain she marched forward and started swinging fists at Sandra’s face again.
But Sandra was ready and kept her head just out of range, batting some of the blows away with her arms until she caught Julia’s wrist held it, pulled her in close and fired a knee up into her crotch all in one fluid move. Julia had just enough experience and savvy to get her thighs somewhat drawn together but she was still winded and allowed her head to drop a little. Sandra was waiting for that and hooked her fingers into Julia’s hair to control her head and keep it looking down as she fired her knees up into Julia’s face. They weren’t great connecting blows but they certainly did some damage and Sandra was able to back her foe against the ropes and step back to deliver some punches as well, pounding them into Julia’s gut. Finally Sandra threw Julia across the ring by her hair, which, although it looked good, was a dumb move as it just created distance between them at the time she needed to be right in close and on top of Julia.
Sandra followed her across the ring on her feet and kicked Julia in her ribs but that was dumb too as Julia caught her foot, twisted it and jerked her to the ground too. There they scrabbled about for a while, the action somewhat lost in a tangle of limbs and loose, long hair. Fists flew, elbows were thrown and scratches led to shrieks and cries not heard by then in the fight. The crowd held it’s breath as we waited to see who would take the upper hand.
It was Julia! She hauled herself to her knees then her feet, taking Sandra up by her hair as she went, ripping the dark locks as she went. Julia pushed Sandra away from her them measured a vicious uppercut right to her chin and I swear a tooth landed just inches from where I sat. Blood spilled from Sandra’ damaged mouth and she collapsed against the ropes. Julia showed no mercy though and advanced with more, measured hard punches to Sandra’s face, shattering her nose and opening up those cuts already on her face.
Sandra was virtually defenceless and as Julia rained more blows in on her I could see the referee almost itching to stop this but he knew that he had to keep it going a while longer to satisfy the more blood thirty of us in the crowd. Boy, I bet Sandra was wishing for the end then as those fists were still packing some serious power and they were almost unerring as they found her smashed pulp of a face. Sandra slipped off the ropes and to her knees, she was making no effort to defend herself yet still Julia relentlessly pounded her until she fell face first, out, on the canvas. It took two vicious, nasty knees driven to the downed woman’s head for the referee to step between them and waved the fight off and I couldn’t help but wonder if that glint in Julia’s eyes was that of someone who wanted to continue what she had started.
It was almost a full hour after they had left the ring that I was finally able to speak to Julia alone. She was showered and changed and itching to escape the arena and see to her various cuts and bruises, they weren’t too bad but certainly marked up her pretty face somewhat. Mind you if Julia was like that I could only imagine 9and a w- dream at that) of what kind of mess Sandra’s cute features would be in right then. She had agreed to see me for a few moments but looked visibly annoyed and inpatient, obviously only giving me the time due to my standing in the catfight community and the influence I had through my finances.
When I presented my plan, my grand scheme to satisfy my primal urges, she was much more guarded than Ulrika had been. She listened coolly as I outlined my proposal and the risks and rewards at stake. She barely flickered an eyelid as I mentioned Ulrika as her opponent and I was growing increasingly concerned and convinced that she would turn me down flat. After all I had seen her do I would never question her warrior spirit but I had to doubt it there as I remembered how quickly the Swede had agreed to my terms weeks earlier. But it turned out that Julia was just a better businesswoman. Her mercenary side had taken over and she had obviously recognised in me the deep desire to see my grotesque fantasy come to life and realised that she could, perhaps, screw more cash out of me.
I admit I caved, offering her a cool $100,000 more than I had offered Ulrika to sign up for the fight, not that I cared really I was filthy rich anyway and it was nothing, well nothing compared to the prospect of watching these two mighty warrior women go head-to-head in a fight to the finish, knowing that their very lives were at stake.
I spent the next fortnight or so in constant contact with both Julia and Ulrika, keeping them updated on the likely date for the fight. After some negotiation I got the date agreed as the last weekend in November. How apt, I thought, d- always seems more at home in the cold dark months of the year. In all only four people in the world would know about this, myself, Julia, Ulrika and my trusted aide Jones (an admirable man with discretion to spare and capability to match). As the date grew closer I had all the necessary amendments made to my mansion to suit each woman’s individual training needs. I had made it a clause that both would have to spend the entire week building up to the contest in my house so that I could observe them training mentally and physically at close quarters and also, if needed fan their flames of hatred towards each other. I had two gyms built within my existing ones to totally match their requirements and made sure that every single thing they could possible want was at hand for that week as I did not intend to allow them any contact with the outside world while they were with me. I worried that either might change their mind right up to the last minute but finally on a wet, dull November afternoon both arrived separately by personal taxi to my front door and I greeted them in the hall. Every member of staff had been given the week off paid and told not to even mention it so other than Jones who busied himself with their bags it was only the three of us standing in a triangle, both women staring hard at me.
The intimidation and games had started already, neither would even look at the other and I had to lead each, individually to their rooms, explaining that that evening over tea, once they had settled in I would go over the itinery for that week with them. As I had expected both seemed incredibly tense, focussed and determined. I knew this was going to be the week of my life.
That first meal set the tone for the week. We dined in my rather austere dining room and at my heirloom long table, myself at the head of the table and Julia and Ulrika at the sides, directly across from each other. It was distinctly uncomfortable and a serious, tense atmosphere quickly developed. I could sense the anger and enmity they held for the other and kind of half wished it would spill over before the next Saturday nights appointment in my specially constructed pit. But it never, they never spoke to each other and it was left to me to carry on the conversation.
I explained in great detail what they would be doing that week, that they would be allowed to train for the fight in whatever manner they so desired, at any hour they so desired and with any equipment they so desired. I regretted that sparring partners were, due to the nature of the contest, not available and both accepted that. They knew how serious this business was now, in less than seven days one of them would be dead and the other would be the person that had killed her. But neither seemed intimidated by that thought. I explained again how the winner would receive their money and what I would provide them with after the fact and gave both assurances and demands that what went on must never be told to anyone outside the three of us.
That week was a joy to me. To watch these two Amazons, these two mighty gladiators train their bodies to within an inch of exhaustion, up close was an unadulterated pleasure for me. They were so focussed I doubted they even realised I was there watching them, drinking in their routines and techniques and making little comments as to what the other was doing and my own thoughts on the fight. As far as possible I tried to stir things up between them too, reminding both of their previous loses to the other and the consequences of losing this one, taking both out, together on the Wednesday morning to show them the spot I had chosen to bury the loser (and I was delighted to observe that so cheap a trick elicited a reaction from both as they visibly winced at my words and the large mound of earth already dug) and finally insisting on the Friday evening at they acknowledge the others presence and tell them face to face what their thoughts on the other were and what they were going to do in the fight.
It was great, I got a close up seat as two of the toughest bitches on the planet let loose with some of the crudest, vicious, violent threats imaginable and I could observe as both lost their thin veneers of coolness about the contest.
The atmosphere was thick as the brunette and the blonde faced up to each other, fort he first time in nearly a week their eyes properly met and both held their stares, determined to not give any kind of psychological advantage before the war. For an incredible minute I believed that they would not speak but just as I prepared to break the tense silence Julia spoke, her deep Southern Belle accent carrying more menace and venom that you would imagine possible.
“You blonde cunt I am going enjoy destroying you, I‘ll make you beg me to spare you then snuff you out like a cheap candle!”
The vicious tirade and threat over she paused and maintained her intense stare into Ulrika’s eyes. The Swede allowed a crocodile smile to pass across her thin lips and deliberately drew her thumb across her own throat in a slitting motion and spoke with an icy assurance in response.
“Rest assured American Bitch, when I end it I will drag your carcass to that grave myself and take great pleasure covering you up with earth.”
It was spoken with the utmost conviction and once it was out they turned away at exactly the same moment and marched away to their rooms for what would prove to be for one of them, their final nights sleep in their relatively short, violent lives. I enjoyed a couple of glasses of finest cognac and a Cuban cigar as I looked forward to the morn.
It was another dull, grey, sombre October morning when I rose and myself and Jones enjoyed a fine breakfast and lunch and went about arranging some of my business and a couple of trips in the upcoming weeks as my two warriors prepared themselves in their rooms. Both had requested to be alone that day to finalise their preparations and I was more than willing to do that, stating that I would see each, individually for a final rundown thirty minutes before the battle, which would be held at six pm that afternoon. The afternoon dragged but finally it was time and I entered their rooms and instructed them to follow me downstairs to my own personal arena. Both wore gowns but that mattered not as I had told them that the whole fight must be a completely nude one, and no weapons or otherwise could be used.
We descended in silence to my massive basement, me using a key to unlock it and grant us access to ‘The Pit’. As both women stood either side of me I turned and locked the door and pocketed the key, I did not intend for this beautiful moment to be in any way interrupted – for me only the three of us now existed in the world. I turned and gazed in wonder at my own arena, it had been home to many fantastic moments in my self arranged catfights but this would undoubtedly top them all. Describing it is simple, there really is no difficulty imagining it, all it is is a circular hole dug deep into the ground and supported by metal struts around the perimeter of it. It wasn’t huge, with a diameter of only fifty feet, but that was intentional to prevent any running away. It was five foot deep below the basement floor surface which meant once they were in there, there was literally no way out. Around the edge at floor level I had a wire fence that connected between the metal support struts, they were angled back inwards over the pit some four foot above floor level. It was an enclosed, claustrophobic enclosure that ensured things would be kept tight and intense.
A gap was built into the fence and I stepped through it and lowered a rope ladder and stood aside as first Julia then Ulrika descended into the Pit, one, surely making their final journey. As I had instructed they stood at opposing sides of the earthen circle, bare footed and entirely naked as I closed the gate, retracted the rope ladder and addressed them, trying desperately to keep my excitement from my voice. I held up a briefcase and cracked it open to hold up for them.
“Ladies, this is what you are fighting for. Whoever emerges from down there will collect this and be able to do whatever they want with it. There are no rules, you can do whatever you like to win the fight but as I have told you from the beginning to emerge victorious from there you will need to slay your opponent. This will be a fight to the finish, I give each of you one last chance to bow out. No takers? Good. Then fight!”
As I finished speaking I signalled with my hand to the overhead camera being remotely controlled by Jones, various recording equipment throughout the basement would ensure I could enjoy this moment for years and years to come. I dropped to my knees and unzipped my trousers to release my rock hard dick and took a good grip of it as the two women slowly started to circle each other.
From that moment when the command was out of my mouth I no longer existed to either of them, the fact they were naked was of no relevance to them (other than from a target point of view) all that mattered, all that they were concentrating on was the other, their eyes like hawks scouring for the slightest movement. Their feet shuffled from side to side, maintaining the distance between them, scuffing across the hard packed, dry earthen ground. I was delighted and could hardly contain my excitement as to who would make the first offensive move.
The tense impasse was finally broken by Julia ducking forward and throwing an exploratory jab that all three of us realised was not about any connection more a fact finding exercise to gauge Ulrika’s reaction. That was simple she just swayed easily back and dismissively swatted the effort away. Amazingly both women smiled and continued their early fight sparring. I briefly thought back to their previous encounters and remembered that neither of those had started nearly so cagily, that was no surprise I suppose given the heightened stakes. Very slightly they both seemed to inch forward, towards each other and came very nearly within range of the other but still they maintained their watchful brief, seemingly waiting for the other to make a move to counter it. Again it was Julia that brought it to her opponent, this time feinting another jab at Ulrika but following up with a much more weighty punch aimed directly at her gut. Both missed but barely and in the follow through Ulrika was able to wrap her arms around Julia’s and pull both to the deck in a jumble of limbs. At last the action had started for real!
They were so evenly matched that in many ways it was fascinating watching them jockey for an advantageous position on the ground, they were similar heights, weights and had a similar level of experience. The blonde tried to get a good enough grip on her foe to twist her arms away from her to gain some kind of leverage while the brunette fired stabbing jabs that tied up like that carried a quarter of their usual sting but still kept the Swede from cinching in any holds properly. I think they both knew that whoever got the first kind of advantage would be at a huge advantage and both respected the skills of the other to know that a false move could finish things for them in an instant. That first advantage came to Ulrika, twisting at Julia’s left arm she took one of her solid punches, accepted it and in a flash released her hold and jammed her thumb right into Julia’s eye. It was a perfect hit and Julia would not be able to see properly from it for the duration. The American winced and knew it was a bad one but rather than flee as a less experienced f- might have done she tried to fall on her opponent, smothering her arms and legs and keeping her down, trying desperately to buy herself some time from any follow up.
Julia blinked furiously as he eye blurred and watered. For just an instant she felt the underside of her forearm touch the back of Ulrika’s struggling form. She struck as fast as a spitting cobra using her elbow like a piston and firing it down, getting two good shot in, connecting nastily with the back of the Swede’s neck. That felt good! Julia gave a grim smile as she felt the blows connect and felt Ulrika’s desperate efforts to scurry from under her and get away. Of course in that cramped pit she couldn’t get far but she got far enough to stare back across at her. They shared a look that seemed to indicate they both knew what they were in for. I could see from my vantage point that Julia was having real problems with that eye, it had swelled somewhat and she seemed incapable of opening it. That would certainly be quite the disadvantage.
Although she was rubbing and massaging at her neck there was no doubt Ulrika had noticed it too as she was inching her way to her right to be more and more on that blind side. Having gained a few quick yards she struck, springing forward to attack but Julia had expected it and fired back with a couple of really smart, stinging punches that battered to the blondes head. Outgunned Ulrika started to pull back but Julia kept coming and fired in a few more hard slaps and as Ulrika covered up, dug a vicious uppercut to her gut in for good measure. Feeling better about herself she piled forward but walked straight into another Ulrika dirty trick. She had taken those shots voluntarily (no the first ones) and as she recoiled from the uppercut she shot out a low punch right into Julia’s cunt. I knew she was a dirty fighter and was going to enjoy seeing how the American woman handled it in such a serious situation.
It wasn’t a great connection but enough to stagger Julia slightly and allow Ulrika to recover, grab the American’s pony tailed hair and fling her face first towards the wall of the rounded pit.
Both were hardened fighter and I was not surprised at how quickly Julia was able to seemingly recover from the blow and roll along the wall away from the Swede’s volley of follow up punches. But Ulrika was relentless, ignoring the pain in her neck she continued to follow the American around the pit until eventually she grabbed a hold of her long hair. This was a fight to the finish and although it was below her in normal fights to resort to pulling hair, here it was fair game. She jerked with all her considerable might and was rewarded with the audible ripping of hair from scalp and the first squeal of pain from her opponent. Julia rolled away again and this time when she winced and looked up she was greeted by the sight of the blonde with a handful of her auburn hair held in her hand.
Ulrika smiled and Julia sprang at her, gritting her teeth and dropping the hair Ulrika braced herself and their two bodies smashed together and the fell to the floor again, struggling desperately to land blows and gain an advantage.
Both bitches targeted the face, their hands and fingers clawing for an advantage, Ulrika trying desperately to locate that injured eye and jam her viciously sharp nails in again. Julia sensed almost immediately what she was trying to do and moved her arms and hands up in defence, eventually struggling to grip both the blonde’s wrists and holding her claws away from her face. Then in a flash, the American seized the advantage as the rolled on the ground, pulling her head back and smacking a head but right onto the blondes nose. It hardly carried full power but it was enough to partially stun Ulrika, make her drop her hands and as they came apart Julia was able to drive her forehead once again forward, this time with a little more venom.
First blood to Julia, as when they came apart I could see a massive red blot in the centre of Ulrika’s face, her nose nicely busted and a flow of claret coloured blood falling over her lips and down her chin. Julia offered no break though, seizing her chance to straddle her opponent and firing hard punches from the mount position at Ulrika’s unprotected face. Momentarily, the Swede’s arms were stuck under Julia’s knees and the American girl took full advantage, firing in punch after punch that did some real facial damage. Finally, somehow, Ulrika managed to half roll, half buck Julia off of her and backed away wiping at her hurt face.
Through her impaired vision Julia was gladdened to see the damage to the Swede’s face, besides her wrecked nose her bottom lip was cut and swelled right up, her right eye brow was cut and she had massive discolouration on much of her face. She had landed some serious heavy blows just like the first fight and had high hopes of scoring a knock out quick smart. She sprang forward but again Ulrika drew on her many fight experience to effectively counter. She, even as she felt the searing pain of her cuts and bruises on her face, she was tensing her fingers rigid, their nails sharpened to perfection and as she felt the whistle of the hook just miss her face she rammed those fingernails across Julia’s stomach and down, ripping across the American’s cunt lips.
I listened to the sweet sounds of a blood curdling scream from Julia and she forgot, for an instant the fight to use her hand to cover her damaged cunt. It was a mistake as Ulrika, injured or not this time swiped her claws at her face and ripped four furrows of skin deep across her cheek then lashed again across her breasts. Taking advantage further Ulrika went for the kill - literally! As Julia was stunned Ulrika got in behind her and wrapped her arm around the American’s throat and squeezed powerfully.
I watched as the blonde tensed every muscle in her upper body and tried to channel all that power and torque into the right forearm as she squeezed it inexorably under Julia’s chin. As she struggled frenziedly I saw for the first time the extreme fear on one of their faces - it made me even harder and I could hardly stop myself cumming there and then. Julia’s eyes bulged in panic and already I could observe the change in the colour of the skin on her face, her oxygen was being robbed and she was going an unhealthy shade of purple. What a sight it was, blood still trickling down Ulrika’s set face as she synched her choke in deeper and deeper and the fear spreading across her victim, knowing the fate that awaited the loser.
That fear must have set off an adrenaline rush in Julia as her movements became more frantic and wild, obviously sensing the end was near. Ulrika was concentrating on nothing but the choke and I don’t even know that she realised that Julia was starting to reverse and force them both back at a rate of knots but she must have when her back slammed into the wall of the pit. But despite that shuddering impact the Swede held on determinedly and as Julia staggered forward, away from the wall I thought she was done for. From somewhere she found the energy to do it again and this time luck was on her side, her backwards charge connecting solidly with one of the metal struts and smacking the back of Ulrika’s head nicely against the heavy metal. Both bodies collapsed to the ground in a messy heap but I was able to observe a claret blotch start to form on Ulrika’s skull.
For nearly sixty seconds no-one moved, not an inch. I held my breath - could it be over? Then a movement, a noise, a groan as Julia shifted her head slowly to look across the few yards that separated her from her opponent. Groggily she hauled herself up to her elbows with still no sign of life from her fellow gladiator. It appeared to be a real struggle for the American to pull herself up to her knees and cautiously reach over to lift up Ulrika’s head by her blood streaked hair, barely daring to hope that it could all be over. It wasn’t as in an instant, almost by reflex the blonde came to life and viciously slashed her nails right across Julia’s face. Julia reeled away screeching, holding her face as I observed as streak of her blood almost right across her face.
Ulrika tried to force herself to her feet to follow up, her foe still gasping to catch her breath and almost blinded now with her already damaged eye joined by the cuts at her good one. But her head being rammed so hard into the metal strut had fucked up her balance and Ulrika could hardly stand and it was all she could do to hold onto the self same strut and keep herself up as she desperately tried to recover.
With her hand over her face Julia was just able to glimpse Ulrika’s ascent and knew she had to act before the Swede regained her proper balance, the air loss from the choke still hampered her badly. Knowing she was hurt and wounded and acting in desperation the American drove her body at the Swede, cannoning her shoulder into her gut and again forcing her back onto the metal strut and again ricocheting her head nastily against it. Julia went for it now, demanding that her body stand even though it wanted to lay down, her leg strength paying off. Ulrika was sat down at her feet, her head against the metal, again dazed and stunned and bleeding, her head and hair now more red than any other colour. Julia pulled back her right leg and began to hammer in rapid knees, some catching Ulrika’s damaged face and some missing wildly.
Julia banged in more knees and kept on going, not caring whether they connected or not until finally, exhausted she laid her forearm against the strut and put her throbbing forehead against it and fought to catch her breath. She didn’t even look to see the state of her face surely that violent barrage would be enough to have ended it, if not actually kill Ulrika at least incapacitating her enough to pause and then finish the job. How wrong could she be? Yes she had delivered a bombardment of knees but most had either missed or hit nothing but shoulder blade. Yes some had mashed Ulrika’s face further and smacked the injured back of her head into the wall but not nearly enough. With her features now nearly obliterated in her own blood she somehow had enough about her to open her mouth and as the American woman stood over her, snap her jaws shut on Julia’s clit!
Ulrika’s sharpened teeth dug right in and kept going, Julia shot bolt upright at the sudden, intense pain in her pussy and for a moment didn’t have a clue what it was. As the pain only intensified she looked down her sweat and dirt streaked body to view the cause and threw some desperate punches at the Swede that only just managed to force her to let go. But that was all she could do and in excruciating pain she grabbed her injured cunt and dropped to her knees on top of her leaning opponent.
By this stage in proceedings I was almost hanging over the pit to get the best view possible and I could almost predict what was going to happen next before it did. It was obvious that both women were nearly done, real fights do that to you, they rarely last too long no matter how well these catfighters had trained for it. I saw that Julia’s pendulous breast was just at Ulrika’s mouth and just as I thought ‘wouldn’t it be cool if she bit it’ that was exactly what she did! And this time the positions made it such that it would be much harder for Julia to punch her way out of this. Indeed she couldn’t despite some flailing arms. Ulrika just bit down harder, biting and chewing for all she was worth. It made for quite the spectacle, these two warrior Goddesses, covered in their own sweat and blood, one writhing in unimaginable agony while the other strained every muscle in her head and neck to bite. Julia twisted and pulled and tried everything to achieve some separation but when it came I think all three of us were shocked. Julia few backwards and slapped on her ass, a large red blemish on her tit, then I realised that Ulrika had actually bitten it off. I saw the Swede try and pull herself up and spit something (it had to her Julia’s nipple) from her bloody mouth. They both seemed stunned but it was Ulrika (was she a machine!) who kept on coming. From where I looked on it appeared half her skull was caved in at the back but somehow she made it over to Julia who had just managed to get up to all fours.
Instinct and experience seemed to kick in for the Swede at that point. Julia was at her weakest and still comprehending having her nipple bitten off and so Ulrika was able to drop onto her back, wrap her legs around the American’s mid riff while simultaneously re-applying that deep choke from earlier. I watched as Julia tried to summon one last burst of energy to force herself up to try and yet again escape the hold but there wasn’t enough left in her tank. After one final push that failed she slammed down on her face and Ulrika rolled over so she was on her back and Julia facing right up at my leering face. It’s funny, because I could see in her one good eye that she had already accepted this was it, there was no further escape, her attempts to try and claw and scratch at Ulrika’s strong arm around her throat were weak to begin and quickly dropped off. Her face was rapidly changing colour again and this time way past the shade of red of earlier, she was taking on bluish tinges and I could see her limbs start to hang limply by her sides. I observed Ulrika risk loosening her grip for just an instant to lean into her beaten enemy and whisper something in her ear before re-applying the choke and wrenching it harder. I was too far gone by that part and without touching my straining dick I came, spraying an arc of my cum up and into the pit beside the fighters.
Ulrika kept the choke on for a full five more minutes, Julia must have slipped away much earlier than that but still the Swede kept the hold tight, not taking any chances until the American lay on her starting to lose her body heat. It was over.
*
In the aftermath I allowed my man servant to come into his own. He aided Ulrika out of the pit and tended expertly to her numerous wounds. She would certainly require some extensive surgery (which I promised to arrange with specialists as soon as practible) but by the next morning she was coherent enough to answer in the affirmative to my asking if she wanted to attend the burial of Julia. I had known she would. We waited until just before lunch before heading out there, Julia’s corpse on a wooden cart by the side of the grave I had shown them earlier that week.
“I want to put her in.”
Was the Swede’s demand, and I quickly acquiesced. I stood back as Ulrika, gingerly because of her myriad of injuries, shoved the corpse of her hated enemy into the grave and stood over it. Then to my shock she pulled down her trousers and squatted over the grave and after a moment began to piss in the dead body of her opponent.
“What are you doing?”
I asked (although it was obvious, I guess).
“Just before she died, in the last moments of her life I told her I would personally put her in this grave and piss on her rotting body. I’m a woman of my word!”
I gave a smile and turned to her and fired a tranquilliser dart into her neck.
“Unfortunately I am not.”
I walked up to her and pulled all the clothes off her paralysed body and kicked her into the grave with Julia. I knew she was conscious as I spoke.
“I couldn’t let either of you leave, not after that, not with the chance to black mail me. Jones, fill it in.”
With that I went off back to my Mansion to replay my tapes of the fight and leave Ulrika to be buried alive with the corpse of her victim.