NEVADA GRUDGE FIGHTS

[seller]

"NEVADA GRUDGE FIGHTS" by Cage

The Governor listened to the presentation by his most important constituents, the major casino owners in Las Vegas. They were proposing another outrage. He was calculating the profit to the state, the profit to himself and the risk of a national outcry that might bring the whole house down. The twenty-second century world was a wildly inconsistent time fraught with dangers for a politician.

Nevada had long been the center of gambling, prize fighting, sports betting and legalized prostitution. As the United States had grown progressively more conservative in its public morality it needed a safe, well-equipped playground to for its citizens to go to and do the things that other people in supposedly less free nations took for granted. Nevada had served this need for centuries.

It had grown rich on gambling and prostitution during the middle of the twentieth century. The big prize-fights had naturally followed the sports bettors. During the early twenty-first century the moral high hats in various states and cities had outlawed most forms of professional sports as exploitation of the poor. The desert state had seen a chance for profit and become the stadium to the nation. Paradoxically, the holy-than-thou committees could ban public exhibitions in their states, but they could not stop the growth of satellite networks carrying Nevada broadcasts to the world.

The incredible wealth brought to the thinly populated state guaranteed that no federal law would intervene. Bribery and blackmail were the political tools of choice for the state's representatives in Washington. The legalization of drugs in 2122 had caused a stir, but a Supreme Court decision said that the citizens of Nevada had clearly expressed their will in a number of referenda and that a long history of differing with the moral norms accepted in the rest of the country had been established. Some bettors scored big on the surprise decision because they had had the inside information involving certain of the justices' and their family members' financial situations, sexual practices and drug habits. Now, the sin merchants were supporting their favorite promoter's proposal for the Nevada Dueling and Grudge Fight Act.

The Governor asked, "Dueling has been outlawed for centuries. I can't see how you can bring back the Eighteenth Century."

Jeffery Nassie, the would-be promoter, responded, "This will not lead to shootings at dawn. The law only applies to broadcast events. That means that not only do the duelists have to volunteer, but that we must find them interesting enough to sell pay-per-view slots. The law is purely to provide protection to the participants and promoters of the broadcast. The general public will never be involved."

Anne Archer, his beautiful marketing head, continued, "Perhaps you should review our proposed teaser on the commercial networks."

The Governor nodded. He was happy to agree with the statuesque blonde. Archer was one of Nassie's chief weapons. She was rumored to be a master of every known sexual technique. In fact, there were stories that she took on four other women in a sexual olympics contest in a private showroom in a Vegas Casino and won all nine of the events, including an endurance test involving a hundred men a piece. Archer went to the control console and started the show. The commercial started with blaring triumphal music and flashed to scenes of two famous dancers.

Sophia Giannini was a legend at thirty-five. Prima ballerina since the age of sixteen, she was Italy's most famous export to the world. Her long-legged beauty had graced every legitimate stage in the world. Her fearsome, muscular style of dance combined with a non-traditional voluptuousness had made the dark beauty the mistress of actors, sportsmen and women, millionaires, sheiks, presidents and premiers. Her fiery, sexual battle of wills with a famous female tennis star had added to her allure and reputation for sexual conquest. Sophia was the goddess on the throne of culture and sex.

The would-be usurper was an upstart golden blonde, twenty-two year old, ex-Vegas dancer, named Katy Peel. Peel had started dancing as a stripper at the age of fourteen. Discovered by a high roller, she was elevated to the level of show girl, then featured dancer. By nineteen she was Hollywood's favorite dancer in the midst of the production show revival. Her style was wild, sexual, revolutionary and totally unconventional. She switched through the various styles of dance with an almost instinctual affinity for each one. At the invitation of an admiring ballet director she had even taken on that demanding art. After stunning her detractors with a masterful performance she became the talk of the legitimate dance world.

Sophia Giannini had ignored the barbarian. The next scene showed her responding to a question, "Katy Peel, no I have not heard of Katy Peel. Is that some kind of new fruit juice?"

Katy Peel had replied in another interview, "Sophia is an inspiration for us all. Even at her age she manages to keep dancing. I admire her courage. I couldn't show my legs in public if they were that fat."

The press rushed to show Katy's interview to Sophia. Sophia responded by lifting her skirts and flexing her still powerful leg muscles. She asked, "Fat? No, I don't think so. Perhaps she has me confused with some lady mud wrestler she might have met during her past career."

Thus began an escalating series of scenes.

Katy: "Sophia was a mud wrestler? I'm shocked! I wouldn't have thought the old girl would have the courage. Of course, maybe when she was younger she was braver. Really, I don't mean to be critical, but she is getting on. Perhaps someone should encourage her to retire gracefully, before she so embarrasses herself that all her past greatness is forgotten. She is such a legend. I'd hate to see her become a laughing stock."

Sophia: "No. I'm not surprised by what that little guttersnipe says. Believe me, she's never met me. If she had she would still be in traction.

Katy: "Mighty big talk for a fat old broad."

Sophia: "I'd be happy to let her see just how old and fat my legs are. I'll crush her until she bursts. I'll squeeze the life out of the little whore."

Katy: "I'm ready any time, Miss Piggy is!"

Sophia: "If it's a fight she wants, then let's have it on stage with cameras so everyone can see her scream for mercy. Let's sell tickets. I'll contribute my share to the poor. She can use her share to cover her medical bills."

The scene changed to the logo of Nassie's proposed company: NEVADA GRUDGE FIGHTS, INCORPORATED. The announcer promoted, "On July 4, 2111 see the bitter personal grudge between these two world renowned beauties come to a cruel end at the Millenium Hotel and Casino in the fight capital of the world, Las Vegas. They are said to have the strongest legs in the history of ballet. Only one can be the strongest! Only one will leave with her pride. Maybe only one will leave! They will match their legs in a specially designed grudge fight." As the promo ended Anne Archer said, "We have contacted both women and they have agreed to the terms of our Battle of the Dancers."

"And what are those terms?" the Governor asked.

Anne Archer touched her control panel and the screen showed two healthy dancers, one blonde and one dark. Except for colors, soft pink for the blonde and light green for the black-haired girl, they were dressed identically. Starting at the top each dancer had her hair tied back by leather thongs into high flying pony tails. Next came a headband of leather studded with rounded metal bolts. They wore stiff, metal barbed neck collars to prevent easy strangulation or deadly neck wounds. Their bodies were covered by tissue thin leotards. The erect nipples, the folds of their sex and the swells of their breasts were clearly exposed. The effect was more erotic than pure nudity could have been. The dancers' hands and forearms were trapped within rigid gloves. Their hands were formed into fists and their wrists were inflexible. The striking surface of the fist was a flat surface of hard rubber. The hands and forearms looked like table legs and appeared to just as useless. Gleaming parallel circles of metal barbs stood out a full half-inch from three inch wide thigh bands. The stretch band seemed to be extraordinarily tight. The knees were similarly equipped. A pair of similarly barbed stretch leggings extended from a couple of inches below the knee to the top of the ankle. The feet were bare.

Anne Archer said, "All holds and blows are permitted, including biting. The gloves restrict the use of the hands and arms in wrestling. However, they do permit punching and holding. We believe that they will be particularly useful in positioning an opponent for leg scissors. The legs are the bone of contention between the ladies, and we thought that they should be emphasized. You see that the leg barbs are placed so that any scissors is likely to be both painful and bloody. Once a scissors hold is locked on it will be difficult to break without the use of their hands. We left the feet bare to reduce the effectiveness of kicking.

"The fight will consist of an unlimited number of ten minute rounds with three minute breaks between rounds for rest. No treatment other than water will be permitted. There are no submissions or knockouts. As soon as a woman gets an advantage she can torture the other for the rest of the round. The fight ends when one woman refuses to come out for the next round after her three minute break or dies in the ring. They have agreed that the loser's hair is to be shaved and surrendered to the winner in full view of the public. Further, the loser, as soon as she is able, is to spend six months stripping at the Golden Club. We have agreed to make a contribution of one million NEW dollars to each of the fighters favorite charities. Both have signed attorney-proofed releases."

"What do you need from me?" asked the Governor.

Nassie answered, "We need the law setting up the regulations and rules of Grudge Fights. These types of fights could result in death. The Feds have outlawed prize fights where death is reasonably likely. State and Federal law prohibits fighting by individuals. We can't do anything about the Feds. So we create a new kind of regulated fighting sport, but we insure there is no prize in the contests. They are grudge fights, not prize fights. Of course, the contestants themselves may have financial or personal issues to resolve. Also, they deserve a share of the broadcast rights. As long as it is an equal share there is no prize. We need state law on the subject and we can fight the Feds, if necessary, in the courts. We need legal authorization to arrange for hospital and medical care. We need legal protection against lawsuits by the combatants or interested parties after the fact. And, of course, we need the commission to insure the betting public that the fights are honest. The betting and viewing public must be assured that the fights are real and entirely genuine."

The one thing that the gambling state insisted on was honesty in all sporting contests. If the betting public ever lost faith in the straightness of the contests they supported the game would be up for everyone. In the state where everybody had a price, you could get the death penalty for fixing a sporting contest. And, if the state didn't get you the gambling interests or the gamblers would. Many a would be fixer ended up fertilizing cactus in the Nevada desert. Nevada was wide open and justice was quick and certain.

"What other types of outrages are you planning to perpetrate?" the Governor asked warily. He at least wanted to seem doubtful.

Anne Archer replied, "The undercard for the first broadcast will include a brass knuckles fight between a mother and a daughter over who has to leave home, a breast squeeze-off between two aging giant-boobed strippers over club rights, a hopefully comical tar and feather match between an insurance agent and an angry housewife and a all-in group fight between white and black cheer-leaders from a junior college, losers to leave college.

"Next month we plan to have the women from two multiple marriage Mormon clans fight it out over disputed land. Their husbands and a number of sons have killed each other. The authorities tossed the rest into jail. We're working out the legal arrangements to have all the women over sixteen belonging to the clans to fight it out with bats, chains and brass knuckles. We are working on getting a couple of society dames for the celebrity match. The rest of the card will materialize after the broadcast."

Nassie continued, "Our broadcast plan is to present a number of individual fights leading up to a group fight and a celebrity event. At least one of the undercard matches should have an element of humor in it. We don't want blood spilling all night long. We will need a comedy break somewhere into the card."

"All women?" asked the Governor.

Nassie replied, "The law will be sex neutral, but we plan to specialize in women. Everybody knows there is a lot of interest in fighting women, but the women professionals have never really gotten off the ground. Prize fights will always tend to favor the males because the audience still doesn't take professional women fighters seriously. However, add some showmanship, add some spice, make the fight bloody, dirty and personal and it will be like selling lemonade in the desert at noon. I believe when it comes to amateurs the tables are turned. I don't think people will pay to watch two unskilled males batter each other senseless over a personal grudge when they can go down to the corner bar and see the same for free. People will go wild over grudge fights between women. We plan a three hour broadcast every month to start. If the shows pay off and the women are available we will go to twice a month and then weekly."

After thinking it over the Governor said, "Well, if you can push it through the legislature I'll sign it, but don't ask me to carry your water. This is going to give the moral do-gooders in the rest of the country absolute fits."

* * * * * * * * *


Nassie's call reached Katy Peel first. She expressed her pleasure and told him to have his people contact her people with the details. Nassie was stunned by her matter-of-fact approach and wondered if she was taking the grudge fight seriously. He did not need to worry. Her cold calm approach was indicative of her glacial fury. Emotionally, she was as ready for this fight as she could be.

Physically, she was well on the way. She was already in training. Of course her body was in excellent shape. The long, muscular blonde was totally at home as a physical being. Her legs were the tools of her trade. They were flexible, strong and had rock hard muscles that could endure incredible strains for hours without respite. Her stomach was hard and ripped with muscles. From behind her back looked like a young male body builders'. Her arms were hard, but feminine. Even her large breasts were rock-like. She had always worked them to keep them high and hard. Even as a stripper they would have gotten in the way of her athletic dance style if they had been soft and floppy. Now she could leap through the air and come down in her male partner's arms with little or no jiggle. Anything else would have been unacceptable to her or the critics. Combined with her youth, her strenuous life-long exercise and training regimen had produced a perfectly toned female specimen. Now of course she had to become a fighter.

As soon as Nassie had broached the possibility she had started negotiations to insure the terms were appropriate. Once the terms were agreed she brought in a team of trainers: kick boxing, wrestling, boxing, and a Marine hand-to-hand combat instructor. Given what was planned she figured that the kick boxing would be the most critical skill in the early stages. Boxing would be useful adjunct to kick boxing.

Wrestling would be critical once they were on the ground, but the lack of hands and wrists would limit the number of moves. The hand-to-hand combat instructor was the director of training. She worked to modify everyone's expertise to take into account the special equipment.

Kicking should concentrate on knee and shin strikes. The barbs would add to the effectiveness of strikes from those areas. Of course a heel to the stomach or a side foot to the face would always be effective.

Boxing would concentrate on the face at first for offensive and defensive reasons. Offensive reasons included closing eyes, inflicting pain and stunning the opponent. As there was no count, a knockdown would give the standing woman incredible advantages with kicking and knee drops being the obvious means of capitalizing on the enemy's condition. Defensively, the hard rubber fists would keep the other woman at bay and punish her for excessive kicking.

Once they were locked up on the ground a well placed fist might be the only way to escape a scissors attack. Wrestling concentrated on escapes first. Techniques with elbows, headbutts and fists were combined with spins and throws. Then came the ground wrestling aimed at putting the other woman between her legs.

The offensive weapon of choice of course was the leg. Once on the ground a scissors across the breasts, on the ribs or around the waist could crush the fight out of an opponent. Scissors to the head and neck would maim and possibly kill. To get the maximum effect out of the barbs, Katy was trained to jiggle her legs and slide her scissors back and forth. Finally, the usefulness of a grinding knee to the face, breast, stomach and crotch were studied. It would be dirty and she would be ready.

Working with armored sparring partners helped her develop her fighting reflexes in each possible situation without hurting herself or anyone else to badly. She had to use padded dummies for strength moves with her scissors attack. She was ripping through the leather coverings and pulling out the stuffing before the end of the first day of equipped training.

The instructors pushed her ten hours a day. Her natural talents quickly adapted her body to the fighting rhythms. In a way it was a new style of dance. She imagined performing it with her chosen partner during the day and dreamed it during the night. She ate heavily as instructed and actually put on a few pounds of muscle and flesh. She allowed them to shock her again and again to simulate pain. They couldn't risk real wounds that might not heal before the fight. Eventually, it was her job to turn the power dial and push the button herself. Inflicting pain on herself was just another way to toughen her mind to what was coming. As she had all her life, she became totally devoted to the new dance.

* * * * * * * * *

Nassie's call to Sophia found her in France. She was training with a group of French kickboxers. She quickly added a judo expert to her team. After studying the equipment he convinced her to dispense with the kick boxing and bring on a weapons specialist.

She concentrated on floor work with the judo expert. The fight would be won by the legs and she intended to be the one clamping the scissors down. He spent two weeks teaching movement and reaction to her. She learned to dance on her elbows, knees, heels, fists and even her head. Movement! Avoid! Twist and turn. Under, over around and strike! She learned to turn her opponent's attacks into opportunities to counter with devastating suddenness. Then he moved to resting and conserving her energy during the fight. She learned to lie on her opponent, to frustrate attacks with a minimum of effort and to conserve herself for lightning attacks when her opponent was weakened or over committed. Finally he added punishment to the training. Grinding with her knees, punching with her rubber fists, jabbing with her elbows, striking with her head and her knees were all parts of a single plan to totally crush her youthful enemy. Avoid, tire and then destroy without mercy!

The weapons specialist redesigned the kick boxing techniques she had learned. Kicking with a bare foot to an armored leg was a sure way to cripple yourself. She learned to slash out with her knees and shins. Her kicks went to the waist, shoulders, head, arms, kidneys, stomach and breasts. Attacks to the groin were practiced, but they were only to be used in sure strike situations. The key for the older woman was to conserve herself and then punish the youthful aggressor. He added hand and head techniques to the kicking. Then he too went to the floor work and added to the judo instructor's leg attack techniques. By the end of the training she was ripping the leather skin off her kicking bags with every knee and sidekick.

Her final trainer was herself. Her hatred for the young blonde grew past reason and turned into something like a hellfire within her. Every bag she struck looked like Peel's face, breast or cunt. She tasted Peel's blood in her sleep. Sophia dreamed of ruining the young woman's body past the point that the reconstruction specialists could do anything but prolong her agony. When her instructors used acupuncture needles to inflict horrific pain on her she saw Peel standing there holding the needles. After enduring that agony she knew she could withstand anything to get even with the blonde.


* * * * * * * * *

The promotion had caught the attention of the information conglomerates. The rivalry between the two famous dancers and the challenge captured the public's imagination. Nassie's original investment, including operating costs, bribes and start-up costs, had mounted to sixty-seven million NEW dollars of which he expected to recover no more than ten million gross on this fight. If the concept was successful he expected future operating profits to hit the five million per broadcast mark with each pay-per-view broadcast plus another one million from rebroadcasts and finally two million from the sale of video rights. In eight months he would be in the green. With the help of free hype, early pay-per-view sales showed that the event would surpass all but the major team sport championships and the last heavyweight boxing championship. He was looking at a forty million New dollars in pre-sales alone. A natural worrier, Nassie was now afraid that the fight might not live up to the interest. He could be blown out of the water by a dull showing and still several million in the red.

Anne Archer watched her boss turn green as the crowds began to fill the stadium and the satellite feeds opened. He always got sick on opening night. The promotions they had put on at the Millenium had made them both rich, but she had always been left alone in the booth. Nassie spent each evening in the toilet sick beyond all help. He was performing true to form.

The Ring Master finally took the spotlight and entered the circular fighting arena. Tonight the bottom ring rope was connected to the clear rubber flooring and the second ring rope by a thin, transparent web. No one would be rolling out of the ring by accident or on purpose. That famous smile flashed and signaled the viewing public that the spectacle was about to begin.

"Ladies and gentlemen," he called in his famous baritone.

Nassie grabbed his mouth and ran for the bathroom. Anne Archer chuckled and turned her attention to the multiple screens in her viewing box. They had twenty cameras tracking the ring from all sides, from above and below. The Ring Master's well practised introduction continued apace. The national anthem was played. Sports legends and cinema stars were recognized. The ring side doctors and judges were identified. The members of the Grudge Fight Commission were announced. Most were readily recognized. They traded on their honesty and diligence. They were trusted. No commissioner had flunked his weekly chemical and bioelectric interrogation since the infamous Janson case. Janson and his entire family had been found three days later impaled on road markers just outside the city. The sounds of the crowd grew. Anne was surprised that over twenty thousand had filled the stands.

Now she grew nervous. A bad first event would start them booing and little would please them after that. She cursed herself for starting with the mother-daughter brass knuckle fight. The breast squeeze-off would have been better for a crowd with this number of males in it. Well, it was too late to worry now. It didn't have to be great, but it did have to avoid being bad.

She cringed as the short, thin daughter came out to trade punches with her short, fat mother. They were fighting in rope belted jeans cut off at the calf in the idealist style of the bare-fisted boxers of early centuries. The fat woman got a few hoots. The announcer had been careful to build up the desperate nature of the blood fight between the two women and that held the audience.

Then the first blows hit. Anne was terrified that the fight would be one punch, followed by a tearful collapse. When the first round ended with both women bleeding from the eyebrows, noses and mouths she knew they were on the way to a good night. Eight rounds latter the mother fell for the fifth time and was unable to beat the thirty second count. The daughter raised her one good arm and took the cheers of the wild mob. Her other arm and three ribs were broken. One of her nipples had split and both breasts were dripping. Her stomach was blue with bruises and her face was a bloated red mask. Still, she had won. Anne was delirious. They had a hit on their hands.

The big boobed strippers added to the crowds' pleasure. They mauled each other bloody for thirty minutes. The loser lost a nipple in her last stand, but the winner would not be shaking her boobs in victory for several months. The tar-and-feather fight was perfectly placed. The two middle aged women chased each other around the ring wearing business clothes. Their weapons were heavy thick mops dipped in hot, sticky tar. The ring had been covered in slippery, teflon plastics so the women kept falling down. Bit by bit they tarred one another until the insurance agent managed to knock the housewife senseless with her mop handle. The insurance agent retrieved the bucket of feathers from its perch on a greased pole and covered the plaintiff with a thick coat of white feathers. The crowd guffawed and applauded. The bloodlust was cooled and they remembered what a good time they were having.

The crowd buzzed with excitement as the twelve cheer-leaders faced off, six black against six white. They were dressed in generic cheer-leading outfits. The object of the fight was to strip the other side naked and then hog-tie them with leather straps. The losers had agreed to leave school. Betting had been heavy on the black girls by bettors of all races.

The battle was furious. The white girls fought hard and surprised the crowd. Clothes started ripping along with faces and bodies. Hair flew around the ring. A full scale twelve girl catfight filled the camera lenses and delighted the crowd. At the four minute mark the first breast was bared. At the ten minute mark one white girl was nude, three others were stripped to the waist, one had only her socks and shoes, one still had on her socks and skirt, and the sixth still had a portion of her sweater on as well as her shoes, socks and skirt. Three black girls were without tops, one was topless and missing her shoes and one sock, two still retained portions of all their clothes. At the twenty minute mark two white girls were nude and tied. One black girl had a broken leg and was out of the fight. Three minutes later the white girls were in desperate straits, all were nude. The black girls started punishing them until those still free were helpless to resist the straps. At the twenty-seven minutes and twenty-two seconds the judges declared the black girls as winners. The bloody, mostly nude black girls celebrated by spitting on their defeated rivals and raising their hands in victory.

The roaring crowd settled back for the celebrity battle. The ring attendants mopped down the ring surface and then dried it. A local band played in the middle of a hundred gyrating dancers. The crowd relaxed again. Drinks, drugs and food flowed through the stands. Anne checked the pay-per-view sales. They had just hit the forty-seven million mark! Nassie had scored again. A big finish and a good card for the next match would take them into the black and a new sport would be born.

* * * * * * * * *

Sophia checked out her primary moves. She was already covered in a fine mist of sweat. The rules prevented her oiling her body or spreading grease on her face to stop cuts. Nothing could prevent her from working up a good slick sweat. Her tight green leotard quickly colored as sweat circles spread from her underarms, crotch, shoulders and breasts. A five minute workout left her sopping wet, warm and ready for the fight. Her stomach was twisted with fear and anticipation. She wanted to tear the upstart slut to pieces, but she understood that the other woman had similar plans.

Would she win? Sophia's doubts raced back to the front of her mind. She had so much to lose. Why had she let the young bitch get under her skin? She could have ignored the entire nonsense! She had everything. She could retire as the most famous dancer of her time. Wouldn't that have been enough? Something inside would not allow her to surrender the stage just yet. She refused to allow the upstart to turn her out ahead of her time.

Katy Peel watched her beautiful body flow through her own exercises in a full length mirror. She always practiced her dance in front of mirrors. Her mind's eye was her worst critic and most helpful coach. She watched her body react to the new requirements of this new deadly dance. She imagined the dark Italian's face and body and soon saw Sophia dancing with her. Kicks hit. Fists flew. Knees struck. Sophia struck her again and again, but as the dance progressed the Italian was left bloody and helpless.

Satisfied with her imaginary battle the beautiful blonde spun in a frenzy toward her own joyful climax. She often came during the course of a challenging piece. This might be her most challenging dance ever, but she doubted she would climax in the ring. Still, this one was enough to take the edge off her anxiety and helped her find a center of calmness. Once there her youthful feeling of invincibility and inevitability came to the fore.

Finally the lights flashed in the individual rooms and their trainers joined them for the walk to the arena. Neither trainer would be allowed at ringside. Two showgirls would spray water in their mouths and on their wounds during the rest periods. Otherwise, they were completely on their own once the opening round started until one croaked out her surrender or just plain croaked.

Sophia gasped as she left the tunnel and proceeded through the roaring crowd. Her career had gained her fanatic applause and wild cheers, but she had never felt this animal energy that only a wild mob of humans could deliver. It scared her and thrilled her. Blood roared through in her ears. For a second she felt faint and then the adrenalin kicked in. Fear was forged by determination into cold fury. The Italian trotted through the many-voiced creature under a tracking light that followed her to the brilliantly lighted circular ring.

Katy's energy soared as the crowd fed her. She was used to the adoration of crowds of hot, sexually-tensed men. Long ago she had learned to channel that energy into her own muscles. She came alive as never before. Her body trembled once and then the calming pleasure of a second orgasm surged through her. The energy was still there, but now she was in control of it rather than the other way around. Katy Peel did a couple of dance steps guaranteed to rock the house as she emerged into the open area around the ring. The male energy flowed from the crowd into her.

Anne Archer felt herself heating up. The entire fantastic scene was working on her at some new level. She enjoyed watching a good fight and had been in a couple herself when she was young, but this was new. She rubbed her thighs together and squeezed herself in those secret ways she discovered as a teenager waiting for boys to discover her. Her business mind went to work just as Nassie stumbled out of his sick room.

Anne said, "We got a hit as long as this fight is good and bloody. I figure we need three rounds to build our reputation."

Nassie, "How are we doing with sales?"

Anne replied, "Approaching forty-eight NEW."

Nassie worried, "Jesus, that's our entire potential. What if this fight is a blow-out. It'll kill the market. Oh God! I feel sick."

As Nassie stumbled away Anne said, "We need to look into transmitting the emotions and pain of these fights. Imagine the thrill of experiencing this spectacle from the perspective of the fighters without the scars and broken bones. The ultimate in viewer participation."

Nassie's ears pricked up. He said, "You've got an idea."

Anne smiled to herself and said, "Of course, it will cost several hundred million NEWS to set up and it might not work. But, it all depends on this fight."

Nassie made choking sounds and ran for his fortress of solitude.

Sophia looked across the clear circular floor toward her pink suited blonde rival. The hate welled up. Katy opened her mouth and made suggestive motions with her tongue. The Italian twisted her arms in the ropes and held herself back. The blonde started mouthing curses at her. The roar of the crowd was such that the blonde could not be heard. Sophia's Italian temper flared and she started returning the curses and promises. Two giant leather-armored men stood in the ring ready to separate them when necessary. Other than that they had no purpose and would jump to the floor as soon as the bell rang. When the round ended they would return and separate the fighters if necessary.

The electronic bell rang and the crowd roared. Sophia moved forward on her toes ready for any sudden attack. The blonde did not disappoint her. Katy sprang forward and leapt into the air. As she soared past the Italian her right leg snapped out with a shin blow to the Italian's face. Sophia stepped to the side in time. She turned to attack, but the blonde was already circling away smiling.

Katy had wanted to take a big opening shot. If it worked she would finish the fight quickly, if not she would probably escape with only a damaged ego. Instead the crowd roared at her soaring attack. It had failed, but it certainty looked good. Keeping her eyes on the glaring Italian she bowed to the crowd. They roared their approval and she went back to smiling at her enemy.

As they closed, Sophia yelled, "Try that again and I'll ram my fist up your cunt!"

Katy replied, "Ooh! That sounds fun. Tell you what, I'll let you know how that feels if you let me know how it feels when I put my knee up yours."

Sophia jabbed. Katy blocked and kicked to the waist. Her foot bounced off Sophia's tight body. Sophia jabbed quickly and forced the blonde to concentrate on blocking and dodging. The Italian scored with a front kick to the stomach. Katy's pink leotard bounced back with little more than a grunt from the hard muscled blonde. Katy scored with the first punch to the head. Sophia moaned and backed away feeling real pain for the first time. The blonde drove forward and speared her in the belly with a lunging front kick. Sophia grunted and let the force drive her back. She set herself, blocked the following kick and smacked the blonde in the mouth with three rights in a row.

Katy blocked the fourth punch, turned on her left foot and sidekicked into Sophia's green-covered belly. The blonde's shin barbs made their first connection. Sophia gasped and grabbed for the leg. The blonde barely escaped. The Italian scored with a hard right to the side of the face and Katy withdrew. Sophia looked down and saw the fabric over her navel had been torn and was spotted with red. She had been punctured. The bitch had used her own strategy against her. The blow settled Sophia down.

Katy suddenly flew forward. She soared again. This time Sophia leapt as well. The two dancers flew together as though there was no gravity. Both legs lashed out. Sophia's barbs ripped open the pink leotard from just above the crotch to the side. Katy's barbs went under Sophia's kick and scored the Italian's leg and buttock. More importantly, Katy fell off balance and landed on her side. Sophia jumped for the fallen woman. Katy managed to avoid being captured by the Italian's seeking arms, but Sophia had trained her body to respond instantly with a floor kick that took the scrambling blonde in the middle of the back.

Katy rolled forward into the ropes. Sophia was up and charging, but the blonde was ready with an impossible kick from one knee. Her bare foot caught the Italian perfectly, sinking into the little green bulge of her lips. Sophia was speared on the blonde's toes. The impact lifted the Italian off her feet and drove the blonde onto her back. Sophia bounced into the ropes and threatened to go over the top. She bounced back into the ring still squealing from the shock of violation. Unfortunately, Katy's foot had withdrawn from her. Both the blonde's knees met her as she fell.

Sophia grunted as the hard knees drove into her stomach. The barbs cut her, but her muscle shield held. She found herself rolling toward the center of the ring trying to escape the blonde's legs. Katy's body landed on her as she slowed to rise to a knee. A hard rubber fist pounded the back of her neck as a forearm twisted under her right arm and pressed against her neck. She drove her elbows back and connected with yielding tissue. The blonde's grunt told her she had struck well and so she drove back again. The blonde grunted again and then pulled her backwards.

Sophia's brain screamed. In another second the blonde would have her in a reverse scissors and choking headlock. Sophia plunged backwards in the direction of the blonde's pulling. They flew backwards and practically somersaulted. Sophia kicked wildly and felt her foot connect with something soft. She looked and saw Katy hugging her right breast and retreating on one knee. Sophia withdrew and allowed the blonde to do the same.

Both women circled. They were happy to have escaped serious situations. Both were bloody and bruised, but not seriously damaged. Still, the possibilities of serious damage had been faced by both. They sucked in air and boxed and kicked at only a bruising range. The crowd was still roaring its approval from the surprisingly fast and immensely entertaining action. The mob allowed them to rest out the remainder of the round.

The rest period allowed them to regain their wind and reflect. The water refreshed them, but the showgirls did nothing else to ease them. Their hands were useless for that purpose. Katy gained some relief by rubbing her bruised breast with her hard-rubbered forearm. Sophia resolved to follow her plan and go on the defensive until the young blonde tired herself or made another mistake.
Katy came out punching and kicking. Sophia defended and countered. Both women surprised the audience with their fluid expertise. They blocked and slipped more punches than either connected, but Katy drove Sophia around the ring scoring more heavily. Both women's sides and waist lines were soon dotted by bloody punctures. Their leotards started to shred as the barbs punctured and cut the thin coverings. Faces reddened as did the upper arms.

Katy continued to press a kick boxing style attack. Sophia continued to retreat and counter. Katy pressed forward and finally got her knee into play. They tied up against the ropes and started kneeing up into the sides of each other's hips. The knee barbs did their wicked work and soon both women's hips were scratched and cut. Sophia twisted away, encircled Katy's head, pulled the blonde forward and threw her over her hip. Katy cursed as she landed.

She kicked back into Sophia's face and stopped the Italian from falling on her. Katy rolled and avoided three stomps and a kick. Sophia jumped in the direction of Katy's retreat and landed on the desperate blonde. After a blur of legs and arms Sophia clamped her legs around the blonde's small waist. Katy twisted and brought her fists into action against the Italian's breasts and face. Sophia blocked and punched back as she crushed at the blonde's waist. The blonde groaned and fought back desperately.

Katy opened up a cut on Sophia's right cheek with her repeated blows. Katy's nose was bloodied in retaliation. The Italian's lips were busted open. Katy's desperation grew and Sophia's scissors eventually forced the blonde to punch uselessly at the darker woman's thighs. Sophia grabbed for the flailing arms and succeeded in bear hugging the younger woman's biceps.

Now the torture began. Sophia's bloody lips twisted in a smile as she clamped, jiggled and reclamped her steel-like legs. Katy's head jerked back and forth helplessly. She wiggled. She kicked and twisted. Sophia held on and spurred the blonde's body with her half-inch barbs. The hold was strong, but the angle and Katy's strength prevented the Italian from crushing her out of the fight. The torture continued as the blonde thrashed around in a useless circle.

Finally the bell rang. Sophia opened her legs, pushed the gasping blonde to the side and slid away. Katy rolled to her hands and knees and gasped for air. Her stomach, waist and lower back was as shredded as the thin once pink, now dark red leotard. The older woman had inflicted the first serious damage and clearly taken the second round.

Anne Archer clamped her own legs tight and imagined with pleasure torturing another woman into surrender. Then she imagined with more terror and perhaps more pleasure the same thing being done to her. Her new idea was quickly becoming a new obsession. What did it feel like?

Katy Peel leaned back stretching her stomach muscles. The lower half of her leotard was blood-soaked and shredded. She had to assume her skin was equally ragged; it felt like it. The fire on her skin was one thing, the agony inside her stomach was another. She had to keep from cramping. The burning pain of her punctured and ripped flesh was nothing compared to her anger at being caught and tortured by the Italian bitch. The bitch's legs were like steel bands. If they had been differently positioned she might be nursing broken ribs. She blanched at the thought of a similar scissors hold across the breasts or on her face. The bloody blonde resolved to treat her hated rival to a taste of metal.

Sophia recovered slowly. Her legs had been trembling near the end of the round. She had poured ever ounce of energy into the scissors hold and the blonde had survived. The angle had been wrong, but she had gotten results. She looked at the blonde's bloodstained leotard and knew she had scored heavily. Now she had to protect herself and wait for another shot at the blonde. Despite being bloodied herself she had gotten away easy. She was afraid that her luck might not hold unless she finished off the upstart quickly.

The bell rang and Katy Peel charged forward kicking and punching. Sophia fought defensively as before. The blonde's attack was not entirely frustrated. She had the black-haired woman staggering more than once. Sophia's nose opened. Then her already split and swollen lips seem to burst. Sophia's counter punches finally reopened Katy's nose and forced her to back off. Katy's kicks were also more effective. Her foot and heel did a number on the Italian's stomach and waist. The young blonde even connected with a head kick. With sweat and blood flying at the five minute mark, Katy finally forced Sophia back into the ropes.

Sophia flinched as her back rubbed the ropes. She started to move aside, but the blonde lunged forward risking everything on a high knee strike. The knee smashed into the underside of the Italian's right breast. Sophia grunted as the impact emptied her lungs. The force threw the Italian back into the ropes. Katy slapped her arms behind the Italian's head and drove her knee deeper. The force of gravity combined with the rebound off the rope and Katy's downward stroke pulled her knee barbs down Sophia's body ripping flesh and the green leotard. Sophia regained enough oxygen to scream. Her arms struck up and pushed out throwing the blonde off. Katy stumbled backward to the center of the ring before regaining her balance. The blonde stood there sucking in air and waiting for the Italian to counter-attack. Sophia looked down at her bare bloody skin and torn leotard with a stunned silence. She had been ripped from the bottom of her breast down to the swell of her lower belly. Her amazed inaction continued until the equally stunned crowd roared its approval. The roar seemed to bring Sophia back to reality. She screamed in fury and charged.

The following mel?e lasted only thirty seconds before the wild swinging and kicking pair were on the mat scrambling for advantage. The flying legs and arms were impossible to follow. Suddenly the battle froze with the two sets of legs locked firmly together. On their sides they punched at each other's body with their free arms. Katy remembered her head band and butted Sophia's over her eyebrow. A second butt split open the Italian's forehead. Sophia punched with her free hand and stopped Katy's head in mid-strike. The Italian retaliated with her own headbutt to the blonde's nose. Katy struck with her fist. Now both women were locked fist to head, body to body and leg to leg. Other than cursing and grinding they did little before the ring attendants forced them apart.

Sophia cursed. Her right breast was exposed and bleeding. Her club hands were useless. She couldn't ease herself or even pull her torn leotard back into place. Her breast and stomach ached, but her eyes were her biggest worries. She was having trouble keeping the blood out of her eyes and she knew her face was swelling badly. Her body ached from the kicks and punches. Her thighs were bleeding from the mutual leg locks. She couldn't keep fighting defensively. The blonde bitch seemed to be a tireless punching and kicking machine.

Katy gasped for oxygen. She had been fighting at full speed for thirty minutes and she was about to drop. She couldn't understand how the Italian had the energy to keep on counter-attacking. At least Sophia had taken the worst of it in the last round. Katy surveyed her hurts. Her nose might have been broken. It was certainly bleeding and swelling. She knew she her lips were split and she was badly hurt under her right eye. Her breasts had taken some full punches and they were beginning to throb. Her stomach stung from the effects of her own salty sweat. Katy decided to push on and try to force the Italian over her limit. If it didn't work, then she might find herself beyond her own limit.

Anne Archer studied the various camera angles as they slugged away in the center of the ring at the beginning of round four. She noted that the under the ring view was being colored and distorted as their feet smeared the fine mist of blood and sweat back and forth. The close-ups on the faces registered brutal impacts from the hard rubber gloves. The side cameras showed the best leg work. The overheads produced the best study of techniques. Anne promised to add slow motion replays to the video production. Anne almost missed the best blow of the round. She was just about to look away from an under the floor shot when Katy Peel connected with the first knee to the crotch. Ninety percent of the crowd missed the blow, but the rest roared.

Sophia jumped back and blocked the blonde's front kick with her right arm. Katy allowed herself to be turned by the block. She spun and caught the Italian with a perfect backfist. The black ponytail snapped and the Italian staggered into the ropes. Katy lunged forward and drove a knee into the stunned woman's back. She repeated her downward rip and tore open another gash in the dark skin and green leotard. Sophia cried out and slashed back with an elbow. The blow connected with the blonde's eye. Katy slide backwards along the rope pawing at her right eye. Sophia shook her head and turned to the attack.

The Italian held the rope with her left hand and slammed a full-blooded kick with her shin into the blonde's waist. She pulled back and ripped open the leotard where it had been weakened before. Katy squealed and snapped out with her left fist to Sophia's right eye. The blow snapped the Italian's head back again. The blonde kneed into the Italian's stomach. Sophia caught the knee. They wobbled for a moment and then crashed into the mat.

Katy came down with her knee on Sophia's mound. The crowd roared as the blonde ground her barbs into the screaming Italian's sex. Sophia punched and kicked desperately. Katy slipped forward and landed face first on the Italian's chest. Sophia's new screams and frantic punching indicated the blonde's teeth were at work. Yelling like a banshee, Sophia managed to roll Katy off. As the blonde slipped away she pulled a chunk of fabric away from Sophia's left breast exposing the second breast. Bright red marks showed the teeth had just broken the skin. Sophia's escape was not complete. She rolled into Katy's legs.

The blonde clamped a scissors around the lower part of Sophia's body and started to work. Sophia was on top. She butted her head into the blonde's chest and rammed her fists into the blonde's belly. Katy succeeded in tying up the Italian's arms, but Sophia retaliated by sinking her teeth into Katy's now vulnerable breasts. The blonde groaned, but worked her scissors hold. Sophia continued the unequal struggle until the bell rang.

Sophia stumbled to her corner practically nude. Her leotard held by a few strings, her arm holes and her leg holes. She had been spiked again and again. Even her crotch had been penetrated. Her face was a swollen bloody mess and she was hurting deep inside. The blonde's scissors hold had hurt something inside. The Italian was getting scared.

Katy blinked her right eye. It was swelling shut on her. Her bruised breasts were bleeding from at least five deep bites. Her leotard was practically a two piece. The Italian had taken some incredible punishment, but she just wouldn't stop fighting. The blonde was definitely worried.

Anne Archer was also worried. She watched them come out fighting for the fifth round. She already had enough footage for a typical two hour program. They were still running okay on the satellite time, but she was worried about the marketing costs of a two volume program tape. The two bitches looked like they would go on forever. Three more rounds and she would have no choice but to expand the tape to the more expensive two volume set.

Katy continued to pile up damage on Sophia. By the end of the fifth round the Italian was basically nude. Her stained green leotard covered her shoulders and her upper chest. The rest had either rolled up to the top or hung in shreds from the elastic leg holes. Her dark bush was exposed and bloody. The blonde's knees were doing a job on her lower body. The blonde's fists were pounding her breasts and face. Sophia was on the verge of collapse more than once. Sophia's response had been effective, but less dramatic. Katy was all but blind on the right side. Her lips were shredded and her nose was twisted and swollen two three times its size. Her breasts were partially exposed and bloody. Her leotard's waist was almost torn away. Still, the blonde was winning.

The sixth round was even until Katy's backfist stunned the Italian again. This time Sophia fell to her hands and knees. The blonde slapped a standing headlock on Sophia. Katy jumped up and slashed her shin barbs up and then down the sides of Sophia's head. Sophia lunged forward, risked breaking her neck and succeeded in taking the blonde off her feet. Unfortunately, Katy landed on her back and clamped a reverse scissors around Sophia's chest. The barbs on the sides of the blonde's legs punctured the Italian's breasts. Katy jiggled her legs
viciously, scissored them back and forth, squeezed, released and squeezed again. Sophia was totally helpless. She kicked and beat the canvas in agony, but there was no release before the bell. Sophia refused to surrender. She staggered out for the seventh round. The blonde came forward ready to finish the destruction of a legend. Suddenly the bloody dancer leapt forward. She seemed to soar across the ring. The blonde realized a moment too late what was coming. Sophia's right leg snapped out. The outside ridge of her foot struck the blonde square on the jaw. Katy spun in a circle and fell on her back. Sophia landed in the ropes and fell back on her head. Neither moved for at least a minute.

Katy rolled to her stomach and pressed herself up to her hands and knees. Sophia pulled herself up by the ropes and shook her head clear. The blonde coughed up blood and spit out broken pieces of her teeth. Sophia stumbled forward at the run and launched herself knee first into the rising blonde. The knees took the blonde in the breasts and slammed her back into the canvas. Sophia landed on top with her bloody stomach over the blonde's face and her knees still in the blonde's chest. Sophia ground her knees back and forth listening to the smothered squeals of her hated rival. Katy hugged the knees to her wounded breasts and eventually rolled Sophia over. Katy held the legs under her and suddenly the Italian was screaming. The enraged blonde had buried her face in Sophia's crotch. Sophia pounded the back of the blonde's head. Katy took the punches for at least three minutes before rolling away.

Sophia doubled up and screamed. The blonde tried to get to her feet, but the beating to the back of her head had stunned her. Katy eventually stood. Both her breasts were exposed and bleeding from a number of wicked gashes. Sophia's knees had ruined her. Sophia was crawling across the ring trailing blood. Her thighs were dripping red. The blonde had practically torn her fleshy labia off. She knew she had to escape.

Katy started stalking the crawling Italian. Sophia had just reached the rope when the blonde kicked her solidly in the ribs. The blow was followed by another and another until Sophia was knocked to her side. She drew up her legs for protection. Katy knee dropped on the downed woman's ribs. Her knees slid down Sophia's side, tearing flesh as they went, and left the blonde astride the fallen Italian. Katy started punching the side of the helpless woman's face until Sophia was out. The blonde stood and kicked at the fallen woman's body until she was on her back. The blonde knee-dropped to the breasts and used the ropes to hold her balance. She scrubbed her legs back and forth working her knees into the unconscious woman's breasts and using her shin barbs to skin the downed woman's stomach. The torture continued for thirty seconds and the bell rang. The attendants had to pull the victorious blonde away.

Sophia did not move for two minutes. She came to screaming. She twisted in agony and tried to cup her breasts with her rubber fists. The attendants pulled her to her feet and pushed her to her corner. They asked if she wanted to quit. Her blood-spurting body quaked with sobs. She shook her head negatively and then fell forward sobbing. The attendants asked again.

She finally screamed, "Yes. I can't fight any more. Not now! But this isn't over. I'll have my revenge!"

Katy raised her hands and smiled through her ruined lips. The young challenger had overthrown the legend! Blood poured out of her ravaged mouth. She had a fractured jaw and needed caps on eight teeth. Later that night she would take two hundred and twenty stitches to her breasts and body. Her plastic surgeon would require six separate operations to restore her beauty and remove her scars. Her shattered nose required four sessions by itself. Thankfully, the technology was there to fix what the wicked barbs and hard blows had done.

Anne Archer caught her breath. She had a perfect view from under the clear canvas of Sophia's ruined breasts. The spilling blood and lymph gradually blurred the camera, but she had the perfect shot on tape. Seventy minutes of fighting! She decided to go with two volumes and concentrate on the use of special angles and slow motion to add drama. They might have to reduce their margin, but a good product would just add to the marketing success they had already had. She and Nassie were well on the way to creating an entirely new sport, while reaping immense benefits from it. Her only problem was coming up with a card to at least rival tonight's.

Sophia was rushed to the hospital with three broken ribs, a punctured lung and a ruptured kidney. She almost died twice that night. Eventually medical miracles brought her back. Then the process of repair began in earnest. Sophia had to have her nipples regenerated. Her labia and related tissues were reconstructed with a new, less fleshy look. Her scars took more than a year to finally remove. She withdrew from the world while she healed and never watched an episode of the most successful import show in Europe, "The Nevada Grudge Fights."

[Ted Mark]

Is "cage" Mr Cage? [img]graemlins/devil.gif[/img]

[cage]

Yes...this is one of my old stories written for Ajax's story shoppe. There must be forty or fifty out there. At the time, Ajax was my editor and he really liked a detailed story to be built around the violence. And since he gave me credits per word to get the other stories on his board free I found ways to make my stories long and interesting to him...lol...

Damn I miss that guy. Talk about a source of information before the internet. I'm sure he had all the books you referenced and he had seen three of the four "Holy Relics" black and white 8mm silent films I only heard about but could never collect.