BPL 1.17: Strength Against Strength
Late February, The Year Before Everything Happened,
Kathy Liu and Abigail Summers stood in the cold midnight air of an indoor martial arts gym, sharing glances and comments. They'd successfully held the first 2 fights of the inaugural Beat, Prey, Love fight card, a series of sexy MMA fights contested entirely by female college students from the nearby California University at Los Angeles. All of the contestants, save one, had professed some kind of previous martial arts experience, and the two women left to fight in their 'Main event” both promised that they were the toughest woman Kathy knew.
Tonight, one of them would be proved wrong.
Abby Summers lacked any of the usual pep she brought to her streaming content: Sinnamon Sweet was sweet and alluring and innocent. The twentysomething black woman behind the onscreen character was markedly less so, especially around the woman she'd mentored as a content creator.
“So your friend... what's her name... “
“Flor.” Kathy interjected, leaning against a wall. Her willowy 5'10 frame was almost interrupted by the generous curves that helped make her a popular streamer..
“You think she's legit?” Skepticism marred Abby's voice but not her light brown eyes or friendly smile.
“I know she is. We've trained together. She's golden gloves level. Smart money's on her.” Kathy gushed. “You're not just saying that cause you two are fucking, right?” The older student asked.
The Chinese-French woman blushed, nearly red enough to hide her freckles. “Why would you... how would...” she shoved her hands in the pockets of her crop top track jacket.
“Don't bullshit a bullshitter, right?” Abby shrugged. Kelsey Drama might be a sultry, sensual, flirty streamer with a penchant for discovering new and creative ways to keep her breasts and ass at the center of her gaming streams, but Kathy Liu was much less open about her personal dealings. Being called out felt like an invasion of privacy.
The two bantered about the previous matches and the next one before the first of the main event's competitors approached them, handwraps trailing behind her like ribbons.
“Probably realized what she was in for and ran off. I was hoping she'd stick around and find out firsthand.” Flor Ramirez explained, staring at her handwrap instead of her audience.
Abby eyed the woman like one might appraise a diamond ring from a pawnshop: Medium height. Brown skin and dark brown hair. Toned like an athlete. Curvy in spite of that. But the thing she noticed most of all was the way she moved, and the way she didn't. Kathy's new beau moved like a coiled spring, only ostensibly at rest, ready to explode at any time.
This could be interesting.
Abby waved excitedly as the fighter arrived, looking her up and down. “Oh wow Kathy, you weren't kidding. She looks like she's ready to kick some ass. You'd probably knock me out with one punch, Flor” Abby said, wincing. “Since you're here, why don't I go see if we can't find the other half of this matchup.” The 5'8 Black woman smoothed out her jacket and jeans and left the two coeds to their own devices.
“Ready to go?” Kathy already knew the answer.
“Hell yeah. I mean, if you just want me to do what I did to Hannah? This'll be easy.” The Chicana woman beamed. “I'm not used to like... wet fights but as long as you're not expecting 'porn star' I think it'll be ok.”
“Yeah, that was perfect. You can beat her up, just... don't just beat her up. There's plenty of places where people can watch women's MMA. Beat, Prey, Love is gonna be the intersection of 'hot girls, real fights, and sexy action.' The taller woman explained. Kathy massaged Flor's athletic shoulders and whispered into her ear. “Besides... you know how hot I get watching you dominate someone. Show her who's in charge. Then show her a good time...” Kathy's sensual tone left no doubts about her desires or expectations. The Latina boxer swallowed hard and spun away, smoothing out the torn white crop top she wore on top of a black sports bra meant to flatten her impressive bust.
“Aww jeez Kathy... don't say it like that. You make it sound so dirty...” She put her knee up and hands out as if fending off an attacker.
“Fine. I guess I have to look at least partially impartial.” Kathy shrugged.
“Heyyyy,” Abby's voice was sweet and saccharine as always. “I was worried one of you got lost.” She giggled as she pushed into the gym's locker room, greeted by the sound of giggling women.
“You're pretty funny.” Whitney admitted between laughs, but the two competitors immediately stopped laughing when they noticed the cheery interloper.
“Get lost, sunflower. We'll head out there when we're ready.” The bigger woman explained. 6'0 tall, and as well endowed as she was thickly muscled, Whitney Kotey's scowl was visible even as her giant mane of bouncy black curls covered her bright green eyes. She'd dominated an overmatched freshman in the night's first bout; now she sat peeling off the fight gear that sold her 'goth girl' aesthetic. Sitting beside her was Miranda Torres, who looked ready to enjoy similar success against Flor. Abby watched the athletic redhead pull off a US Marines shirt and slip into a skimpy, military camouflage-colored cheerleader's outfit and a pair of green MMA gloves.
“So I know you're Hex Flex,” the slender Black woman eyed the bigger, paler one before she turned to the ginger Latina. “But what's your ring name tonight?” Abby smiled, clasping her hands in front of her.
“I'm Sierra Echo.” the redhead announced, primping her high ponytail and bangs. “And I'm ready to fuck this wannabe up until she begs me to fuck her harder.” The toned college sophomore rose off the bench and moved towards the door. “So move it, bubblegum, unless you wanna be next.” She shouldered past Abby, and Whitney shoulder checked the older student hard enough to knock her on her ass, laughing as they returned to the bright lights of the gym.
Miranda Torres sauntered and skipped through the crowd, fully enjoying the stares and gasps that she and Whitney elicited. Her menacing new friend had proved useful already. She let the goth titan clear a path through the observers, finally tapping Whitney on the hip and moving past her to confront Kathy and her noxious little bulldog-paramour.
“Okaaaay Miranda, I see you, getting into the spirit of things with a little cosplay, a little dress up.” Kathy smiled. “That cheerleader outfit is cuuuute.”
“Took you long enough.” Flor said. “I was wondering if you decided to save yourself an ass whooping and escape with the bride of Frankenstein over there.”
“I've never seen someone look like they need a shower before the fight” Miranda scrunched up her face and made a dismissive gesture. “And shaving half your head screams 'I need therapy,' but whatever...” She turned to Kathy, “I'm ROTC now but I was a cheerleader in high school: I figured a camouflage outfit would be cute.” She gestured at her clothes. “And you know what? I was right. But hey: if you fight as bad as you dress this'll be over faster than Whitney's fight. Maybe you can steal some of Kathy's clothes while you're doing the walk of shame out of her appartment next week.”
Miranda took a half step back and let Kathy move between her and a newly incensed Flor. Pissing off losers like her never failed to amuse, and hearing someone behind her laughing at her joke only emboldned her.
Two minutes later Abigail was pointing a camera at Flor and Kathy as the latter interviewed her friend on camera for the first time. Flor's reluctance shone through immediately, dissolving only after Kathy assured her that the interview was in fact necessary and fed her a few easy questions.
“I mean, it's like... it's like I said. I'm 'Rosa Rated R' and I'm here to bully a cheerleader. Shit, I'm actually here to bully everyone... but since this puta couldn't stop running her mouth, she's getting handled first. One of us is dangerous and the other one is wearing a skirt. I'm still planning on taking her pride and taking her top for a trophy. We're getting wet and wild on camera, right? Tears, smeared mascara, and a fucked cheerleader is a classic combo.”
“So why do they call you 'Rosa Rated R'?” Kathy asked.
“I'm guaranteed to produce graphic sexual content and gratuitous violence.” Flor stammered. “Stay tuned.”
Flor knew the things to say but didn't have the comfort in front of a camera that Kathy took for granted. The interview continued for several minutes until Flor answered a question, dragged her thumb across her throat, and swore at Miranda. She walked past Kathy and Abigail, effectively ending the interview. From behind the camera Abby gave her mentee the thumbs up and confirmed that they'd captured enough raw footage to edit into something compelling later.
Now it was her smug opponent's turn to make an introduction.
“So I'm Sierra Echo , and I'm like, here to have a good time!” Miranda exclaimed with a gesture that was part salute, part exuberance. “I'm pretty, popular, and ready to rumble!”
Kathy took a second to regain her composure. She'd prepared for a lot of things, but the surly sophomore redhead playing an overly exuberant babyface cheerleader was almost too much to bear. She swallowed hard and moved to her next question. Miranda responded with the same bubbly energy. Kathy wasn't sure if Miranda Torres intentionally butchered the pronunciation of a Mexican word or phrase every time she mentioned 'Rosa Rated R' but she could almost hear Flor's teeth grinding somewhere behind her.
But with each question it became more clear that Miranda was faking it. Her artifice was increasingly obvious, more manic than happy, more wolf in sheep's clothing than happy bunny.
Kathy was willing to let her soldier on but the woman behind the camera stood up and sighed.
“Hey, Miranda... I... this feels a little forced.” Abby explained with authentic concern. “Being nice is supposed to come naturally, isn't it? Maybe you should play your character a little more true to life...”
The pale Latina's brow furrowed as turned from Kathy to Abby. “Excuse me, bitch?” The response was nearly automatic.
“Yeah!” The two streamers exclaimed in near unison. “Give us that Miranda! Or that 'Sierra Echo.'”
The sophomore stared daggers at both of them and sighed. “Really? Bitchy cheerleader?” A vicious smile spread across her face and her voice sharpened. “Fine. It's her funeral after all...”
Miranda's restarted interview was much more vicious, and the upperclassmen streamers wondered what kind of high school experience could have shaped her. Not quite 'queen bee-prom queen' but something sharp and confident and dangerous. This Miranda was witty and caustic and the insults she generated seemingly on the fly drew genuine laughs from the girls watching on.
Kathy thought that Miranda seemed like the perfect bully, as if grown in a lab for this express purpose.
Abby worried about pairing two heel characters together on the first card, and worried more about the fact that these two harbored more genuine animosity than any Beat, Prey, Love pairing so far. Beat, Prey, Love matches were supposed to be sexy and competitive rather than ugly and gritty, but would Kathy notice before it was too late?.
Abby only wondered which predator would feast on the other...
Abby-Mochi served as their referee Miranda objected to Flor's fuckbuddy refereeing her fight. Kathy acquiesced and handled camera duties while the slender Black senior handled the introductions. Kathy had specifically asked her to pitch them on starting their bout with a steamy kiss like Connie and Jessica had, like all future BPL bouts would, but one look at the twitchy hatred animating both women was enough to convince Abby otherwise. She announced the fighters by their ring names as Miranda and Flor became Sierra Echo and Rosa Rated R. She reminded the camera and the fighters about their 'wet MMA' rules: a knockout, submission, or orgasm were all legitimate ways to claim victory, and removing clothing was as legal as a left hook.
Both women nodded, and Sierra even tapped Rosa's outstretched MMA glove as the fight began.
Then Rosa's stiff jab snapped her taller opponent's head back and Sierra's smirk curdled. Kathy swore under her breath and hoped this could stay competitive and sexy somehow.
Their stylistic differences revealed themselves over the first 30 seconds of their bout: Rosa moved with the tight, angled footwork of a boxer, arms tucked and fists bobbing, always pushing forward into Sierra's personal space. The taller redhead kept her hands wide and open, clearly looking for a solid opening to grab the brawny boxer. The Texan boxer might have more fighting experince to lean on thanks to an impressive amateur record, but she gave up a noticeable size advantage to the taller, broader Marine cadet.
Rosa stung her with increasing frequency, buzzing around the taller girl and digging into her with her red MMA gloves. The cheerleader connected occasionally but it was clear which of them threw punches only recreationally. Instead Rosa menaced her, standing too close and always at weird angles that frustrated her own attempts. Sierra had imagined a plodding boxer, more brawler than technician, but instead found a tight, sharp ball of constant motion. Rosa grew more confident as she scored, taunting the younger woman. “Damn. You fucking suck.” She said without affect. “Just quit.”
Their referee worried that this might be a landslide victory for Kathy's lover until Sierra blocked a punch thrown close enough for her to snatch a tan bicep in her firm grip and drive her hip into her target's stomach. Rosa didn't understand the exact mechanism of the throw that followed, only the sensation of Sierra turned away from her a moment before she sailed through the air and landed on her back with a thud that reverberated through the drafty gym. Some of the girls surrounding the cage winced as Sierra pressed against the downed boxer, smiling like a knife.
“Did you see that fucking Judo throw?” One of the girls at cageside asked. “Who knew she had skills?”
Rosa blinked away confusion but found a moment of clarity when Sierra crashed a hard forearm into her cheek and reminded her of an eternal truth: Grappling fucking sucks.
The downed boxer brought her arms up to ward off more punishment and immediately sought an exit. Those weeks getting steamrolled by Samantha and submitted by Kathy had to be worth something.
“You got quiet all of a sudden. That's no fun.” Miranda said, still looking for a position from which to rain down hell on her opponent. “I wanna hear you cry, beg, moan.” For Sierra, the rest came naturally: waiting for the struggling girl to tire, make a mistake, and subject herself to Sierra's every wicked whim. It'd worked on whatever bitch dared to cross her throughout her high school enrollment, and it'd work just as well here. Classmates, rival cheerleaders or players, stupid fucking musclebound boxers: everyone was the same once she sat on their waist. She'd heard and seen nothing to suggest Flor was any threat if she wasn't standing up.
“Come on, sport.” She teased. “I thought you were gonna kick my ass? What happened, Rosa?” he pulled and twisted on whatever limb Flor wasn't defending at the moment, stopping only to jam a hard limb into Rosa's body or taunt and tease the spiteful Texan beneath her.
“Just taking a detour, slut. Don't... get so impatient.” Rosa groaned as Sierra ground her into the canvas.
They spent less than a minute on the ground, their roles of predator and prey reversed, before Rosa Rated R found an escape off her back and onto her knees. She leaned against the cold wall of the MMA cage, rubber coated metal sagging under their combined weight. She finally fought her way free after another scramble, more bruised and tired than she'd been before the trip to the canvas.
And that was the rhythm of their fight: Sierra Echo applying increasingly apparent Judo training in search of a trip or a throw while Rosa Rated R sought to maximize her ratio of 'bruises delivered per second spent standing.' It was gritty. It was hotly contested. It was everything that Beat, Prey, Love's founder didn't want:
A brutal fight between women with genuine animosity.
The only “hot action” came when one girl was at a severe disadvantage: Rosa's sloppy kisses and rough groping came only after a vicious punch left the buxom cheerleader woozy or gasping for air. But Sierra's grappling was equally vicious, spitting out her mouthguard onto a trapped and squirming boxer to suck her neck or lick her chest or grab Rosa's surprisingly bountiful chest and curvy hips with all the tender care of an oversexed freshman boy seeing breasts in person for the first time. By the time five minutes had elapsed, both women were sporting new, colorful bruises and exactly no hickeys or signs of arousal. A mouse under the cadet's eye threatened to swell and the Texan's taught abs sported new, berry colored splotches.
Behind the camera, Kathy wanted to call off the fight and swear at both girls. She wanted to send them home without pay. She wanted them to be sexy and she couldn't figure out why they couldn't just give her what she wanted instead of both being so fucking stubborn about being so fucking tough. The same details that made watching Flor dominate another girl so irresistible made watching her brawl vicious and ugly. Why wasn't Abby stopping them, making them fight the way they were supposed to? Instead her mentor only broke them up when the gasping warriors fought themselves to a stalemate.
For Rosa, the sound of someone grunting when she dug her fist into them reminded her of home. The only thing missing was her father griping at ringside. He'd never supported her dream of professional boxing, not truly, always too enamored with the idea of raising a champion son even if that meant ignoring the most naturally gifted pugilist of all his kids. She might no longer have Olympic aspirations, but that didn't mean that the surly Texan couldn't put her years of training to good use.
A short flurry detonated on Sierra's face and chest and the San Diego native swayed, ready to take her second or third solo trip to the canvas. But Rosa, ever present, caught hold of her skirt as she tumbled back, intending to hold her in place and deliver the fight ending sequence before finally delivering the steamy aftermath her girlfriend wanted so badly. Instead the camouflage cheer skirt partially ripped and its owner landed on her ass near the edge of the cage.
“Fucking bitch!” Sierra screamed, but not fast enough for Rosa to dive at her, tugging at the fraying garment and landing punches to the face and stomach meant to force the grappler to relinquish her now tattered spoils of war. This time, Abby did intervene, and the cute Black girl wearing an oversized striped referee shirt and short shorts reminded both girls that torn or partially removed clothing had to be removed entirely. Sierra protested and only Abby's threat to disqualify her mollified her mini tantrum, one encouraged by Rosa Rated R's taunts from across the cage.
“Keep that skirt nearby, ref! I want a picture of me holding my trophy after I knock this bitch out. I'm gonna put it on my dorm wall like a signed poster.” she announced
Kathy wondered what had pushed the normally surly, taciturn woman into outright antagonism.
Sierra stalked across the cage, bare legged now and wearing only a scandalous black thong alongside her cheerleader top and MMA gloves. Warmth blossomed inside of Kathy as she watched the Marine cadet’s curvy, muscular thighs and bare ass jiggle and tense with each movement.
Rosa interpreted this as the beginning of the end for the disrobed cheerleader. Sierra Echo wanted nothing else than revenge. When the Chicana boxer dashed across the cage looking to write the night's ending, she found a judoka coiled like a spring. She tackled Rosa with a takedown that bore little resemblance to the slick trips and tosses that had marked her earlier moments of the fight. This time the pair collapsed in a messy heap with the half dressed cheerleader nominally on top and aiming punches and knees at Rosa's sports bra or between her legs. When the downed girl twisted and turned, Sierra's target became evident. She grabbed at the Texan's bra and the crop simultaneously, pulling both up and over. When she lost her balance, Rosa bolted to her feet, arms held above her head by half removed clothing.
“My turn, bitch!” Sierra said with venom that would have impressed a rattlesnake. Rosa staggered backwards, trying in vain to quickly discard her top and defend herself, but Sierra took advantage faster than their ref could intervene. She landed her best punches of their bout, driving hard shots into the older student's undefended stomach and chest. “I'm gonna fucking break you. I'm gonna fuck you on camera until-”
“Hey hey, stop!” Abby grabbed at the incensed cheerleader's shoulder and bicep to pull her away. Partially removed clothing had to come off before the fight could resume. A few of the audience laughed at Rosa's predicament, one arm waving helplessly, shirt half over her head, but nothing else about the scene or fight engendered mirth.
“Fuck off, bubblegum bitch.” Sierra snarled. “You let her try to break my face while I was on the ground. Now it's my turn.”
Abby persisted, and the rest occurred in slow motion to the woman behind the camera: her streaming mentor pulling on the taller fighter, Sierra gripping her opponent's top and bra with both hands, and Rosa pulling away towards the wall of the cage.
The shirt ripped, Abby lost her grip and tumbled to the floor, and a newly liberated Rosa Rated R charged straight for her opponent. Sierra met her head on and they collided, then crashed to the floor, flailing and fighting, swapping bottom and top position with reckless abandon, lost to anything besides pure rage.
Kathy had finally seen enough.
The camera caught her entering the cage and alongside a newly upright Abby, pulling on either combatant. A few of the girls caught on that this wasn't part of the plan or the show and helped forcibly separate the incensed brawlers who threw invectives even when they could no longer throw punches.
“You're still a fake Mexican bitch, Miranda! 100 percent puta!” Flor railed as Kathy and Jennifer struggled to keep her from charging across the mats. The lanky, green haired freshman always seemed to be within arm's reach of Kathy.
“I'm gonna make you regret being born you dirty little trash b-” Miranda shouted, only stopping when Whitney physically lifted her off the ground and spun her away.
Kathy looked between the two girls and swore. She wanted to cry, wanted to walk out of the gym and make this someone else's problem. But that would mean giving up, and she wasn't about to let these two egocentric gladiators strangle this new lucrative dream in its infancy. It just wasn't fucking fair; why couldn't they just
“You're crying. Go have your meltdown in the bathroom.” An instruction, not a recommendation. She found Abby staring at her. Kathy knew her mentor was right. The college junior wiped her face and excused herself.
The Digital Arts and Communications double major stared at herself in the mirror. Thank God for (mostly) waterproof makeup. It took 5 minutes to remind herself of everything that had gone right, that the growing pains of a new endeavor were normal. That this, she, was ok.
She wiped her face and put on a smile before she visited Miranda and Flor, each of them sitting in a different locker room or restroom and attempting to cool off from the manic bloodlust of the ruined match.
She'd seen Flor first, though the woman wanted nothing to do with her or anyone as far as she could tell. Kathy still held feelings for the moody slugger but couldn't deny a throbbing frustration with Flor’s actions.
Miranda was easier: Kathy let Whitney and Abby do the talking, only stopping by as a courtesy to ensure no one was seriously hurt.
It took 5 more minutes and another chat with Abigail for Kathy Liu to gather enough composure to address the crowd with some semblance of the bubbly personality that her friends and online followers alike had come to expect from Kelsey Drama. Her voice pierced the awkward silence and milling about that had since subsumed the now preparing to leave fighters and audience members.
“Well... that happened, right?” Kathy forced a laugh and prepared more damage control. “Thanks to all of our competitors tonight, even the two who legit tried to kill each other. But... fuck me, that's my fault, right? I thought you two could like... pull your heads out of your asses and actually like... be cool or whatever.” She clapped her hands together.
“But like I said, welcome to 'Beat, Prey, Love!' We're gonna get wild here, maybe a little too wild sometimes, but even that's ok. No one went to the hospital, we got some awesome, sexy footage, and I at least had a good time. Hell, I know a lot of you did too.” She looked over the group of female college students.
“But I've gotta go home and like... edit this footage, so you should all go home too. We're definitely gonna do this again; I know a few of you didn't get to compete. We'll definitely have to change some things before we do this again, but we're definitely gonna do this again, ladies.” She noticed her own unease when she said 'definitely' for the third time.
“This was the first 'Beat, Prey, Love' event and there's absolutely gonna be a second one, and soon. In the meantime, if you post any photos or pictures, make sure to use the ‘Beat, Prey, Love’ or 'BPL' hashtag, or at least tag me, kay? Now get home safe, pass your classes or whatever, and I'll see you all next time!”
Her mea culpa delivered, Kathy gave a smile and a wave and walked off. If her years as an online streamer had taught her anything, it was that reframing the experience and performing damage control were the most important parts of an apology. She'd established her brand, established expectations, and she knew that the girls would tell their friends about tonight’s events. Abigail met her by the locker where she'd left her stuff and began discussing next steps. When the persistent presence standing too close to her refused to leave, the tall redheaded streamer turned around to find the awkward, too-tall freshman girl with green highlights and persistent 'resting bitch face.'
Jennifer Schweizer was easy to spot and hard to remember.
“What's up Jen? Need something?” Kathy asked.
The nervous freshman bit her lip and paused, “I caught the bus down here but all the buses stop at midnight soooo...” Jennifer asked without actually asking.
Kathy suppressed her agitation and smiled. “Yeah... sure. You can ride back to campus with Abby and me. I can't actually leave yet; I gotta clean up and lock up, or the assholes who own this place will actually never let me film here again.” Kathy sighed. Her swift escape would have to wait.
“Sure! I can... help out or whatever.” Jennifer volunteered.
Kathy nodded, mind racing, already considering what she should have done and would have to do differently next time. She'd need to ensure a better, sexier outcome, or better harness this kind of raw violence in a more lucrative way. All of that would have to wait, but the possibilities were already more exciting than any of her classes.
#Writing #FirstDraft #NSFW #Series #BeatPreyLove #BPL #Fiction #Action #Sex #Fight #MartialArts #MMA
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