This hasn't been around for a few years. I'll post it in sizeable sections, probably a dozen parts, or a few more.
This first piece is a 4 page Obituary Writer Hallie found on her desk one morning. It changed her life.
LIFE & DEATH IN THE D-RING
CUSTOMIZED RECRUITING AD
Application to Fight in Our Casinos
Nearing it's 100th anniversary, D-RING Extravaganzas Inc. boasts the most successful development and promotion of women's EXTREME events ever! No other sports corporation provides audiences such outrageous entertainment, and our valued female combatants such incredible opportunities for violent uncensored hate and revenge fights for great pay! Defeat your enemy the legal way! We are always looking for new risk-taking talent - our client gamblers demand it!
Are YOU woman enough to join our team of aggressive entertainers? Are you willing to lure into the ring and then beat the crap out of YOUR greatest enemy to entertain our high-rolling gamblers? Just fill out the attached form and bring it in (by appointment only). We'll see if you have what it takes to become a great D-RING fighter! You have just one life to live, and so does your ENEMY! Hers could be WASTED if the fight goes your way!! There could also be a lucrative contract in your near future if you show us you have what it takes! Can you imagine a better way to make it big than by pounding the daylights out of your worst enemy? Don't Delay, Call TODAY!! You could be the next big WINNER!!
NO SISSIES NEED APPLY! THIS IS A SPORT FOR REAL WOMEN! ARE YOU WOMAN ENOUGH?!
When you come in we will conduct a brief interview to verify you qualify, then if you do, you will be invited to participate in a brief trial bout to demonstrate your readiness for the ring. No training is necessary, but we prefer fit combatants. You will need to bring along specified disposable pieces of clothing, as they will not likely be wearable after your audition bout. Clothes ripping is required during the qualifying bout to demonstrate aggression. Combatants begin the audition fight wearing only a pair of brief panties (revealing is acceptable) and a light shirt, blouse or wife-beater tank top that reveals either the top or the bottom of their breasts. Nothing may be worn under these, and they will be destroyed in the course of the fight.. Applicants are required to shave clean armpits and genital area prior to interview. We want to know you are serious about this! You will also be asked to wear internally a pair of tampons (we provide them and insert them in privacy) in your vagina and rectum, because we don't really want the shit beaten out of you, at least not for the interview! The object of the audition bout is to render your partner naked (we provide competition for the test bout) then pull both tampons out of her! Doesn't that sound like fun? An outrageous challenge for ladies up to it. Successful applicants will move up to participate in Brutal Entertainment Sport at its Best, here in our Chicago Casino! We know you're out there, itching for a fight, but nothing happens until you pick up the phone! Call us Now!!
Should you join our team, the objective and costume of competitions change. Hiring decisions are made at the interview, and take effect immediately you accept. Successful applicants sign total rights waver, become chattel of employer. Refusal to fight never an option; extreme penalties at sole discretion of employer, Every fight has both winners and losers. Call now and receive special training to make yourself the odds-on winner! We will all benefit by your success! If you have extreme malice in you, we want to hear from you NOW !
Are YOU a WINNER? Call us at 999-987-6543 NOW! (toll charges apply)
D-RING, Death Cycle, Bet Your Life, Die is Cast, BloodSport Entertainments, DIPSI-DAMSEL DAMSEL-DEMOLITION DERBY, Kill Porkie Phattie Phites, GOT GUTZ?, Organ Harvest Games, Medi-Evil Creative Torts Incp AMAZON WOMEN WHIPCRACKERS, 9Mo. Inducements, Preggie Belly Poppers, Bloody Caesar Rectumy (exciting birthing through rectum), Koliseum DethTV, Rodeo Sexports Inc., GleamBlade Amusements, Bimbo Butchers, Kunt Hunt, Shit Happens Pit Sports, SkulSplit SordFietz, Polerider Impalements, Jillhammer Femdestruction Sports, Dead End Ally Fights and Bitches End Amusements Inc. are all registered world wide trade names of D-RING Extravaganzas Inc. All ladies participate in our amusements at their own risk; no rules are enforced, extreme excessive violence is expected, harm and damage to female combatants is encouraged, and survival of even the fittest is never guaranteed. Come direct to play in the big leagues, where no quarter is expected or ever given. Hurt your enemy so she will always remember her humiliation, show her she is nothing but disposable trash! Both finesse and brawl styles of combat are acceptable; how will you fight? Be informed that although we screen all ladies who participate in our world-wide rings, we can't and won’t prevent trained fighters from participating. Surprises are always exciting, aren’t they. It the event you are enrolled in an exciting armed fight, only supplied weapons may be used in the ring. We’ll make sure you’re properly equipped when the time comes! Put your trust in D-Ring Inc, and we’ll put our trust in you!
Nobody, not even your worst personal enemy, should die in vain, only for profit! (ours!)
Destroying a combative naked woman for Entertainment Gambling can be great fun!
Note: Information you provide about your enemy is voluntary and kept private - If you don't wish to name one (we all have them, don't we), D-RING Inc. can provide one for you. We have unskilled fighters willing to lose to you. They really want you to do well. Or, if you can’t persuade the enemy of your choice, someone you’d really like to hammer, to come to our gambling arena to participate in an unfriendly spat with you, our capture team can put your personal enemy in the ring if you agree to sign consent and waiver for her participation. The following is for inforation about you.
Bust size:______________ Cup: B C D DD Other : __________
Hips:___________________Hair color:______________________ Length:__________
Race (circle one):
White - Dark Black - Mid Black - Lite Black - Hispanic - Mulatto - E. Indian - S. American. –
N.A. Indian - Arab - Spic - Jew - Chink - Jap – Other (all races welcome) : _____________________________
Free of family ties:
No (please answer yes if you are not in weekly touch with close relatives)
passive 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 RAGING MAD!
HOW MUCH CAN YOU DISH OUT? HOW BADLY DO YOU WANT TO HURT YOUR ENEMY?
Scratch her face, tits and back
Damage her vagina
Make her bleed
Break her nose
Split her ear
Force her to deficate in the ring
Give her extreme nausia (puke)
Use a blunt weapon on her
Use a sharp weapon on her
Give her a Concussion
Scar her for life
Damage her internal organs
Crack her skull
See the vicious cunt dead!
All of the above (best choice for successful fighters)
Everything is Possible!! If you said yes to most or all of the above, you understand what our eager audiences want to see. Once you see how well you do, you will want to go the limit (and there are no limits!). Are YOU woman enough to make it so? One step at a time, dear, but only YOU set the limits! Only the first step need be taken, if that's all you want, but nothing happens before that important first step!
Call us at 999-987-6543 NOW! (Charges apply)
No answers are as important as your attitude. We want ladies capable of fully acting out violence when push comes to scratch comes to gouge. Neither you nor our gambling clients should expect anything less. They pay big money to see you at your best! If you want to be a really mean bitch, can get yourself into a justified rage where you really want to hurt your enemy, and are ready to JUST DO IT, we want to talk to you. Call us at 999-987-6543 NOW! (charges apply)
D-RING Extravaganzas Inc. and its world-wide affiliates provide you the opportunity to prove and improve yourself while you see the world and make great money! The thrill of the battle is what it's all about. Our clients bet thousands on each contest; for the televised TOTAL VIOLENCE shows, millions are often wagered on our merciless fighting women. We have important clients waiting to see you fight and to bet on your success in our ring!! - Don't disappoint them. If you want to join the winning team, Call us NOW! Get the chance to get even with your worst enemy and mark her for life; at the very least she'll remember the hurt you gave her for years. When you become a seasoned fighter under our training, you will have the chance to fight in several innovative solo events as well as lucrative team battles. Fill out this form and call us today! First real fight pays the winner $1,000. the loser $50. Fight to WIN!! Call us at 999-987-6543 NOW!
Operators are waiting to make your appointment NOW. If your ENEMY doesn't want to take part, we have a team of strong-willed coaches to persuade her to fight you with an offer she can't refuse. This is your opportunity to make her sorry she ever met you! It’s your call. Don't delay, CALL NOW!! Call us at 999-987-6543 NOW! (charges apply) We will make an apointment for you right away, knowing how valuable you are to our success. We want to see you as soon as possible, and if you’re right for us, sign you up for your first ever ring fight!
REQUIREMENTS FOR COMBATANTS
The following requirements are non-negotiable. NO exceptions, severe penalties for violations will be applied.
All Combatants shall be:
Female (simple ‘panties off’ test required at time of interview)
16 or older (North America, younger where conditions or laws allow) with fully developed breasts, unless signed in by parents or our qualified consent attorneys
Physically sound, without major or permanent blemish
Mentally and emotionally committed to our philosophy of winner take all, loser (unlikely to be you) loses all
Proud to display themselves and all of their physical and sexual assets from the relative safety of the ring
Ready to commence immediately (it only takes a total of two evenings, both on our schedule and as fight schedule allows)
Before Novice Event, all approved combatants shall:
Sign waiver accepting full responsibility for any harm, physical or mental damage, regardless of cause, to you or your opponent while on our property
Identify name and address of suitable enemy (optional, strongly recommended) or friend to fight - yup, friends like it too! Can you imagine how sexy it would be to pop your best friend? On the nose or permanently!
Submit to full body hair treatment, including pubic hair shave or removal of any body hair as deemed necessary, and if required, submit to our patented permanent body hair removal process.
If required, undergo full body tan, which helps diferentiate you from pale opponent (you get to keep the tan)
Pose for publicity shots without inhibition, performing exactly as directed; all photos become the exclusive property of D-Ring Inc. for any promotional or profitable enterprise
Work with professional photographer on fight/sex/horror spread for our web site (pays extremely well for full cooperation, not considered dangerous) Videos require real fighting, sometimes with weapons, and pay much more for winners. Loosers get to keep what they get!
Assign unconditional ownership of your image, both motion and stills, to D-RING Extravaganzas Inc. for use entirely at the discretion of the Publicity & Promotions or Online Production Departments, in perpetuity.
Participate, if successful (you will be), with invited guests in Winner's Circle celebration after novice fight
Agree to the use or be bound in restraints as deemed necessary by D-RING Extravaganzas Inc. in any circumstances
All combatants offered extended fight contract shall:
Accept endless free residence in Corporate Combatant Community - you need never leave;
Enjoy free meals and nutrition enhancements to build you to full fighting potential - may include massive steroid doses, at sole discretion of our experts;
As contract commitment, assign D-RING Extravaganzas Inc. as sole beneficiary of estate and upon signing, invoke D-RE Inc. with Full Power of Attorney for life, and executor of your estate; to manage your affairs for you for life and after;
Enjoy world travel and monthly pay increases for life, extending a full year after your demise;
Receive full medical and dental coverage, as determined necessary for combatants to perform at peak level and audience approval, subject to unilaterally imposed conditions without prior notice;
If determined necessary, submit to reconstructive surgery, breast and genitalia enhancement to improve beauty, sensuality, ring character appearance and/or ferocity;
Adhere to ongoing regeme of steroid-assisted body enhancement and mood-altering drug therapies as prescribed by Corporate Physicians
Attend twice-daily training sessions to learn fight techniques, enhance bodily function control to produce upon demand, correct technique errors, enhance body tone, gracefully take punishment of any kind, improve success rate and generate audience approval;
Participate in team/gang style battles and promotional exhibitions, both in the ring and wherever required, accepting all risks and potential outcomes;
Willingly and thoroughly take part in scheduled or unscheduled pain-absorbing training in many various styles and settings, including public and/or televised promotional performances and disciplinary sessions at management discretion;
Willingly and enthusiastically engage in death fights when and as often as these be assigned, committing to fight until you have killed your opponent;
Commit life to success and growth of D-RING Extravaganzas Inc. and fully subscribe to our promotional motto "A job to die for!"
Be permitted to exercise the sole escape clause once in career. We wish you luck! Good luck!
Escape Clause : If I am killed, either accidentally or intentionally, while in the employ of D-Ring Inc. either as an entertainer in the ring or otherwise, I shall no longer be bound by any of the above conditions, and will by my demise earn my total freedom from responsibilities addressed herein.
The Fine Print : Some minor deductions to wages apply, including training fees, travel costs, accommodation when out of prime residence, meals during travel, agency fees for scheduled bouts, publicity expenses, administration costs and attorney fees for lawsuits, medical costs for damage to adversaries, equipment and costume fees, cost of hair and makeup artists, shared facility rental for competitions, staffing of facilities, entertainment taxes (pro-rated), medical and legal insurance, carcass disposal costs, and other reasonable costs that may arise. No referee costs are charged; referees no longer used. Once in the ring, combatants are on their own, with only the screams of the crowd to guide them. We want our ladies to have fun getting it on, and not be limited to rules. Just fight hard and you'll do fine!
Note: total deductions will never exceed your total earnings. Should your opponent be killed, accidentally or otherwise, you will be deemed to be sole cause of her demise, taking both credit and any legal responsibility for her death, and will earn more challenging and higher paying fights as a result. When they lose, you profit; when they die, you’re promoted! At D-Ring Inc. Its all about winning, which can make you very wealthy! While you’re with us you are our guest!
I hereby agree to all terms and conditions herein.
(Witness requested only in Nebraska, Ohio and Luxemburg; never required)
Note: Signing this form constitutes total relinquishing of fundamental human rights and acceptance of role as chattel.
Our commitment to Combatants: One way or another, D-Ring Extravaganzas Inc. will take care of you! For losers, no funeral costs are incurred; we discretely dispose of bitch-meat remains. Remains: what is left of your enemy in the ring after you as winner exit. We have no competition at this level – We are the BEST! If you are HOT we can use you! Nothing beats beating on your enemy (or friend)! Start now, and get on the road to extreme success!
NOMINATION OF OPPONENT
Name of proposed opponent : ______________________________ Age : ______
Address : ____________________________________________________Race : ____________________
City : ______________________ State : ________
Zip :__________ Telephone : ________________
What we should know about her : _______________________________________________________________
If a minor (under 16; little girls welcome!)
Age :_________ Height :__________ Parent or Guardian signature: ______________________________________
Or in the alternative : Our consent lawyer’s signature: _________________________________________________
In the event our consent lawyer’s signature is used, the following cover story for disappearance should be used: ________________________________________________________________________________________________________
FOR OFFICIAL USE ONLY
Applicant Accepted ___ Rejected ___ Beauty Rating ____ Body Rating ___ Genital Rating ___ Heat Rating _____
Trainability ________ Virgin: Vaginal ___ Rectal ___ Holdings Value $_________ Holdings Accessibility ________
Opponent Accepted ___ Rejected ___ We Supply for her: Her Nominee________Ring Victim _______Assigned Ring Killer: _________________
looking forward for the next part. Exited to see some brutal fights.
LIFE & DEATH IN THE D-RING An Exploration of Human Blood-Lust by Regis
Hallie found the four pages that totally changed her life lying on her desk that fateful morning, and she was both shocked and embarrassed by the content. It was an ad and application form to participate in the infamous and seedy no-holds-barred, no rules extreme female fights that, if the stories were true, were flourishing around the world. Clearly somebody thought it was funny to bait her, and either wanted to make her angry or test her sense of humor. She wasn’t sure what she had in front of her was authentic ; the pages were not printed but appeared to be off a laser printer, and could easily have been created by someone in the office with a sick sense of humor. Then she thought, as she crumpled them and threw them into the trash basket under her desk, that maybe she had an enemy who wanted her to fight; maybe this ad was real, and she was being challenged. Was her name the one that would go in as the nominated opponent? Was someone warning her? She couldn’t think of anyone she knew who would do that. Whatever the purpose, she found it disturbing, and it stayed in her mind as she went about her busy morning researching and writing obituaries for her employer, the Chicago Tribune. What she wanted from life was to be a reporter, but did not have enough money saved to go to college, which her husband was going to pay for when he finished his education, but something intervened. More accurately, someone intervened. One day he came home and told her he was leaving for good, and he moved in with that 1st year blonde bitch he met at the Demolition Derby. ‘Vivian Bitch,' as she had thought of that slut ever since Brad had divorced her, cutting her loose in favor of that younger 1st year wench who already was getting her college paid by scholarship, so he wouldn't have to pay for it. Now, instead of going to college to get a proper education, Hallie was doing it the hard way, working her way very slowly up the slippery ladder under a boss who couldn't care less for how well she did. At lunch she dug the crumpled ball of weird papers out of the trash, tucked them in her purse, and took them with her down to the cafeteria. Before she pulled them out she glanced around, and saw that nobody was paying any particular attention to her. She unfolded the crumpled sheets and rubbed them flat against the table top. Everyone knew about D-Ring Entertainments Inc., or D-Ring, as people called it, and although for the past sixty years it's events had been more and more open to the public, only hardened gamblers went to its casinos, and as far as she knew most people still disapproved of the company's most notorious events that gave it the famous name. No matter what they called it, everyone expected that the D stood for death, because it was rumored that the female fights they staged sometimes ended with one of the combatants, who according to the stories usually fought nude, being killed. That seemed to Hallie to be an outrageous claim which was never proven, and because fights for gambling wasn’t legally a sport, the sports reporters didn’t cover it. All most people ever heard was rumors, but they were quite nasty, if true. The old cage sport of extreme fighting was always very seedy, and Hallie was certain nothing had improved. Those who defended the concept of fights to the death claimed a real killing in the fight ring would only happen by accident, because everybody knew that extreme fighting always stopped with a knockout. A knockout was required before the fight was over, so if an opponent was down but still conscious, the other fighter had to put out her lights, but that would be it, a simple concussion. That was the single firm rule of extreme fighting. And of course no biting or gouging. Everyone understood that in the heat of the moment an overzealous competitor might get carried away and go too far. Defenders of the sport compared it to the construction industry, where for every so many millions spent, there was an expected death rate. This argument was pretty flimsy, but actually became part of the official corporate rationale to justify the excessive violence of their events whenever an ocurance came to light because they were challenged and had to go to court. Only women were permitted to fight in their rings in casinos around the world, which proved D-Ring Inc. was sexist, and although most fights really were extreme, word by gossips around the water cooler or at coffee had it that the final battle of any of their special spectaculars was always a fight to the death, and wasn't considered over until one of the fighters was killed. That seemed pretty outlandish to Hallie, but in a world where tits and ass were valued over brains and character in females, and where graphic blood and gore were justified on TV in everybody’s livingroom by making the program about solving crime, anything was possible. Hallie didn't follow that kind of wanton immorality, but apparently the women who made it big in the business became quite famous, and willingly exposed themselves to such risk and depravity for really big money. Maybe intended killing was part of it, but that was probably just dreaming by people who wanted to dream about it. Some people Hallie knew thought it might be true, but the people at D-Ring Inc. played their cards close to the vest, and what people didn’t know wouldn’t hurt them. The fight sport had evolved for women in the way that Demolition Derbies with old cars had evolved for men. Hallie's husband Brad, before he dumped her for an even younger model, had taken her to watch the car crash sport because he was an old muscle car fan, as he explained it. He said he liked the carnage these aging machines could do when properly restored and operated. She knew his attraction was mostly the hot chicks that were working the concessions, in the stands, around the pits and even in the cars. Deep inside her she realized the prick was turned on by witnessing the far too common severe injuries and even fatalities in the extreme risk sport. She couldn't imagine what moved people to take part in a so-called sport in which someone could possibly die each weekend. In fact with six competitions in an afternoon, with eight cars in each and two in each car, there were on average four fatalities each weekend. That was what kept the stands packed. Those who took part were very well paid, and pointed out in interviews there was a 96% chance they wouldn't be killed. To Hallie that was the rationale of a warped mind. It had to be something else driving these daredevils. The Demolition Derbies were all about risk, and now they were more dangerous than ever. Over the years all forms of safety were gradually abandoned in the interests of greater fan excitement, and at the same time risk factors were gradually increased by the organizers. They were notorious for cutting most of the way through in several places on the car frame, particularly those protecting the driver; of souping up the engines; of putting in scantily-clad female passengers they called navigators, who wore only spike heels and micro bikinis; removing seat belts and doors to decrease protection and optimize the view for spectators; and sometimes welding in extra gas tanks in vulnerable locations. Some more outrageous promoters even placed small explosive charges in critical parts of the cars beside those gas tanks, so that when a gas tank blew it would create more than fire, creating also a spectacular explosion. People loved fireworks. They claimed there was nothing more spectacular than a driver and near-naked woman covered with fuel being thrown from the car and sometimes burning to death. That's what they called Show Business. An innovation that made it more likely deaths would occur started a decade earlier when one competitor welded half a dozen four foot spikes onto the front and back of his car to increase the damage and risk to occupants of cars that he struck. The next weekend every car at that arena was armed with variations of the same thing. One driver mounted a ten foot lance onto his car, but it reduced his ability to maneuver, and the other drivers took the lesson to heart when he and his buxom blonde passenger were killed because their ability to get out of the way of charging cars was greatly reduced. That first guy got it right; four feet proved to be the optimum length for both front and rear spikes. Like everyone else who packed the stadium dedicated to this deadly sport, her husband Brad attended regularly so that he would never miss the gruesome fatalities that almost always occurred. Death had become a commodity for sale, and it was regularly delivered for the entertainment of the crowd. Deaths in this voilent sport were always accidental, of course; they were just a risk of the sport that the participants understood, and they all signed agreements to clearly say so. Hallie’s jaw dropped in disbelief when she found out the female navigators were auditioned by the promotors to ride aboard the rigged cars as nothing more than eye candy, with all the risks associated with the highly dangerous sport. Hallie hated to see the participants injured or killed, but in all the times she went to the Derbies with Brad she only puked once, when a car backing off from ramming another on the passenger side had the nearly nude female navigator impaled on the spikes, amazingly kicking and screaming, since two of the spikes had driven right through her torso, and a third impaled one of her large breasts. The screaming bitch was still kicking fifteen minutes later, despite the fact the movement of the car, still actively participating in the violent demolition sport, caused the shafts through her torso to gradually rip her so that she was leaking intestines when the car became total scrap from being rammed so often. Most startling of all was that after the gruesome color pictures of the nearly nude young woman impaled on the deadly spikes had been printed on the front page of all the Tabloids, the next Monday more than three times as many gorgeous girls showed up in outrageously daring and revealing bikinis and heels to audition to ride in the Demolition Derby as navigators! The bottoms of their micro-bikinis were usually nothing but slender strips or strings that did nothing to cover their cleanly-shaved vaginas or their rectums when they bent forward to display their friction-enhanced groins. There was no explaining what went on in the heads of girls with great bodies and no brains. This kind of sport was no better than the killings in the ancient Roman Coliseum. Hallie had read about how the Romans put captive Christian women into the huge arena to fight nude against large carnivorous animals, armed only with wooden swords so that the valuable beasts would not be harmed. She couldn’t understand how ancient Romans could be entertained by women being ripped apart by wild animals, until she remembered they were the ancestors of Italians. She had no use for Italian men because of a very bad experience with a high school boyfriend who, after losing a bet, held her while his Italian friends raped her, then one of them brought his big Neapolitan Mastiff, one of the biggest dogs in the world, to mount her. It was so disgusting being force-fucked by a huge dog. These assholes had no respect for a girl! Instead of fierce animals like the Romans used, the Demolition Derby promoters used dangerous cars in the arena, certain some participants could not survive, and It made her sick. It was also sometimes interesting. When she and Brad picked favorites and villains, she actually enjoyed some of the violence to those really mean drivers who they thought had it coming. She found that when the excessive violence was creative and justified it caught her interest, and although she was ashamed to admit it she had some sense of what Brad and the thousand who attended saw in it. Of course the D-Ring fights were different, because she believed there was no skill required, like in preparing and driving a great car in the pit. From what she heard, which was not possible to confirm because it was all rumor, in the D-Ring fights it was just two bimbo broads going after each other, probably bare naked. She had seen the amateur nude fight videos on the net, and found them seedy and boring. The only one that was interesting was one fought in a living room with all the furniture moved aside, where the girls had to force her opponent to pee to win the fight. They were fighting on wall-to-wall beige carpet, getting friction burns on their knees and elbows, and the carpet was urine-stained from several other previous fights. A few darker stains she assumed were blood. Hallie carefully read these papers that had been left for her. She knew what kind of world it had become, and realized this apparent ad might be for real. They had one thing right. Hate was one thing that would get her into the ring. There were more than a few women she would like to be able to really hurt, and doing it to them in a fight ring was a good way to get at them legally, without being arrested for assault. Hallie didn't know anyone who went to these fights, probably attended by lower class people, and she had never been to them herself, so even with people watching, it would be pretty much private and between her and whoever her opponent might be. As she thought about this she felt a stirring in her loins. It would be really hot to do something so overtly sexual in front of people who drooled over her hot body. Hallie was not vain, and had little to be proud of in her life, but she was aware of the quality of her outstanding physique.
11 more parts to follow
Wow. That's hell of blocked text.
You need to edit it in order to make it readable.
First post was ok.
Wow! I should have peeked at the post after placing. Below is the same text, formatted.
Hopefully these are a little more easily chewed.
LIFE & DEATH IN THE D-RING
An Exploration of Human Blood-Lust
Hallie found the four pages that totally changed her life lying on her desk that fateful morning, and she was both shocked and embarrassed by the content. It was an ad and application form to participate in the infamous and seedy no-holds-barred, no rules extreme female fights that, if the stories were true, were flourishing around the world. Clearly somebody thought it was funny to bait her, and either wanted to make her angry or test her sense of humor.
She wasn’t sure what she had in front of her was authentic; the pages were not printed but appeared to be off a laser printer, and could easily have been created by someone in the office with a sick sense of humor. Then she thought, as she crumpled them and threw them into the trash basket under her desk, that maybe she had an enemy who wanted her to fight; maybe this ad was real, and she was being challenged.
Was her name the one that would go in as the nominated opponent? Was someone warning her? She couldn’t think of anyone she knew who would do that. Whatever the purpose, she found it disturbing, and it stayed in her mind as she went about her busy morning researching and writing obituaries for her employer, the Chicago Tribune.
What she wanted from life was to be a reporter, but did not have enough money saved to go to college, which her husband was going to pay for when he finished his education, but something intervened. More accurately, someone intervened. One day he came home and told her he was leaving for good, and he moved in with that 1st year blonde bitch he met at the Demolition Derby.
‘Vivian Bitch,' as she had thought of that slut ever since Brad had left and divorced her, cutting her loose in favor of that younger 1st year wench who already was getting her college paid by scholarship, so he wouldn't have to pay for it. Now, instead of going to college to get a proper education, Hallie was doing it the hard way, working her way very slowly up the slippery ladder under a boss who couldn't care less for how well she did.
At lunch she dug the crumpled ball of weird papers out of the trash, tucked them in her purse, and took them with her down to the cafeteria. Before she pulled them out she glanced around, and saw that nobody was paying any particular attention to her. She unfolded the crumpled sheets and rubbed them flat against the table top.
Everyone knew about D-Ring Entertainments Inc., or D-Ring, as people called it, and although for the past sixty years it's events had been more and more open to the public, only hardened gamblers went to its casinos, and as far as she knew most people still disapproved of the company's most notorious events that gave it the famous name.
No matter what they called it, everyone expected that the D stood for death, because it was rumored that the female fights they staged sometimes ended with one of the combatants, who according to the stories usually fought nude, being killed. That seemed to Hallie to be an outrageous claim, which was never proven, and because fights for gambling wasn’t legally a sport, the sports reporters didn’t cover it. All most people ever heard was rumors, but they were quite nasty, if true. The old cage sport of extreme fighting was always very seedy, and Hallie was certain nothing had improved.
Those who defended the concept of fights to the death claimed a real killing in the fight ring would only happen by accident, because everybody knew that extreme fighting always stopped with a knockout. A knockout was required before the fight was over, so if an opponent was down but still conscious, the other fighter had to put out her lights, but that would be it, a simple concussion. That was the single firm rule of extreme fighting.
And of course no biting or gouging. Everyone understood that in the heat of the moment an overzealous competitor might get carried away and go too far. Defenders of the sport compared it to the construction industry, where for every so many millions spent, there was an expected death rate. This argument was pretty flimsy, but actually became part of the official corporate rationale to justify the excessive violence of their events whenever an ocurance came to light because they were challenged and had to go to court.
Only women were permitted to fight in their rings in casinos around the world, which proved D-Ring Inc. was sexist, and although most fights really were extreme, word by gossips around the water cooler or at coffee had it that the final battle of any of their special spectaculars was always a fight to the death, and wasn't considered over until one of the fighters was killed. That seemed pretty outlandish to Hallie, but in a world where tits and ass were valued over brains and character in females, and where graphic blood and gore were justified on TV in everybody’s livingroom by making the program about solving crime, anything was possible.
Hallie didn't follow that kind of wanton immorality, but apparently the women who made it big in the business became quite famous, and willingly exposed themselves to such risk and depravity for really big money. Maybe intended killing was part of it, but that was probably just dreaming by people who wanted to dream about it. Some people Hallie knew thought it might be true, but the people at D-Ring Inc. played their cards close to the vest, and what people didn’t know wouldn’t hurt them.
The fight sport had evolved for women in the way that Demolition Derbies with old cars had evolved for men. Hallie's husband Brad, before he dumped her for an even younger model, had taken her to watch the car crash sport because he was an old muscle car fan, as he explained it. He said he liked the carnage these aging machines could do when properly restored and operated. She knew his attraction was mostly the hot chicks that were working the concessions, in the stands, around the pits and even in the cars. Deep inside her she realized witnessing the far too common severe injuries and even fatalities in the extreme risk sport turned on the prick.
She couldn't imagine what moved people to take part in a so-called sport in which someone could possibly die each weekend. In fact with six competitions in an afternoon, with eight cars in each and two in each car, there were on average four fatalities each weekend. That was what kept the stands packed. Those who took part were very well paid, and pointed out in interviews there was a 96% chance they wouldn't be killed. To Hallie that was the rationale of a warped mind. It had to be something else driving these daredevils.
The Demolition Derbies were all about risk, and now they were more dangerous than ever. Over the years all forms of safety were gradually abandoned in the interests of greater fan excitement, and at the same time risk factors were gradually increased by the organizers.
They were notorious for cutting most of the way through in several places on the car frame, particularly those protecting the driver; of souping up the engines; of putting in scantily-clad female passengers they called navigators, who wore only spike heels and micro bikinis; removing seat belts and doors to decrease protection and optimize the view for spectators; and sometimes welding in extra gas tanks in vulnerable locations.
Some more outrageous promoters even placed small explosive charges in critical parts of the cars beside those gas tanks, so that when a gas tank blew it would create more than fire, creating also a spectacular explosion. People loved fireworks. They claimed there was nothing more spectacular than a driver and near-naked woman covered with fuel being thrown from the car and sometimes burning to death. That's what they called Show Business.
An innovation that made it more likely deaths would occur started a decade earlier when one competitor welded half a dozen four foot spikes onto the front and back of his car to increase the damage and risk to occupants of cars that he struck. The next weekend every car at that arena was armed with variations of the same thing.
One driver mounted a ten foot lance onto his car, but it reduced his ability to maneuver, and the other drivers took the lesson to heart when he and his buxom blonde passenger were killed because their ability to get out of the way of charging cars was greatly reduced. That first guy got it right; four feet proved to be the optimum length for both front and rear spikes.
Like everyone else who packed the stadium dedicated to this deadly sport, her husband Brad attended regularly so that he would never miss the gruesome fatalities that almost always occurred. Death had become a commodity for sale, and it was regularly delivered for the entertainment of the crowd.
Deaths in this voilent sport were always accidental, of course; they were just a risk of the sport that the participants understood, and they all signed agreements to clearly say so. Hallie’s jaw dropped in disbelief when she found out the female navigators were auditioned by the promotors to ride aboard the rigged cars as nothing more than eye candy, with all the risks associated with the highly dangerous sport.
Hallie hated to see the participants injured or killed, but in all the times she went to the Derbies with Brad she only puked once, when a car backing off from ramming another on the passenger side had the nearly nude female navigator impaled on the spikes, amazingly kicking and screaming, since two of the spikes had driven right through her torso, and a third impaled one of her large breasts.
The screaming bitch was still kicking fifteen minutes later, despite the fact the movement of the car, still actively participating in the violent demolition sport, caused the shafts through her torso to gradually rip her so that she was leaking intestines when the car became total scrap from being rammed so often.
Most startling of all was that after the gruesome color pictures of the nearly nude young woman impaled on the deadly spikes had been printed on the front page of all the Tabloids, the next Monday more than three times as many gorgeous girls showed up in outrageously daring and revealing bikinis and heels to audition to ride in the Demolition Derby as navigators!
The bottoms of their micro-bikinis were usually nothing but slender strips or strings that did nothing to cover their cleanly-shaved vaginas or their rectums when they bent forward to display their friction-enhanced groins. There was no explaining what went on in the heads of girls with great bodies and no brains.
This kind of sport was no better than the killings in the ancient Roman Coliseum. Hallie had read about how the Romans put captive Christian women into the huge arena to fight nude against large carnivorous animals, armed only with wooden swords so that the valuable beasts would not be harmed. She couldn’t understand how ancient Romans could be entertained by women being ripped apart by wild animals, until she remembered they were the ancestors of Italians.
She had no use for Italian men because of a very bad experience with a high school boyfriend who, after losing a bet, held her while his Italian friends raped her, then one of them brought his big Neapolitan Mastiff, one of the biggest dogs in the world, to mount her. It was so disgusting, being force-fucked by a huge dog. These assholes had no respect for a girl!
Instead of fierce animals like the Romans used, the Demolition Derby promoters used dangerous cars in the arena, certain some participants could not survive, and It made her sick. It was also sometimes interesting. When she and Brad picked favorites and villains, she actually enjoyed some of the violence to those really mean drivers who they thought had it coming. She found that when the excessive violence was creative and justified it caught her interest, and although she was ashamed to admit it she had some sense of what Brad and the thousand who attended saw in it.
Of course the D-Ring fights were different, because she believed there was no skill required, like in preparing and driving a great car in the pit. From what she heard, which was not possible to confirm because it was all rumor, in the D-Ring fights it was just two bimbo broads going after each other, probably bare naked. She had seen the amateur nude fight videos on the net, and found them seedy and boring.
The only one that was interesting was one fought in a living room with all the furniture moved aside, where the girls had to force her opponent to pee to win the fight. They were fighting on wall-to-wall beige carpet, getting friction burns on their knees and elbows, and the carpet was urine-stained from several other previous fights. A few darker stains she assumed were blood. Hallie carefully read these papers that had been left for her. She knew what kind of world it had become, and realized this apparent ad might be for real. They had one thing right. Hate was one thing that would get her into the ring. There were more than a few women she would like to be able to really hurt, and doing it to them in a fight ring was a good way to get at them legally, without being arrested for assault.
Hallie didn't know anyone who went to these fights, probably attended by lower class people, and she had never been to them herself, so even with people watching, it would be pretty much private and between her and whoever her opponent might be. As she thought about this she felt a stirring in her loins. It would be really hot to do something so overtly sexual in front of people who drooled over her hot body. Hallie was not vain, and had little to be proud of in her life, but she was aware of the quality of her outstanding physique.
Thank you for posting this
Hallie had big plans for her life, and she wanted more than anything to become an important and famous journalist. That would teach Brad, who had put her into this position in the first place. The best revenge was to live well, and for her that meant becoming a successful and respected jornalist. Maybe she could start by writing about her experiences in the fight ring. She'd have to be careful about that, because these people were dancing on the edge of legality with this gambling on extreme female fights, and would likely sue her big time if they didn't like what she wrote.
Right now she had trouble meeting rent, and if they would also put her up for a while, while she got on her feet financially, that she could handle. Giving up her boarding house room with shared bathroom would be no problem, and she could also live with not having to pay for groceries, but to be on long-term contract meant you got dinged for lots of costs that would eat a big hole in your earnings. Of course it said they provided almost everything for you.
On the other hand, if she just went at it fight by fight there were no deductions from the prize money, and she would happily step into the ring with a few people she could think of for a $1,000. payoff. It would be humiliating to submit to some of the conditions, including being nude in public, but nobody she knew went to those fights, so it wasn't really public, just low-life gamblers.
It was only weird people and gamblers who went to the casinos, and most of them were probably more interested in winnings than in doing anything to sexy women. They just wanted to see women doing it to each other, hurting each other, and to get their rocks off getting glimpses of cunts and tits while making themselves big money from betting on the winner. She rationalized that doing this in front of low-life people wouldn’t necessarily make her low-life. She’d walk away with a big check, and leave the seediness in the casiono. She could handle that, for the kind of money they were offering.
Hallie had taken care of herself, and was blessed with a great body which she took care to keep in top trim. She couldn't afford a membership in a Training Club or gym, but she ran three times a week and played pick-up volleyball on the beach in summer. She also took really good care of her skin, pampering herself with the best creams available which she applied every night before she went to bed, and again when she got up in the morning.
Her skin was like a ten year old's, and glowed when she stepped out of the bath. Except for that horrid junior high school rape, for which her clothes had not been removed, she had never been seen nude except by Brad. She was not in the least ashamed of her body, and if everybody at the fights were strangers she saw no harm in showing herself off. The idea of getting gamblers excited and sexually stimulated was actually quite appealing. If all the D-Ring fighters were bare naked she could get used to it quickly.
She finished her sandwich and returned to her cubicle early. It looked like nobody was nearby. She hesitated a moment, then picked up the phone. She stood up and looked over the dividers to make sure nobody was able to listen to her, then dialed the number that was printed in several pages on the ourageous papers. ‘This is a great chance to get back at that Vivian bitch,' she thought. ‘If this thing is for real, I'll soon find out.'
"Good afternoon, D-RING Recruiting Department. How may I help you?" It was the pleasant voice of a mature woman, not some arrogant or stupid bimbo, as she had feared.
"I just saw your recruiting material, and was curious to know if its for real," she said, knowing from the woman's assured greeting that this was the real McCoy.
"When are you free for an appointment?" the woman asked, getting straight to business by taking her past the phase of asking if she wanted one. "I have an opening at 5:00 today, can you fill in the form and drop it by?"
Hallie hesitated, swallowing hard, wondering what the hell she was doing. She paused. "Maybe, Um-hum, I guess I could," she said. What's this? Do I really want to do this? "I can try to leave work a bit early," she said.
"We have a discrete office on the 17th floor of the Grain Exchange Building," the woman said, "which also houses a gym on the 2nd floor. You may want this appointment to be nobody else’s business. If you have a gym bag, anyone seeing you enter will believe you are going to work out, but if you don't have one handy, nobody will know the nature of your visit, since there are nearly eighty small companies in this building. Ours is located in 1701, and the sign on the door says D-Ring Binders and Closers. You'll also see that name on the lobby directory."
"Cute," said Hallie, "and thanks, really." These people were real professionals. Anyone wandering into the building would think they were in the business of making loose leaf binders for school and college kids. Smart.
"Because you may be here for a couple of hours, we'll have dinner prepared for you. What do you prefer, salmon, lamb or beef?"
"Beef would be great," she said. ‘My God,' she thought, ‘they really know how to make sure I don't back out.'
"Thank you, and who should we expect?"
"My name is Hallie Hart," she said. "That was my married name, and I still have it," she said. ‘Holy Hell, she thought, am I ever nervous! Listen to me ramble!' she thought. ‘I didn't have to volunteer that information.'
"Do you have access to a fax machine? It would help if you could fax over the application before you come."
"Yes, there's one here in my department. What is the number?"
The woman gave it to her and she wrote it on the ad. "We'll see you at 5:00 then," the woman said pleasantly. "Ask for Ms. Loretta de Coeur. Thank you for calling D-Ring. Our job is to create great opportunities for women willing to risk."
Putting the telephone down, Hallie sat back in her chair and sighed. What was she thinking? Letting them stuff a coarse tampon into her twat and another up her bum! That's what it said on the ad. That was phat. These people really pushed the limits, right in your face from the get-go. The only conciliation was that bitch Vivian would have to undergo the same humiliation.
How would she get the bitch to take part? She read through the papers again, paying careful attention every word now that she knew they were genuine, and saw once again just above where she was to fill in her personal information the offer to take care of that part for her. They made the same offer in bold type at the bottom of the same page. All she had to do was identify the bitch Vivian. They would take care of the rest and reel her in.
That's probably how it always happened. She couldn't believe what she had just done, and it excited her. The ad menitoned all kinds of kinky businesses they had, all of them suggesting extreme violence and worse for the professional ladies who took part. As an amature she was in control of what happened, but it really got serious, if the names of their branch fight companies meant anything.
She really hated Vivian enough to do this. Ever since Brad had left her for that bitch she had wanted to hurt her somehow for destroying her life. She wasn't sure she could go through with it, with the photos and the crowd and everything. What if the people she had to deal with were cold and hard and not caring? She couldn't believe that was true, because of the nice woman who answered the phone.
But she was probably just a recruiter, not one of the people that made the fighters do what they had to do. It all came down to the fact that she really wanted to hurt that bitch Vivian, and let people see it so the stupid cunt would be really humiliated. She would hurt the big breasted bitch in a way that she always remembered. Forever. She did her audition, passed with flying colors, and before leaving did an outrageous nude photo session to provve she was serious.
Just after lunch she was debating calling Ms. Loretta to see how things were coming when the phone rang. It was Brad.
"Vivian's disappeared," he said, worried.
"What's that got to do with me?" she asked. She could hardly contain her excitement. It looked like the wheels were turning, and she would get her fight after all, and soon.
"The cops have been around asking questions, and I think they suspect me of something, maybe murder!" His voice was shaky, and Hallie was glad he could not see her smile of genuine satisfaction. Maybe that would teach him for dumping her for that eighteen-year-old blonde bitch with the big boobs.
"What did you do to her?" she asked, "Did you beat her? I remember how you hit me when you were drunk. Has she run away?"
"Hell no," he said, "We're in love, and I've never hit her. Don't you ever tell anyone I hit you or you'll be very sorry!" He paused. "Viv just didn't come home yesterday, and I'm worried sick. I don't know what's happened to her, maybe something terrible. This is not like her."
"Don't come crying to me, asshole," she said, and slammed down the phone, just for effect. The prick was getting exactly what he deserved, and if Vivian didn't ever show up, maybe he really would be charged with murder. That would serve the prick right. One thing she knew for certain was that when the cunt surfaced she would be severely beaten, because she would take care of that. She would make it very personal, and very very hurtful! When nobody believed Vivian’s bizarre story about what happened to her, maybe Brad would take the wrap for that.
The telephone rang again.
"I don't know where Vivian is," she screamed into it.
"I do," said the voice she found so comforting.
"Oh, I'm sorry, Ms. Loretta, I thought it was Brad. He just called me and is taking heat for Vivian's disappearance."
"That's how our people set it up, leaving just enough evidence to point to him."
"That's great!" Hallie said. "He has no regard for women; he's just after whatever they can offer him." She had a delayed reaction to what she had just heard. "Won't Vivian be going home after, I mean when she agrees to fight me, or at least after we've had our fight?"
Now Ms. Loretta paused. "No, I've met with her, and although she doesn't know it yet, she has some exciting potential for our purposes. You did well in nominating her. I think she could make a very good fighter, so we plan to make her an offer similar to the one I want to make you. There is justice, my dear. I have some very good news for you. Why don't you come by."
"When would be good?" she asked, excitement rising.
"Right away would be fine. Our law department would like to talk to you about the legal arrangements, paperwork and the like. Then if you'd like, I can recommend we bypass the qualifying through a novice fight, although of course you can have yours, but we can sign you up to a full contract as fully qualified, if you like.
You showed us at your audition you know how to handle yourself and be a great entertainer. By the way, I saw your photos and they are terrific. You look wonderful in front of the cameras. You have a gift, my dear, and can become a major star in our business if that suits you. You will make a great deal of money, and quite quickly. Come on down and let's talk."
Hallie was too excited to take a bus, and instead spent most of her remaining cash on a taxi. The driver gave her a hard look. “Do you do internet porno?” he asked her, fixing his gaze on her until she answered.
"Yes, I do fight photos," she said, playing to his expectations, "Lethal fights. Nude. Brutal fights to the death. D-Ring fights. Would you like to get it on?" She surprised herself with her open assertiveness.
"Sure, lady, you think I want my nuts kicked?" He turned and got back to his business, but she saw him checking her in the rear view mirror. He was not sure whether or not to believe her, but she had been specific, and his memory of the photos he had seen in the past few days was still vivid. Hallie returned his stare, winked at him, and enjoyed his curiosity.
In twelve minutes she was under escort by a security guard, in the elevator an on her way to 1701.
"You look happy, young lady," the guard said. "You look like you've been offered a great new job."
"Better than you can imagine," she replied, then realized the guard knew the true business of D-Ring binders, and who the women who visited were. Only recruits would come here. Those that looked nervous were coming for an audition, and those with a smile and firm step had been granted a fight.
"That's terrific," he said, "I wish you good luck and a long life in your new career."
He really did know about their business! As soon as she entered reception Gloria with the big knockers, another even shorter skirt and the indrecible walk took her to the legal department, and left her with a pair of lawyers. They talked about big money, dropped some big figures, then more talk about money, prospects, security, and protection.
It was nothing specific, but it impressed the hell out of the excited and desperate girl. They also had a ream of papers for her to sign, and she gave up reading just half way through the first page. What she read said exactly what she understood, and she was too excited to waste time reading legal talk for common sense.
When she was finished signing and initialing the dozen pages provided to her and was about to return to the reception area, one of the lawyers said "We'll need your keys, Ms. Hart."
"What for?" she asked.
"Now that we have full and enduring power of attorney, we will need to clean out your little room. You will be living in our Combatants Community facility from now on.
"No, there's some misunderstanding, I'm just doing the novice fight with Vivian. And then maybe a few more, but nothing long term."
"You can discuss that with Ms. Loretta, but we will need your keys for now." Her purse was on his desk, and before she could reach it he had it. He removed the key chain, then passed her purse to his associate, who removed her wallet, which contained her credit cards and all personal identification. He gave the keys to another associate who was out the door before she could argue. She was escorted back to the lobby, and Gloria took her directly into Ms. Loretta's office.
"There you are, my dear," said the matronly woman. "You've caused quite a stir around here with your talent and remarkable photographs."
"These lawyers think I'm long term, and I definitely am not. I want to do a few fights, but just until I get back on my feet."
"We will be delighted to give you more fights, dear, as long as you perform well. The gamblers are quite fickle, but with your obvious talent I believe you've got lots of great-paying fights in your future." She paused a moment. "You don't want to prove me wrong. We also have some great new photo shoots planned for you, if you're interested. Remember, you get a pay raise every month."
"What about all those travel costs that get deducted?"
"Well, I can assure you we have no travel plans for you in the near future. In fact, if that's all you're worried about, I think we have a deal."
"I need to think about it before I make that kind of commitment," Hallie said. They've got my keys and all my personal stuff. What do they need those for?"
"Now that the papers are all done, you can take the time you need. We have a long term agreement with you in writing," Ms. Loretta said, ignoring her question. "Combatant's don't get near the ring unless they are informed and give full consent, unless of course their opponent gives consent for them by signing the form, which has passed the test in a number of trial cases. It is all consensual, and no further burden of proof is necessary.
For example, the papers you signed this afternoon include your consent for an accidental kill in any of our events, whether you are victim or victor. Its not that we expect you to kill Vivian in your first fight, or for her to kill you; we need your signature on file just as a precaution. When we're working with rage we can't very well prevent a combatant from getting carried away, and the gamblers expect and encourage them to do just that. If we didn't have a bulletproof defense for what happens in our rings, just by killing you, your opponent would be killing us.
“Or of course if there is one of these accidents in one of your fights, you might be the one to kill her. Taking us, a multi-billion dollar international operation, down for that one indiscretion would be totally unjust, particularly when our gambling clients expect they will likely see a death in the ring as part of every evening's entertainment. Our world-wide operations are so vast that there are many such sporting kills in the ring every night, but it is just a matter of scale, and each sport killing is treated like an individual case of unfortunate happenstance.
"Like they say in the movies, sometimes shit happens. We have of course taken that idea a step further to make it quite likely it will happen, and often. We also provide all kinds of stimulation, both psychological and chemical, to ensure our participants enjoy the fighting and sometimes killing as much as the gamblers in the audience do."
"I see what you mean," Hallie said, realizing for the first time how serious this whole business was. This was a very professional business, and these people covered the angles to protect their investments. "What you're saying is that I would not be held responsible if I accidentally killed my opponent."
"That's right, dear. Or even if you did it on purpose, which could never be proven in court. How can we know your intentions? Now that you have signed the consent, it also means we are not responsible. Even if an opponent kills you. Which, of course, is unlikely, because we are not currently asking you to engage in the ultimate solution fights, but once in the ring, as you now know, you are completely on your own; we can't do much to protect either you or your opponent.
With referees no longer used, once you step into the ring you are truly on your own. If in beating your opponent senseless you become so stimulated you actually beat her to death, well, that's the nature of the fight game, isn't it. We could hardly call it extreme fighting if you were not expected to take it to the extreme."
There a heavily armored truck, the kind used to take money to and from banks, awaited them. The safe-like back doors were open, and inside were eleven women, six of them nude, hanging from ceiling hooks like sides of beef, their feet swinging above the floor. Bungee cords bound their legs together, and Hallie was lifted up and bound in place to make it an even dozen. They waited, and four more, including Vivian, were brought up, one by one, and tied in place. The doors to the van were slammed shut and the heavy vehicle with its precious load started to move.
The women swung freely as the truck turned, started or stopped, but they had sufficient room that they did not bang into the walls or each other hard enough to bruise, and they were bound in a way that made it impossible to purposefully hurt each other. Hallie understood the need for high security, but was too focused on the beating she planned to give Vivian to feel too much about being hauled like a side of meat to the D-Ring Casino to perform.
Her arrival to the indoor loading dock swinging by her wrists inside an armored vehicle was in stark contrast to the arrival by limosine of the excited fight fans she had witnessed just a few nights before. The excitement she was experiencing was different, because what she was feeling was the anticipation of the adrenalin-filled combatants, who were about to give the audience the bloody violence they had come to see. Hallie was confident she was ready.
She vowed to herself she would coat the canvas with Vivian’s blood. It was clear to her that Vivian was just as excited, having been fully trained to want her fight. It was going to be great! She was going to get to beat the living crap out of that filthy whore, and make a mess of that gorgeous face in the process!
The women had been loaded into the highly secured Business Woman transport vehicle in the reverse order of their appearance in the ring. The last two aboard were a pair of pretty young teens, stocky teenage jocks, a pretty blonde and a serious looking auburn-haired beauty who according to the handlers were to be the audience warm-up act prior to Hallie and Vivian's preliminary round. They looked much younger than Hallie was certain they must be. They looked like fresh elementary school graduates, far too young to be part of D-Ring, and certainly had no ring experience.
These young girls were taken off first, and when Hallie and Vivian were taken into the dressing room, the two girls stood naked, and they had just the beginning rise of flesh instead of developed breasts. Their legs were spread as they were held in an awkward position by their handlers, their pelvises rotated forward as a doctor injected a thick liquid into their pubic mounds, skillfully enlarging and firming the lips of their hairless vaginas for enhanced visibility. These two had clearly not had a visit to the organ sculpor. They were getting a short-term enhancement that would outlast their time in the ring tonight.
Hallie and Vivian were too stoked up to be bothered too much at the moment about the death of the young girl. After all, they hadn’t seen it happen, and didn’t know those youg girls anyway. They were both ready and anxious to go, but the tunnel was blocked, pending the sound of the buzzer announcing the gamblers had placed their preliminary bets and everything was ready for their presentation.
Hallie was surprised at the level of anxiety she felt, then realized it must be an effect of the shot she had been given. It probably contained adrenalin, and perhaps some mood altering drugs as well. She felt a fury rising inside her, and was straining against her handlers when at last the buzzer rang.
The walk down the long tunnel seemed to take forever. Hallie wanted to run. Running would not be a good idea in these spiked heels. She knew she would put the pointed toes to good use. Vivian was held back until Hallie had entered the ring. Like implied in the title, the ring was D shaped, and the flat side was not ropes but instead a thick translucent Plexiglas wall, protecting a pair of close-up television cameras.
The Plexiglas was perfectly clear, except for some small spots of blood splattered onto it from the previous bout. Hallie looked around the casino-theatre-arena at the cheering crowd. The place was opulently appointed, and topless cocktail and bet taking waitresses were evident everywhere. When they passed by the ring Hallie was surprised to see the attractive, well endowed waitresses were also bottomless.
Until the bout actually started, the gamblers could still place bets, and many of them were waiting to see the nude amateur combatant girls in the ring before choosing a favorite. Hallie posed and postured as she had been directed to do in her photo shoot, and the crowd loved it. She stood facing the ropes, spread her long gorgeous legs, grabbed the post and pulled hard, causing her breasts to bunch on her chest and her pelvis to rotate, displaying her no longer private parts to their full extent, then spread her swelled vagina for them like a real professional whore. Nobody would guess from watching her that this young woman was a rank and untried amateur.
Another cheer announced the arrival of Vivian in the ring behind her. Hallie spun around, and was struck by the beauty of her opponent. The spotlight illuminated her blonde hair, and her tits appeared to be firmer than Hallie remembered them. Had the doctor shot some of his special goo into her tits to firm them up? Vivian was a great looking broad, and would make an even better looking victim.
This was really nothing but a fancy meat market, and Vivian was definitely going to be the meat. At that moment she decided she would make the cunt a target for the doctor's pistol. There was no need for Vivian to take part in another bout; the husband-stealing cunt was totally disposable, and she was up to the task.
Before Vivian could do a routine to arouse the crowd, a man stepped into the ring. He wore a formal tux jacket with tails, a top hat, black leggings, patent leather shoes and no pants. He sported a raging erection, and held over his head a sign that said ROUND 1 AND ONLY. It meant there would be no breaks during the battle that was about to start. It would continue until there was a clear winner, with one of these two ladies beaten unconscious by the other.
As the man thrust the sign repeatedly upward while turning to show the sign to everyone, he ejaculated, spurting hot jism into the air that spashed onto the blood-stained canvas. It was the first time Hallie noticed that as well as the fresh stains, there were extensive old blood stains on the canvas, reminding spectators that this was truly a blood-sport casino. In places the heavy canvas was crusted with it, so that it powdered into a brownish rising dust when the MC stamped his feet.
The man took out his red poof from the pocket and bent over to wipe up his spilled semen, as if the combatants were in danger of slipping on it in the heat of battle. This drew a laugh from the crowd, and Hallie saw the topless waitresses scurrying to collect last minute bets from the packed house of gamblers. Suddenly there was a shrill buzzer that marked the close of betting on this bout. The handlers climbed out of the ring but held the combatants to keep them apart while the ring announcer introduced them, the mike he had taken from his jacket pocket amplifying his voice over the PA.
"Ladies and Gentlemen, meet and greet our novice team, a pair of very lovely young ladies who have never appeared in a fight ring before. In the beige corner, wearing the beige shoes with auburn hair, the vivacious challenger from the diminishing city of Flint, where since the closing of the GM plant, prostitution is now the number one industry, Miss Flossie Ho!"
Hallie knew she was going to be given a stage name, but she was enraged at the insult. She was also pissed off she was introduced as the challenger. She had caused this fight to happen, done the audition, and nominated Vivian. Her angry response of thrusting her middle finger into the air was mistaken for a statement of how she was about to treat her opponent. She knew that the audience already had these stage names because they would be printed in the program, along with a lewd photo of each of them.
Otherwise the gamblers would have no basis on which to place early bets, since these lovely novices had no track record. She wondered what kind of poses Vivian had done for the photographers. Probably something really obscene, like a with a dildo stuffed in each hole. Or maybe the dicks of a pair of young studs.
"And in the red corner, wearing the red shoes and with beautiful blonde hair, Miss Ho's mortal enemy who has accepted the invitation to return the beating offered, from the South Side of Chicago, where this lovely young lady moved from a veterinary clinic where she practiced animal husbandry to be an entertainer at a sex bar, where she practiced animal wifery, copulating with horny hounds for the entertainment of the patrons, the gorgeous and equally vivacious Miss Delia Doggie Doo Doo. Miss Ho irreverently calls calls Miss Doo Doo Miss Doggieshit!"
The audience roared with laughter, and at that instant the handlers released the raging novice combatants. The MC quickly exited the ring as Hallie charged across the ring, and was met head on by Vivian. They slammed into each other in full flight, and immediately grabbed at each other while each delivered a rapidly raised knee to the naked groin of the other. Their was a splat sound as the knees encountered and slammed into moist swollen cunt-meat. Hallie tried to hook an ankle behind Vivian's leg to force her off balance, but with one foot off the ground, the spike heeled shoe she stood on gave her insufficient support, and Vivian brought her crashing down onto her back.
The young blonde bitch straddled her and began pounding her fists into Hallie's face. Hallie drove her fists hard up into Vivian's big tits, making the blonde scream in pain. Hallie could feel the moist vulva of her enemy pressing against her belly, and thought of Brad's cock plunging to its depth into her warm damp cock holster. She hated the bitch, particularly because of her using that cunt she could now feel to make Brad prefer her to his wife. She had to make this bitch pay, and could not do that lying on her back.
With her knees raised and wide-spread, Hallie made a huge effort to heave, and by raising her hips as far as she could, managed to move the blonde bitch forward on her. She quickly raised her legs high, and managed to get her ankles crossed around the blonde bitch's neck. She squeezed as hard as she could to cut off Vivian's air, then jerked her legs downward, pulling the bitch over backward. Now Vivian's groin was right in Hallie's face. She grabbed the opportunity and dug her teeth into the exposed swollen vulva, the sex pit that had given Brad comfort, and clamped her teeth down in the salty feminine meat as hard as she could.
Vivian attempted to buck her hips to free her vagina from the grip of Hallie's teeth, but the auburn haired beauty held firm, tasting blood which she knew was not her own. The fight was going well for Hallie at the moment, but was far from over. It was necessary to make the bitch suffer. She kept her legs locked around Vivian's neck, jerking them hard to cut the blood supply to the bitch's brain, if she had one.
She did. Vivian felt her face going beet red, and made a desperate move. She started to piss. The spray went directly into Hallie's throat, and now the young woman apparently in control was in danger of drowning on her enemy's urine. Amber piss splashed in volume from the corners of Hallie's mouth, and the audience caught on to what was happening, roaring their approval.
Hallie's legs around Vivian's throat also pinned her arms, but her own arms were free. She started pounding on Vivian's stretched tummy with all her might, hurting her, but the piss continued to flow. At last Hallie was forced to abandon the grip of her teeth on Vivian's cunt, and she violently coughed up piss that was entering her lungs. Vivian was now able to roll, but Hallie's leg hold remained firm, and she managed to twist around to get her tummy out of the way of those fists. This maneuver put her face directly in line with Hallie's cunt. She took immediate hold of the situation, and dug her teeth into the woman meat as firmly as Hallie had grasped hers.
Vivian's vulva was still within easy reach, and having partially cleared her bronchial tubes of urine, Hallie once more sunk her teeth viciously into the bleeding vagina. She started rocking as Vivian bucked, and ignoring the pain in her own organ, managed to roll onto her side, getting the weight of the bitch off her. They each had a vice lock with their jaws on the other's cunt, but Hallie had now got into the position where piss would not drown her.
She wrestled the slightly taller but lighter woman onto her back so that she took for herself the dominant position. Vivian increased her powerful biting action on her vagina, causing sharp pain to stab through her groin. Demonstrating both strength and determination, Hallie bit back with equal vigor, and now mimicked what had happened to her and started pissing, filling Vivian's mouth and throat with hot acrid liquid which she could not expel. This caused Vivian to cough violently, and it was clear she had breathed as the fresh urine gushed into her mouth, drawing some of it painfully into her lungs.
Ms. Loretta sat in one of the organization's box seats, taking careful notes. She had seen a lot of novice fights in her time at D-Ring, but this was one of the best she could remember. Whichever of these young ladies triumphed, she would put her into the veteran fights. Although neither had formal fight training, both had excellent instincts, which the audience appreciated.
Best of all, if both were able she would schedule a rematch, and definitely bill it a feature-act death fight, requiring a kill. The other women fighting tonight would have a tough time matching the action these novices were giving them. She picked up her cell phone, speed dialed the doctor and instructed him to double the shots he gave the girls yet to enter the ring.
She knew that double dosing the amount of adrenalin they administered to the fighters would increase the chance of a heart attack, but these were healthy young women in the prime of life, and the double dosage would make the action absolutely frenetic. At the tempo the bitches in the ring fought, a heart attack would appear to be one the women being naturally beaten by her foe, and the audience would think it was a spectacular ring kill, since the one not affected would certainly continue to attack.
If one of these two novices in the ring killed the other, it would be fabulous. No matter how this violent battle between these innovative novices ended, they had created an atmosphere that was certainly to double the gambling take for the evening.
Beyond the headliner death fight for tonight, probably more than one of the other combatants on the evening's bill would be killed in the ring because of the extra frenzy of action the extra dosage she ordered for them would bring, but ring kills made the audience more satisfied, and the loss of life for of a couple more of the gorgeous young fighting ladies was a small price to pay for the huge wagering these matches would produce. When a preliminary novice round was as good as this one was proving to be, the gamblers’ apetite was whetted, and the betting more than doubled for subsequent bouts. Recruiting was going very well, and a few additional ring deaths would be more than worth the trouble.
Any girls killed where deaths were not scheduled could easily be replaced at quite a reasonable cost. In the final reckoning, a few extra violent deaths in the ring were always extremely good for business. Like the visionary founder of D-Ring Inc. had said, with nearly five billion females in the world, life was cheap, but death was rich.
Having experienced the same desperation Vivien was now going through, Hallie knew exactly what to do. Locking her jaw on the organ in her mouth, she violently ripped her head back, and came away with a large piece of Vivian's foreskin in her teeth. Blood spurted from a small vein that had been severed. Hallie sat upright, continuing to piss into Vivian's mouth while she drove her fists in a flurry of violent punches into her young blonde enemy's ribs. The pounding proved effective. She could feel some snapping under her fists with the severity of her blows, and encouraged, she hammered rapid blows of her fists into those damaged ribs with all her might.
Then she move her attention to the solar plexus, bruising the blonde bitch's diaphragm, compromising the young girl's ability to breathe. With the flood of urine she was desperately swallowing to keep from drowning, Vivian was in desperate danger of losing the battle. Hallie sat bolt upright to put her full weight on the blonde's face, limiting breathing through her mouth, and pressing the cunt's nose flat so that the bitch was unable to intake air.
When Vivian at last ceased to struggle and slumped, Hallie leapt to her feet and started kicking her downed foe's ribs, systematically bruising them and cracking a few more with the sharp toe of her shoe. Then she gave her some severe kicks to the kidneys, and finally dropped onto her again, this time pummeling her face to give the now unconscious cunt severely blackened eyes. Having got satisfaction in victory, she wanted the bitch to crawl home to Brad, now as badly damaged goods, knowing he would reject her.
The scream of the crowd was so loud that it drown out her thoughts. All she felt was a total ecstasy. She knew in the morning she would hurt like hell, but tonight she was the champion, and in the process of hammering the shit out of Vivian, she had earned herself a thousand dollars, with guarantees of much more to come. Hallie felt like a true champion!
“Obtaining international females of any race has never been a problem for us. Chinese little girls are available for the cost of transportation, since there is such an incredible surplus of young girls, due to the law restricting Chinese couples to one child per family, and girls are considered of much less value than boys.
When a woman comes to term and delivers a second child, it must be done surreptitiously, and we have taken control of an agency that secretly helps them dispose of the surplus new little family members. To cover the costs, we have the woman or girl give birth on a small stage in front of a small select paying audience. Looking to the future, we have quietly set up facilities resembling rudimentary orphanages, and permit single mothers to keep their illicit offspring if they will work as wet nurses and otherwise work as staff in these secret facilities, which we have established throughout China.
Of course we easily convert these select young women into full-time breeding stock, regularly impregnating them to keep their breasts coming fresh. With hormone treatments we have reduced the gestation period to just over seven months, while the teenage ladies produce full size infants in that period. Within three weeks we have them pregnant again, and the hormones we give them also produce more than 97% female offspring.
The aggressive hormone treatments we give the children have the little girls producing breasts when they enter puberty as young as eight. We use the breeding program to produce interesting hybrids by mounting imported studs of another race on our human b rood-mares. The program is working well, and we now have an impressive inventory of available young people for use in our casinos wherever their use is not a threat to the organization, which now comprises nearly half the globe.
“A breeder will produce a fresh baby every eight months, or three every two years. This is very hard on their young bodies, so a breeder is only useful to us for four or five years. When it is time to retire her, these breeders become fighting stock, usually in special “last cunt standing” gang fights in special fight pits.
These group or mob fights are very popular in the backwoods cities of China. The ladies enter the fight pit stripped naked, their bodies shaved clean, with their hair held up in a tight bun on top of their heads so that the audience can appreciate all wounds, no matter where they occur. All of these pretty young chink ladies, most of them still in their teens, are armed with the same traditional weapon, which is a five inch wooden handle with a short blade protruding from each end. They grasp one of these in each hand, so they go into the pit armed only with offensive, not defensive weapons.
“There is complete anarchy in the pit, and these desperate chink women, wound up to a fever pitch with hysterical screaming matches before the fight, become so aggressively violent that the first kills usually occur early in an event. As the pile of slashed bodies builds, so does the level of desperate fighting.
They mercilessly slash each other on the breasts, face, back, belly, buttocks, arms and legs so severely that before long they are all covered in blood, both their own and some sprayed on them from severe wounds of others. It’s all quite exciting, and the screaming audience usually drowns out the screams of the participants.
“Because it is a last cunt standing fight, only one woman survives, and her surprise reward is to sit on top of the heap of female carcasses and disembowel herself. The Chinese love to watch self-evisceration as much as their Japanese neighbors.
These local fights don’t raise big money, but are economic in a country where there is virtually no value to a life. Nothing is wasted. The carcasses are boiled to remove the flesh for fertilizer, and the bones are then ground and added as filler in concrete. The Chinese know that everything is useful.”
“For the fight in the pit aboard our private Miami fight ship the two teenage girls had their arms bound together back to back, so they could not see each other. An airplane engine complete with propeller was placed on a stand in the large ring, and once the engine was started the object of the competition was to push the opponent into the rapidly spinning blade, without getting into it yourself."
"That's really devious!" Hallie said. "I love it!"
"Needless to say, the gorgeous little blonde won. I didn't see it, but heard the other girl's blood and brains were splattered all over the stands and the ceiling. The two teens were well matched. They fought hard. It took more than 15 minutes to reach the ultimate conclusion, and the audience was thrilled with the outcome. More than three million were wagered on that event, and most of the money was placed on the loser, so the Casino did extremely well. The big ring has no Plexiglas protection for the audience, and I understand more than 50 expensive gowns and tuxedos were destroyed by the widely distributed gore in that event. Nobody complained. I understand most of those affected kept their costumes, and many had them framed without being cleaned.
"I don't know any details of how her fights went in the Orient, but our beautiful blonde heroine completed her career with us at a new casino in Hawaii, or rather through the casino. Of course a kill there would not normally be tolerated, but as you know, at the secret private parties anything and everything goes. She was invited to swim in a large pool at a private estate, with only the owner and half a dozen guests present, as well as two service girls we provided. One of those present was his wife, and another his young mistress. They had been told to watch out because there might be a terrible accident, but no one other than the host had any idea what to expect. There were two of his close friends and their girlfriends, and our small but efficient service staff. My associate I assigned to that project gave me a full debriefing of the event.
“The nude blonde had been prepared ever since her second fight to be a true show girl, with her pubic mound enlarged to optimize its appearance in the ring, her full clit hood expanded and thrusting out, and her vagina lips somewhat distended, to make everything not only visible but to give the impression she was sexually aroused. In addition she had undergone in the past three weeks a special injection therapy to her chest that amazingly grew her an impressive set of natural looking over-sized breasts with elongated nipples the size of my little finger.
She wore only a pair of perfectly fitting spike-heeled shoes, which clacked as she strode assertively on the marble deck beside the pool, and she was immediately the center of attention. All of the guests were nude on the deck beside the large swimming pool on his estate, enjoying large glasses of sangria and the men the sexual attention of young women we had provided to service their erections in their well-educated mouths.
“Now the host's wife, mistress and the two young female guests of his friends knew the owner of the large villa had kinky tastes, and that the accident they had been warned might happen would probably harm this sexy blonde subject, but they had no idea what was coming. There were three video cameramen stationed strategically, as well as a pair of female still photographers who had been hired to document any accident that took place. We had provided them, because of the discretion we guaranteed.
“After moving among the guests displaying herself with provocative spreading of her open vagina and posturing in obscene poses for their enjoyment, the gorgeous blonde subject, who's life the host had bought for eight thousand dollars, stepped out of her shoes and dove into the pool and swam around waiting for an opponent to appear. While she waited she swam on her back and displayed her genitals and large perky breasts in the manner we had trained her to do to the appreciative observers. As she postured she did not see an underwater gate open at the far end of the pool, nor did she see three large barracuda swim into the pool. I heard from my associate that the beautiful young woman put up a remarkable fight, but it was no contest against the carnivorous fish in their own element.
“The audience was shocked, and watched silently as the three lethal fish, one at a time, struck the thrashing nude. They ripped pieces out of her limbs and sides, and then opened her tummy. The gorgeous blonde nude was dead meat long before she actually died. The pool was soon pink with her blood, and then strewn with her viscera as the three deadly fish pulled the beautiful bitch apart, feasting on her most succulent parts.
"This was show business at its best. The men were all openly masturbating, and the women vomiting. Only the host’s pretty young mistress seemed to be getting into the horror she was witnessing at close hand. 'You like that, cunt?' the host asked, and she smiled and nodded. She had traveled with him on business trips and he had taken her with him to several of our casinos. The young mistress toot ‘cunt’, the only name he called her, to be a compliment, like a term of endearment, since there was little other choice. She had learned to enjoy the violence to women she so regularly witnessed, as long as she was just a spectator. That changed in an instant.
Without hesitation he pushed her into the pool. With the sharp splash of her entry and her shocked scream the three barracuda turned their attention to her, and within seconds the first one hit her, ripping most of one of her large breasts free in its jaws. Another struck her buttocks as she flailed helplessly, screaming for help. She was near the side of the pool, and the host took a pistol from a basket on a poolside table and put a bullet into her thigh. The third barracuda hit her back, ripping out a substantial chunk of muscle. The host put a second bullet into her groin beside her vulva. He was not attempting to kill her; the vicious fish with their sharp teeth and powerful jaws would take care of that.
“All of the women screamed, and as another barracuda grabbed her hip in its jaws and ripped out enough to reveal her internal pack of guts, they all vomited again in unison. The wife of one of the guests was the next nude woman pushed into the pool of carnage, and her husband took his turn shooting her in non-lethal places as the big fish ripped open her meat, and then the other guest's wife was added to the bloody soup, and he also took turns putting bullets into her meat while the fish were charged with the more deadly work.
“At last the host's wife was added to the pool of horror, and in less that twenty minutes the water was stained crimson with so many quarts of spilled blood, and the surface was floating with the nude ripped female bodies and yards of entrails involuntarily contributed by the four dead woman and the beautiful young blonde girl."
"That would have been so cool to see!" Hallie said, clearly aroused by the description of carnage.
"Some of those Arab women are spectacular,” one of them said. “We won't see any of them here to entertain, not with an Arab Sheik as our host. D-Ring has a ton of them, but they know where and where not to use them, particularly for these private snuff shows with an Arab client. God, I'd love to see one of those gorgeous young olive-skinned Arab cunts being done. As well as being bloody gorgeous, they are also really arrogant. For a nickel I'd help do it if I could have my dick down her throat while I did it!"
"Funny you should mention. I was in one of the D-Ring casinos during a swing through the Far East, I think it was in Singapore; I'd stopped at 3 or 4 of their casinos on that trip. Things are a bit looser in that region, and in the D-Ring's casinos in South East Asia, none of the fights is over until there has been a kill. If the winner refuses to off her opponent, a big sumo wrestler puts them both on the mat, sits on them squeezing the shit out of them, literally, and then the announcer steps in and puts a bullet through both of their heads.
Asians really go for heartless terminal violence. When they say all the way they mean all the way! They have no use for any cunt who refuses to play hard and dirty. Anyway, after watching some chinks and niggers and Italians doing each other in, the feature fight was between a couple of gorgeous young Arab chicks just like you describe. They couldn't have been more than 15 years old, either of them. Maybe younger. Hell, with these dark Indians maturing early, even with those tits and figures they could have been 12 or 13. They both had slender hips, as the very young ones do. There's no lower age limit for this terminal stuff in most of the Far East.
“Both nudes were incredibly beautiful. One of them was definitely Type B, laid back and cunning with a look in her eye that convinced me to bet on her to win. "I've seen my share of fights like the one these two had, but none nearly as good. It went on for nearly an hour. The shorter of the two cunts, the one I had backed, had her hair up, held with a clasp, and during most of the fight she took a lot of abuse. When she got desperate and thought she was going to be defeated, she pulled the clasp off to use as a weapon.
It was incredible. She got her improvised weapon up into her opponent's cunt, ripped the gorgeous bitch right up to the sternum, then gutted the screaming beauty alive. Guts, organs, everything. She pulled everything she could out of the bitch, totally eviscerating her. She must have really hated that bitch for some reason. These D-Ring people really know how to make the cunts get it on with each other. I had twenty grand on her, and most of the betting had gone the other way, so I won big time."
"That's incredible! Have you heard what they have teed up for tonight?"
"No, but I hear they have a special birthing competition between a trio of pregnant ladies who are ready to drop their sprogs, set up for sometime this week, I just don't know which night. I've never seen pregnant cunts compete, but it sounds interesting. D-Ring has a casino that uses only pregnant cunts in their competitions. They call the operation ‘Nine Months Inducements’ or something like that. I’ve got to get there to see what its all about. They have an English woman, a Kiwi and a Canadian here, I heard. They all look American to me. I can't tell any of them apart, unless you get them to talk. In these shows they usually just scream, and that's a universal language! I also heard our host plans to show the film he made last year of his prize stallion . . . "
"You got it. Anyway, he has this great film of his favorite stallion fucking a big beautiful Swedish woman to death at his estate in Germany."
"Damn, I'm looking forward to that one. The beast must have crushed her to death, or else ripped her"
"Not at all. Her cunt was big enough to take the stallion's thickness, but its length into a human womb, I don't think so.
The vagina on any woman will stretch, because that's what it's designed to do, like childbirth really extends it, but the cunt on even the biggest woman is not long enough to take the extra length a horse has if it drives right into her. Her uterus is in the way. This animal’s dong was more than 3 inches thick and 22 inches long!
The bench that this big bitch lay on for the mounting of her was specially designed with both the stallion and the woman's dimensions carefully measured to ensure she would not be crushed. Crushing them first really ruins a bestial show-fuck for me, ‘cause I’m not into the necro thing, and crushing usually kills the cunt right away. I saw the video a couple of months ago when I visited Saudi Arabia, and the Sheik had me over. He was really proud of it, and gave me a private screening.
“Once the horse's shaft was into the big Swedish cunt, it just kept on thrusting deeper and deeper into the screaming bitch, and her uterus was not capable of sustaining the hammering it took. It's a delightful piece of work. The stallion's cock rammed right through the uterus and on up into her guts. The gorgeous lady's abdominal cavity was filled with horse cum. The huge cock probably reached right up to her heart.
One camera was trained on a close-up of her face the whole time, and for most of the film they inserted a box on the upper right of the screen so you can see how she reacts to insertion and each brutal internal thrust. Her eyes were bulging most of the time, and when her cervix split her screams were reduced to tight high squeals. It was really a spectacular bitch kill. I'm looking forward to seeing it played again. The Sheik's production staff makes great snuff films!"
"And they say the Arabs don't understand culture!" They laughed again. These men were racist, and Hallie understood that and ultra-conservative views came with wealth.
"I've seen some great snuff films, but this is my first time here and I've never been to a D-Ring casino, never seen a live fight to the death. Bit of an oxymoron, eh? Is that what the Sheik has planned for tonight?" one of the men asked.
"That's why he brought in D-Ring," his friend explained, "because they're the best at the female sports where ring kills are the objective. They have a huge stable of incredible cunts, and they put them through their paces with a series of fights until they show the killer instinct, which they develop in them, even in timid little sweeties, swear to God. I’ll bet this pretty little dog fucker here will be in the ring somewhere before long!
"No shit!" the other exclaimed. “In Bangkok I’ve seen the Muay Thai fights. They have the legal ones, which you can see on YouTube, where the referee interferes as much as in boxing, and the real ones, private affairs where the referee is absent. To be fair the bouts are usually a gross mismatch, ensuring not only which will lose but that she will be very badly beaten before she passes out, and that she will definitely be killed by her opponent. I can’t believe women beat on an opponent they’ve never met after they pass out. Would you believe I saw a woman kick her downed and unconscious rival so hard and long that the woman’s big bare breasts were split open? It was obscene beyond belief.”
"I believe it. They can get females to hate each other with such passion that killing is their focus, and the crowds get to watch.
And I swear the bitches love it, like they're in orgasm the whole fight. They get them wound up, of course, but I understand they also boost their libido with drugs that have them in ecstasy when they get slashed, no shit! When a woman is allowed to fight with a weapon, you know and they know that not only will the opponent be killed - it could be either one - but that the winner is unlikely to survive the bout as well, and they’re so pumped they still get it on. It's amazing what inconceivable violence they can get a bitch to do and enjoy!"
"That's incredible. What you’re telling me is that these death-fights sometimes have two losers!"
"Apparently only about one in 20 of the winners survives the extreme violence when they are armed with some of the vicious weapons. I’m just guessing at the numbers, but the weapons they use are incredible, and the design of the fight situation itself dictates that often both bitches will be very badly hurt before the match is over, and if one of them is somehow still on her feet at the end but carrying severe wounds, they usually put her away right in the ring with a bullet through the head, in her cunt or with the gun jammed up her ass. I love to see them buck when a bullet slams into the head. It makes a great ending to a horrific fight. If you’re going to spill a lot of blood anyway, why stop when just one of the cunts is tits up?"
Hallie thought she was going to vomit, but had the restraint to contain the feeling until it passed. Her head was light with the shock of what she had just heard. These incredibly wealthy gamblers had no regard for the women who entertained them.
They were as bad as the fucking Arabs! All they wanted was to see the women really badly hurt by each other and then killed. In every other regard, she and others in her position meant nothing to them. They were just meat, primed for the killing!
"The best dispatch with a gun I witnessed was when the winner was kneeling over the gutted loser, on her hands and knees. The dispatcher had a big 45. He thrust the barrel up the ass of the winner, and fired what had to be a dum dum into her, because her belly and sides swelled as if she were momentarily pregnant, and it totally demolished, probably pureed her insides. It was bloodless but spectacular!"
"I'd prefer the gun in her mouth, blowing off the back of her head. I’ve seen some pretty spectacular pictures. Somehow the face gets to register shock at the instant of the kill. I don’t understand ladies’ reflexes, but there's nothing so beautifully final as a brutal brain splatter!"
this is really good, especially the last one
When the meal was done and everything cleared, she was told to stand against the back wall, and take care of the needs of anyone who beckoned her. Hallie was serving as a busgirl, and wore only her collar and the requisite high heels. She had to respond to any of the guests needs, but otherwise she could observe the show. She watched as the stage was set for the evening's entertainment.
It was a D-Ring, complete with video cameras behind the Plexiglas wall on the flat side of the ring, and when the lights dimmed two large buxom blondes climbed through the ropes. They were both over six feet tall, wore no collars, and had on knee length spike heeled boots as their only costume. These two ladies were not controlled by handlers, as all of the other Business Women were.
There were six languages available on headphones at each place, so that guest could, if they preferred, listen to the MC in their own language.
"Ladies and Gentlemen," he began through the house system in English as his words were simultaneously repeated on the headphones in the other languages, “D-Ring Extravaganzas Inc. proudly presents a demonstration of some wonderful new weapons, developed in our laboratories and workshops, and being tested here tonight for the first time in a real fight. We have for your entertainment two of our managers who have chosen to retire, and to do so in a manner that best serves the interest of our organization, as all good employees would do."
That brought a laugh from the audience, who assumed the only way such women would participate would be through extreme coercion. They looked to see if anyone at the edges of the room had a rifle pointed at the pair of buxom nudes, but the only weapon visible was a large pistol, a revolver that appeared to be part of the MC's costume. He was dressed as a safari guide.
Hallie was summoned to the nearest table, and she stood as the man who summoned her inserted a large pepper mill into her vagina without moistening either first. As he pumped it she stood silently with her legs sufficiently spread to accommodate his vicious treatment of her. The man on the other side of her spoke to the woman beside him.
“These ladies in the ring really are managers, I’ve seen them in casinos in Europe. The only way a woman can retire from working for D-Ring is to enter the ring. I’m guessing they either have chosen to do this or are being punished. Either way, they are prepared psychologically to want to do it. Using weapons, it is certain they will both take severe physical injury before one of them is killed. This is what sport should always be about! These ladies know what is likely to happen to them. For some women even that doesn’t take too much persuasion!”
The MC continued, "Please welcome, with the raven hair and the beige boots, from our Paris Casino, the incredibly beautiful Italian Amazon, Miss Angela Santini!" the audience cheered and applauded as she waved to them. She also gave a convincing smile, which indicated she was happy to be about to do extreme and deadly battle.
"And the vivacious blonde in the red boots, a woman who spent most of her outstanding career in our Helsinki Casino, but most recently helped us open our new facility in The Hague, our German crusader, the equally gorgeous Miss Gertrude Schutz!" The applause doubled, and the nude women in their high-heeled boots strode to their corners, where their first weapons for this armed fight lay waiting.
The only thing Hallie knew for certain about them was that the names given them were not their own, and that they were not from Paris, Helsinki or The Hague. That was just advertising to keep the names of those casinos in front of the right people. She was also pretty sure the man beside her spoke the truth – they really were managers, and their choice for exiting the organization was limited to this kind of activity.
The man with the pepper mill inside her was increasing his thrusts, and in so doing was bringing her into heat. It was all she could do to restrain herself from thrusting her pelvis back in tempo with his action. How could she ever imagine she would get off on receiving a brutal pepper grinder fuck, in public? Damn, these people sure knew how to make a girl hot!
"For the first demonstration you will see introduced into our arsenal a remarkable new whip, one that is intricately woven over a tapered lead wire which while thick in the handle, is thinner but with body near the tip, so that while remaining flexible, at any point along its length it’s heavy enough to deliver a bruising blow, capable of damaging the flesh an inch deeper than any other whip in our arsenel, and with sufficient force it will easily split the recipient's skin.
“With repeated blows to the same area it is also capable of parting muscle, according to trials on older fit women in our Los Angeles test facilities. These innovative whips are the first prototypes of this relatively low-tech weapon. In the hands of these two powerful amazons, it will certainly be capable of splitting raw bitch muscle.
“Another model, which because we want more than one weapon demonstrated by these two, we shall not use for this evening's demonstration, has a leather weave with tiny but very sharp metal barbs woven into it, but we have determined the damage inflicted would be better demonstrated when that would be the only weapon the combatants would use.
It would certainly kill any woman taking a searious lashing with one. You will see it introduced when naked Amazons use them to strip the flesh from each other in all of our smaller and more intimate WHIPCRACKERS clubs around the world next month. That will serve as a ‘live’ trial of the weapons, and then the lead lined barbed whips will be introduced for the feature competitions in our D-RING Casinos in September.
Patrons will be issued white capes to protect their clothing from blood flung by the back swing of the vicious whips. We have determined in extensive testing that if a competition with these lasts more than a minute, the chances of there being a survivor are very slim. When these remarkable new weapons are used, gambling will be restricted to which contestant takes the longest to die. Two medics will be present to determine which combatant is the loser."
The handsome young MC turned his attention now to the fight at hand. "The whips you will see at work here don’t have the barbs attached. These ladies will give and take alternately six blows each, then they will engage in a damaging free-for-all whip fight. We have set a strict sixty-second time limit for the free form, because we want them able to continue to demonstrate the damaging effect of a second weapon. But enough of talk from me, let's see these wonderfully weighted weapons at work!"
Angela stood in a defiant pose first, and received the first blow where she least expected it. The whip slashed up between her legs at her enhanced open vagina. She leaped in the air with the pain of the blow, but did not scream. Gertrude posed and after a five second pause took a blow across her belly that was so severe she caved forward. The lead lining in the whip made the contact more penetrating, hurting her deep into the bacon of her well developed abdominal muscles.
She recovered quickly, and came back at Angela with a second blow to the cunt, this time bringing forth a shriek. The whip meeting genital meat sounded different than the sound produced by a standard bullwhip. It had a deeper sound, and bigger. This was indeed an innovative weapon capable of much more serious damage than a normal whip. The recoil inside the womb was sufficient that with ten blows to the cunt, the recipient would likely produce, or give birth, to her own womb, inverting her vagina and uterus as the amazing East Indian woman had done out in the lobby.
The two big nude bitches continued exchanging blows, setting a slow pace so that her opponent could get full benefit of each blow, and raising large angry welts on each other, until each had given and taken six. Then the whips swung more freely, and much more rapidly. The weighted leather both swelled and bruised the flesh of the pale skinned amazons, and soon where welt lines crossed blood began to trickle. The lead-lined whips were taking a toll on the big women, sapping their strength by the effort required to lash out with them, in addition to the energy required to take the incredible blows they delivered. As each whip was swung back and cracked, it now sprayed freshly spilled bitch blood behind it, and drew more blood each time it landed.
By the time a buzzer called a halt to the madness Gertrude's nose was smashed, and one of her erect nipples had been split. Had the whipping continued, the large nude women would soon be too far gone to demonstrate the next set of special weapons. Angela's cunt was dripping blood, and her belly and breasts were covered with dark angry bleeding welts. It was clear that if there were no time limit, the battling bitches would have easily effected a kill with these brutal weapons, and the only question remaining would be which of these large luscious ladies would have died first.
The whips were taken from the ring, and the women, glaring at each other and shouting obscene threats, were provided with tight fitting leather gloves. These had no padding, but were fitted with quarter-inch long studs. On the screen behind the ring a video projector showed a close-up of these weapons, and it was clear they were designed by experts to create surface damage, capable of cutting into muscle. The studs were sharp, and designed to shred live meat. The audience was excited as they realized they were going to view boxing with its full potential realized.
"Before the ladies conclude their event, we have one more weapon for them to demonstrate, so the buzzer will halt proceedings at the appropriate time. I’ll determine when its time for them to stop while both are still able to compete!" He turned to the women, who had securely fastened the vicious gloves. "Ladies?" he said, and stepped off the ring platform.
The women proved themselves to be much more proficient with boxing than with the whips, and very quickly their flesh was covered with deep bleeding contusions. The shape of the gloves' sharp studs made them both rip and gouge flesh, depending on the angle of the hit. In some cases a glancing blow was more damaging than a direct hit, that simply poked some small holes. With her broken nose, Gertrude tended to defend her face, but she also went after Angela's to great effect.
She dug a row of bleeding trenches from the right side of Angela's jaw to her temple, and took a vicious battering to her big bleeding breasts in return, but these were mostly puncture wounds. Angela then drove her fist across Gertrude's tummy while taking a blow that painfully ripped her left ear.
The audience cheered them on, and the women became more violent in their blows, until they were both streaming blood, which added fresh color to the drab dried bloodstains on the canvas. The MC threw a bucket of salt water over them as they fought, to stem some of the bleeding so neither would weaken too soon. The sting of the salt in their wounds brought even greater passion to the fight, and the brutal merciless pounding they gave each other with these damaging studded gloves became so fierce the MC had to hit the buzzer before either of the retiring managers succeeded in killing the other.
The ladies leaned back against the rope, their chests heaving for breath as they took the few seconds available to rest. The bleeding had largely subsided, thanks to the salt water, but in this heat and humidity their bodies gleamed with sweat. The MC worked carefully with them because they were still wearing the sharp studded gloves. He provided them with what at first appeared to be elbow pads, one for each arm, but when the audience saw the new weapons on the big screen, they gasped.
These were heinous killing weapons. The pads, which were really only firm armbands that covered the elbow, were fitted with a length of blade that was only an inch deep, running along the four-inch length of the bands. The blade was deep enough to cut through an arm to the bone, or through the stomach or side muscle to open a woman's abdominal cavity, while not deep enough to damage their organs and viscera.
These were ripping blades! To defend themselves in the most meager manner possible, the big cunts were given six-inch leather shields with a leather strap on the back that they could hold in a fist. These would likely be as vulnerable as flesh to the blades, and amounted to a bad but amusing joke. Hallie gasped with excitement when she realized that at last she was going to witness at least one ring kill, and quite possibly two. Now that she thought about it, this was the way of the organization.
The man who was abusing her had given up with the peppershaker to give his full attention to the ring, and she quietly moved back to stand against the wall. She was incredibly impressed by the outrageous fight she was witnessing. Nobody that knew the inside workings could ever be allowed to leave. It was like the primary rule of a motorcycle gang or the mafia. Once you were in, you knew too much to be allowed outside again. Ever. The only exit was death.
That must be what that line was about in the ad that brought her here. There was just one chance to exercise the only escape clause. It had to mean death. What an exciting idea! Even though the organization's fights were marginally legal, its success depended entirely on secrecy and no bad publicity. She understood now that these women who had been managers had likely somehow fucked up an assignment, and were required to go out the only way possible for them.
Or maybe they weren't aggressive or compliant enough in their jobs, and the organization needed fresh blood. A third possibility is that they weren't managers at all, at least not in the D-Ring Inc. organization. Maybe that guy who recognized them was wrong. Whatever it was, she found this realization really exciting. This was going to be a double execution by the organization in a way that furthered its cause, and left it blameless. She was about to witness these two big women complete a death fight. This was outrageously exciting!
These two beautiful women were going to kill each other, and probably were so pumped with the drug they used for these fights that they could not resist if they wanted to. It was absolutely elegant. If one of them died before getting in a lethal blow to the other, they would make out the cunt who killed her was not repairable, and mercilessly dispatch her with a bullet to the head to end her misery, at the same time giving the audience a positive jolt. She hoped they did that in the ring rather than dragging her out first, like they did with that 12-year-old when she had fought her first fight. Her only fight, she realized as she thought about it. She felt like a pro, but had only been in the fight ring once.
If what that guy had said was true, the MC would use his pistol to dispatch the winner in front of the audience, regardless of her condition. It would be an entertainment murder, and could be called nothing less. At the moment both women looked like they could be healed easily and put back into the ring to fight again, but this event was far from over. It would be a thrill to see the survivor's brains being blown out. Hallie hated female managers, even when they had been converted to nude ring fighters, and these two damaged bitches deserved everything they were about to get.
The organization's official follow-up report would say the winner of the bout was too badly damaged and wasn't worth healing. It would be too expensive to repair her, and she would have lost her value to the organization. The report would say they would have helped her if they could, of course, but they realized it would be useless to try to heal her. The only humaine thing to do was to quickly put her out of her misery, and nothing was quicker than a bullet through the head; the report would say it had been necessary to kill her in front of the audience before she left the ring. That at least would be the story line.
As she thought about it, she realized that the names and where they had worked were not just probably, but really had to be fakes as well. That was how the organization worked - leave no tracks and nobody will follow you. In fact, on this island no report would be necessary, since the private island was free of law. There was no accountability except to the Sheik, who was paying for all of this, and had approved the details of all of the entertainments that would be performed, including this one. A woman didn't disappear when she was killed, she disappeared when she was brought into the organization. She had no life but the one they gave her, and it appeared certain they would take it away when it suited their profitability.
Hallie suddenly realized that she had no sense of identity with these two beautiful battling nudes other than their appealing appearance and exciting behavior in the ring. They had terrific bodies, and great legs, which were enhanced by those spike heeled boots they wore. They looked great, but so did a t-bone steak. She had no empathy or sympathy with them or for their humanity, simply because she knew nothing of them, but in fact didn't want to know them as people. She had come to accept the restrictive range of value they had, which was as livestock, meat for the slaughter, and the shock and perhaps horror of their suffering in the ring was the enjoyment she felt. She felt nothing more.
She had become just like those men who had chatted beside the table on which she suffered with that beast up her ass. They got off on the violence, brutality and inhumanity of the acts they had come so far to see. Now Hallie found herself enjoying the fight to the death she was witnessing, and actually being sexually stimulated by it. Now she understood at a new level the violent fight business she had entered.
The MC stepped back again, and the women in the ring looked at their new weapons, the implications of them sinking in. Hallie watched them gently move their arms as they tested how they would use them to best effect. The buzzer rang and they swung around to face each other in a challenging pose, each waiting for the other to make the first move. They held their studded fists together high and in front of them with their bladed elbows outstretched ready to swing. That was where the power was now, and anything else was of no consequence.
Angela feigned, abruptly slapping her right foot two inches forward. Gertrude took the bait, moving to her left. In a flash Angela's left elbow slashed out, ripping a clean and deep line across Gertrude's right shoulder. Gertrude reflexively dropped the injured shoulder, and Angela's elbow swung at and connected with her turned head, splitting the ear and digging a line against the cheekbone just below the eye. Had she not turned and slightly tilted her head, the elbow blade would have taken out her eye.
Blood spurted from the shoulder and face wound, and Gertrude stepped back to refocus. Angela moved in quickly, but Gertrude swung her own elbow, for which there was no defense. Angela was the first to raise her tiny shield, and the viciously swung blade sliced through it and three of Angela's fingers. It then made a deep nearly horizontal slice through her left breast just below the nipple. The shield and three severed fingers dropped to the floor, and blood spurted from the stumps where the fingers had been. With her adrenaline supported by the shot she had been given prior to the fight, Angela lunged forward again, swinging her right elbow at Gertrude's throat. She made contact, but narrowly missed Gertrude's jugular vein.
Hot blood streamed from the new wound, and Gertrude, ignoring the damage, drove her knee with her full strength up into Angela's belly, taking a slash from the elbow blade on her thigh as she did so. Angela threw her head to the side to avoid a slash from Gertrude's elbow, but the blade ripped he cheek from the jawbone under her ear to her mouth, exposing her molars as it greatly increased the size of her mouth. These vicious little blades were proving their ability to inflict huge damage on a woman, and the crowd yelled their appreciation. Gertrude unexpectedly dropped to her knees, and before Angela could react to this startling move, she took a diagonal gash from her ribs, through her navel across to her hip bone, opening her belly. That single violent stroke made the Italian cunt's survival unlikely. She crashed down to her knees, and in that crucial moment Gertrude made a fatal miscalculation.
The big German raised her arms in victor, a celebration significantly premature; in doing so she exposed her own belly. Angela was not yet finished with the battle. The big Italian bitch bowed forward, slashing her elbow from Gertrude's sternum right down to her pelvic bone above her cunt, ripping her open as well. The forward movement necessary to inflict this wound released Angela's viscera, which tumbled out of her. The big Latin cunt reached with her good hand at the split belly of Gertrude, who was momentarily stunned by what had just happened to her, and she jerked the German lady's bacon apart, allowing out her opponent's viscera, which slowly extruded onto the canvas. The women, their spread knees encompassing the steaming pile of their mixed guts, mindlessly flailed at each other with their viciously armed elbows, slashing deep wounds in each other's arms, breasts, faces and any other part that was in the line of fire, doing incredible further damage, causing blood to flow freely. They were both experiencing an incredible continuous orgasm, further fueled with each fresh blow. Within a single minute they both heaved forward onto the mixed gut pile, apparently lifeless.
The audience gave D-Ring a standing ovation, which was missed by the two combatants, who now had apparently deceased for their entertainment. The standing crowd blocked Hallie's view of the two gutted nudes lying in the ring. She felt a cooling of her thighs and legs, and was startled to see that in the final moment of the fight, the time of the actual twin ring kills, she had lost bladder control and pissed herself. It was a humiliating moment, because she had never before lost control, although she did not remember the time of her life before she was potty trained. She stood silently in her own pool of piss, hoping nobody would notice the dark spot on the plush carpet. She was sure she would be chastised for this if her indiscretion was discovered, but it could be much worse if she abandoned her post.
When the people sat down she could see the ring again, and saw the MC climbed through the ropes into the ring. He said into the mic "We don't want to leave any job unfinished, do we. For the safety of these women, I want to verify their deaths." He pulled his pistol from its holster. It was an old Colt 45 revolver. He grabbed Anita's hair at the front and lifted her head high, thrust the muzzle of his pistol into her gaping mouth, aimed it slightly upward and without hesitation he fired. The room filled with a surprisingly loud bang! The bullet would normally have gone through the woman's head, blowing out a dollar size hole in the back of her skull. This bullet had obviously been altered, designed to spread on impact, because it blew the entire back and top of her head off, sending off a large spray of brain, blood, bone and hair. This was the best insurance possible for a guaranteed kill.
He walked around behind the German, took hold of Gertrude's hair in the same manner, and when he lifter her head the bitch's eyes opened, and she looked at him in horror. He was startled, because he believed she had been killed, but he quickly recovered. "We have ourselves a live one here,” he said, “and I hereby officially declare her the winner!" He then looked at her horrible wounds and the pile of her intestines on the canvas. She looked at him in terror, her eyes pleading.
"I'll let the Sheik's guests decide. You can all see how completely this big bitch has been wasted. Does the cunt live?"
"NO" they shouted in unison. "KILL THE BITCH!" KILL THE BITCH! KILL THE BITCH!" they chanted.
"The jury has reached it's verdict, and made it known!" he said. The pistol went into Gertrude's mouth. She had lost so much blood, and was still leaking the elixir of life, so he could not stretch this out if he was going to be able to claim the kill for his own, as another notch on the handle of his pistol. Her mouth opened wide, as if she could will the weapon out.
"One!" At least he could improve the level of horror the cunt was experiencing. "TWO!" The audience had joined in. The woman squeezed her eyes closed, attempting to block out the horror. "THREE!" Her eyes flew open, and bulged as the gun fired. Her brains were suddenly blasted out through her skull, and her eyes popped out of their sockets from the internal force of the explosion inside her skull.
The MC picked up Anita's wrist, paused a moment, then dropped it and did the same with Gertrude's wrist. As at last it fell he said, "I hereby declare these lovely ladies to be officially dead meat! May their remains bring nourishment to lower life forms."
When it was show time, Hallie had positioned herself on the same wall but some distance from the sadistic black woman, and successfully escaped her notice. The young girl had quickly expired from the extreme abuse at the hands of the sadistic African woman, lying spread-eagle on the table with her tummy gradually swelling, her inner organs extensively discombobulated. Her diminutive nude body had been removed, the end of the bottle still firmly lodged in her distorted little vagina. The level of the lights came down, the curtains went up, and what the audience saw brought applause. Revealed were two feisty girls, a slender and wiry 11 year old Malaysian and a stocky 12 year old black girl who both swung upside down, tied by their ankles to short horizontal bars so that they hung just three feet apart, their legs spread by two feet, and each carried a very small knife.
The sturdy handles were taped into their fists, and what was different was that the shiny steel blades were only an inch long, apparently to prevent deep organ damage, which could possibly end the contest much too early. This event was a true blood-sport, designed to have damage entirely visible so that it would be a certain crowd pleaser. Death would most likely come to the inverted nude girls through blood loss, which meant lots of color and a longer struggle. Around the wrist of the knife-bearing arm was a brightly colored ribbon that was held by each girl's handler, so that they could not begin their lethal contest until the ribbons were released.
These girls were both very attractive, with well-developed bodies for their age. At 20 Hallie thought of herself as young to be in this sport, but she now knew that young girls like these two were commonly used in the D-Ring organization. The Malaysian girl had yet to develop breasts, but the black child had developed an impressive pair of tits that dangled to her shoulders in her inverted position. Because she had reached puberty, her preparation had included both vagina scupting and defoliation. The Oriental had her vulva expanded and shaped with injections as well, but had yet to develop hair growth in the groin and lower belly.
"Some of you," the MC said as he stepped onto the stage, "may not have seen the talents of youth at work in the violence entertainment industry, but D-Ring, a leader in the field, has found that when it comes to extreme violence, young ladies fresh out of elementary school are as proficient in it as their mothers and more mature sisters, and can readily summon the will to kill with the right inducements. You have not seen this kind of ferocious entertainment commonly because of restrictive laws regarding age in too many countries which prohibit ladies under the age of 18 from taking their rightful place in the ring.
“Because of discriminatory laws, young ladies such as these can only be seen in these lethal competitions in a couple of our public casinos in the far east, in South America and one in Africa, where there is absolutely no discrimination against youth. We do however provide girls of this age and younger for private gatherings like this one anywhere in the world, for an audience with the sophistocated tastes of this gathering.” A hearty round of applause demonstrated appreciation for the organization's efforts, and the exception being made here tonight. The audience was primed for this novel form of entertainment, and were ready to watch one young girl killing another.
"Thank you. We are actively working to correct prohibitive laws, hoping some day to remove all restrictions. In the meantime, our gracious host the Sheik has invited us to present for your entertainment in this private event the kind of events that you might not otherwise get to enjoy. Since he is the only law on this island, there are no inhibitions to the brutally violent battle between these lovely if aggressive young ladies you are about to witness.” More applause followed, this time for their host.
"The young ladies before you have since joining our team of entertainers been provided with encouragement to become mortal enemies, and the success of these efforts they will demonstrate for you. They responded very well to their conditioning, have developed certified hatred of each other, and are prepared to give you a spirited show of extreme violence. Just like life for these nude young entertainers, talk is cheap, so let's allow the girls to get down to business!"
He stepped off the stage as the slender wrist ribbons were released, and the blades flashed in the spotlights, causing the ribbons to twist and weave in a delayed pattern not unlike those used by rhythmic gymnasts, although this sport had much more deadly consequences for the athletes. The hatred these girls had for each other and their wish to inflict severe damage and a kill was immediately apparent in the flurry of their attacks on each other, with both screaming at each other, the Malaysian in her native language and the black in strong Jamaican accented English. Because they were youths, the pitch of their voices was high and shrill, and their screams when struck by a blade went up an extra octave.
The Malaysian girl took a stab to her side, and the knife stuck in one of her ribs. Her blade slashed the full breast of the black, bringing forth the first crimson flow. Quickly she followed with a rapid series of stabs to the black's belly, producing a pattern of bleeding holes as the black jerked her blade free. Quickly she lashed it across the face of her opponent, splitting the bridge of her nose. She had been going for the Oriental's eyes, but separating her nostrils from the bridge of her nose worked well, because it introduced a spray of blood into her opponent's lungs. The flow into them was limited, however, because she was inverted, so most of the blood produced flowed downward between her eyes.
Both girls used their arms in a limited but reflexive defense, and the resulting damage to their upper limbs was severe. The chubby black girl had large, fully developed breasts, and she sustained the greatest damage to her tit meat, and the tight belly of the Malaysian was soon covered with indiscriminant slashes. She was the first to go for the other's cunt, and although the blades were too short to reach in to any depth, they each quickly demolished the other's vestibule, and if the had been virgins, were no longer, as any semblance of a hymen in either vagina was quickly destroyed.
The fronts of the two girls were now nearly 50% covered in their blood, but their wounds were not yet life-threatening. The most effective slash was one that dug a gash in the side of the Malaysian that was nearly a foot long. Because the black girl was a bit chubby, the Oriental's blade was not long enough to slice entirely through her bacon meat, but the Malaysian was slender with well defined muscle - another quarter inch deep and this juvenile girl would have her intestines oozing out of her.
The MC stepped onto the stage now as the handlers came forward. They grasped the ends of the ribbons dangling from the girls' wrists, making it no longer possible for the young combatants to reach each other with their weapons. "As you can see, the passion these young ladies have for the fight is striking, wouldn't you agree?" The audience showed their appreciation with applause. "As you can tell, they are ready and willing to kill each other, but their weapons make that a rather slow process. What they need is a tool that will let them get in deeper, so let's give them what they need to do the job right!" The applause doubled. "Why do we need to arm our youth with guns when they are so efficient with knives?"
The handlers grabbed the free wrist of each of the girls, and taped into it a knife with a longer blade, sufficient to penetrate and rip the belly or back meat of their opponent without severe damaging their vital organs. The black was given a 1½ inch blade and the Oriental a two inch blade. As before, the image of the new weapons appeared on the big screen. They had a stout curved blade almost like a highly compacted scimitar, and with the same feature in mind. It was both a puncture and ripping blade, and if used in that sequence, was capable of outstanding impact on the torso of a full grown woman, and capable of much more damage to teenage girls.
Hallie knew she would be good, maybe even great, with a weapon in her hand. She imagined herself facing an armed adversary and felt dampness in her loins as her carnal instinct rose. This trip to the island had prepared her and now she knew she was ready for a serious and deadly fight. If she really hated the bitch she was to fight, she now knew she was fully capable of killing her. As she understood it, being at the killer level meant she would make much more money per fight.
The MC stepped off the stage, the handlers released the ribbons, and the girls promptly swung their new weapons at each other, demonstrating the remarkable intensity of their hatred for each other. They ignored their own wounds as they inflicted new and more devastating damage to their loathed opponent. The black Jamaican slashed off the right nipple and a couple of inches of tit meat from the Asian, then took a penetrating hit to her cheek that cut off a face fillet, exposing a white patch of her cheek bone. She slashed across the Malaysian's torso just below the ribs, and took an angular vertical slash across her own belly from the Asian's blade.
Their screams reached a new climax as they both felt they were on the brink of a kill, and both were running on pure adrenalin, ignoring the horrific damage they were taking to their own nude bodies. The thickness of the black's chubby torso provided her an advantage; she would have been dead by now from the first round without the added protection her fat gave her. Although they had cut each other severely all over and were weakening from the exertion of the inverted fight and from loss of blood, both were focused on killing their opponent, and seemed to favor the abdominal cavity as a target.
They viciously slashed each other's belly, ripping repeatedly until small openings spread and the meat gradually parted, at last allowing the squirming youths' steaming intestines to progressively spill out. From the sheer horror of what they were experiencing, they both released their bladders, sending up a small golden fountain that washed down across their spilling guts and dripping down, mixed with the pools of their blood on the canvas floor of the stage. The Malaysian girl got the master stroke when the black pitched her head back as she realized she was losing her guts.
The Oriental slashed with all her remaining strength, ripping open the black's throat, and the young pretty young black heaved wildly, quivered uncontrollably, then her blood-streaked body gave a final shake and went limp. She had acted with no time to spare because of her loss of blood, because within a minute the Malaysian girl also slumped in death, and the two young ladies young hung by their ankles like the slaughtered and butchered meat they were, entirely of their own doing.
For most of the audience, watching naked teenage girls engage in a battle to the death was a new and exciting experience. Hallie was surprised her response was the same as it was for the death of fighting full size women. Their young age didn't seem to make a difference to her, because she rationalized once these eighteen year olds were owned by the organization they were going to die anyway, and sooner was just as good as later. Also, they were clearly eager participants, and were of sufficient age to know enough of death to make a binding decision on committing themselves to the contest and its outcome. If putting them in front of a crowd to kill each other was what the organization thought people wanted, they were going to do it, and it turned out for this crowd it was a good choice.
This island was out of the jurisdiction of any restricting laws, and every outcome was possible here. 18 was an arbitrary number at best, and as long as the audience wanted it, what was the harm in letting these two lovely looking but violence prone little girls compete? Hallie realized the audience was delighted to witness these nude young kids demolish each other in this bizarre fight, and now having personally seen minors doing extreme damage to each other gave her a new appreciation of the scope of D-Ring Inc. operations she had been told about by Ms. Helene.
The MC came on stage, and said "I hereby declare the Chink the winner, and the Nigress the loser, no contest!" The audience agreed with their applause and loud cheering. "Our performers are all fully ensured, and we of course have to provide a bit of special death insurance, just to make sure there is no undue suffering." The audience laughed as one at a time he thrust the long barrel of his pistol into the open mouth of each of the inverted dead girls, and put a bullet up through their necks into their bodies. The gutless torsos heaved with the impact trauma, but did not split.
For these young ladies he had obviously used a lighter load casing in the big pistol. The curtain dropped before the clean-up crew came in to remove the meat and mess so that they could set up for the next performance. The show was progressing very well. It was impossible to know in advance how well participants would perform, and every fight with the same design might be completely different than any before it. That was what made live show business so exciting.
Once more the curtain was raised, revealing that the ring was once more in place, but now the standard ropes were no longer there. They had been replaced. Now the posts were strung with twisted strands of vicious razor wire. The audience gasped with appreciation. Much more blood would flow tonight, guaranteed. The MC came on stage to introduce the next entertainment.
"Ladies and Gentlemen," he said in his loudest, most powerful voice, "We have witnessed some outstanding examples of how willing ladies are to deal out death to their opponents, providing full body damage to each other for our amusement, both giving and taking extreme damage to each other, but in this next battle we are going to witness the effect when two large bosomed nude Amazon ladies have the opportunity to mark their enemy's most valued feature.
Next up for your entertainment is a no-holds-barred breast fight, a vicious Tit Fight, featuring some very special boobie butchering weapons!" Applause greeted his announcement. "In this battle of Amazons the ladies' astounding mammaries are the featured target, but of course there are no rules, so every part of their sumptupus anatomy is vulnerable!"
Two handlers appeared, pulling on leashes attached to their ringed collars a pair of women at least 6’6” tall. Both were sturdy body builders with rippling muscles, but neither over-weight except for their enormous breasts. With the exception of their collars and spike-heeled boots, they were naked. Their heads were bowed, and their arms bound severely behind them. "These two recruits are marvelous examples of human development around the world, regardless of race, religion or income level." Again the audience laughed.
"These lovely cunts are the product of our world's progress in nutrition and upbringing. There parents just didn't know when to quit bringing them up!" Another roar of laughter ensued. The jokes were not that funny, but the audience was primed and on edge because of the wonderful anticipation that ran through the room. At least one of these gorgeous buxom ladies would soon be violently and entertainingly converted to dead meat.
"Our recruiters outdid themselves when they obtained the services of these two ladies. Coincidentally, they both worked in libraries, although in far separated parts of the world. As you will see when they perform, thanks to our careful reshaping of both their luscious bodies and their character, neither now has the mild temperament of a librarian." This brought a chuckle. The audience could see the fire in these women's eyes.
Each was clearly focused on at least severely hurting her opponent, and they also looked to have a killer instinct. At least one of these gorgeous large breasted amazons would certainly be reduced to dead meat before the contest was over. “They were both blessed with extraordinary mammaries, and we have taken the opportunity to enhance them to make them even more provocative! Don’t you agree?” The audience gave him the desired enthusiastic applause.
"This olive skinned beauty, thirty-two years old, was born and raised much too high in Lebanon, and has been in our organization for three months, in which she as amassed a total of 14 ring kills!" The audience was impressed, and showed it with applause. "The pale skinned cunt with the dark red hair, what do you call that color, it isn't burgundy, but I'm certain it came from a container the size of a wine bottle!"
The audience was enjoying his joviality in a situation in which these women were likely to die a violent death. "This twenty-seven year old beauty is from the Bronx in America. She grew up as a street fighter, a skill she had to learn just for the sake of survival, but she has been with us for more than six months, with an impressive ring kill total of 35." This greatly impressed the audience.
Hallie knew all of the information provided was likely fabricated. The spread in numbers was designed to create a favorite. A prime tenant of the D-Ring organization was that true information about the women was never provided. She knew any facts regarding recruits were considered to be too volatile and potentially damaging to operations for them to be revealed. The only thing that was true was that the recruiters had done very well to obtain these two very tall Amazon cunts, and the surgeons had been very successful in enhancing their amazing breasts.
"They have both served the organization well; we have arranged that both of them will complete their careers with us here tonight!" Hallie now understood the code: he was probably saying that any fight that involved weapons was not likely winnable. Although one bitch could defeat the other, it was unlikely she would survive either her wounds or the inevitable bullet in the head that was sure to follow.
The audience, she now saw, would always expect the winner of a planned death fight to be dispatched, and their wish would often be granted. It was a part of their entertainment, which was the name of the game. To take part in a death fight you had to be ready to die win or lose, since that was the likely outcome. The only way she could imagine surviving was to avoid any damage at all, which was very unlikely. She now understood better than ever the need for her to train hard and hone her fighting skills.
The big screen at the back of the stage lit up, and the audience gasped as they saw a close-up image of the devices the women would use on each other. On the screen was a video shot of a woman's hand, arched and stretched out into a threatening claw, and on each finger was a clamp that held in place an arched black talon, extending three inches from the end of the finger.
The devices were attached to each other across the back of the hand, and as the hand turned it revealed that attached to the band running across the palm was a two inch blade, making these weapons very deadly, like a triple threat. The braces that held the talons also prevented the hand from closing, so that the blade on the palm was not a direct threat to the wearer.
The MC directed the men to move their women to opposite sides of the ring. A gate had been provided on either side, since climbing over the wires would be impossible without sustaining premature injury. When the women were positioned in the opened gates, the handlers unclipped their wrist cuffs, freeing their hands. Without hesitation the big gorgeous nudes lunged toward each other, armed hands spread, and the gates were quickly locked behind them.
Somehow their training in developing their rage had focused the women's attention on their opponent's very large firm breasts, and with their mammaries the center of attention for each of them, their talons flew, scraped, gouged and otherwise maimed the swinging fat orbs of their opponent. The finger weapons slashed open the massive unprotected tit meat, and soon there were strands of fatty milk ducts and pink and white tissue dangling from bloody gaping gashes across the excessive female frontal features. Although their arms and bellies were being scraped and gouged, their bulging breasts were taking the brunt of the attack from each other.
They thrust and parried, and in the process of attack and retreat, the big nude women moved around the ring, showing their incredible legs in the spike heeled shoes to advantage and giving a variety of angles to members of the audience who were seated on three sides of the big D-Ring. At last the inevitable happened, and the Lebanese woman pushed both of her palm blades into the nipples of her foe and thrust the red headed American into the razor wire replacing ropes. The bitch's screams intensified.
She bounced off the vicious razor wire lunged forward, grasped her olive skinned opponent around the waist, and digging her talons into the cunt's sides, rolled her into the razor wire. They dropped to their knees, each ripping vertical slashes in the other's meat as they went down. The Lebanese cunt dug her talons into the ample cuntmeat of the bitch from the Bronx, and with the other taloned fist grasping the white bitch's neck, lifted her against the wire, causing further damage to her side, back and shoulder.
Blood streamed down both of them, and a bucket of salt water was thrown over them to somewhat reduce the flow of blood, as well as wash away some of it, making the actual wounds more visible. This was show business, and anything to amplify the effect of the show for the audience was always worth doing. The cleaning revealed the extent to which these bitches had got at each other. Deep gashes producing fresh blood were everywhere. The splash of water temporarily interrupted the ferocity of the fight, but only for seconds.
Now the American realized how far the fight had quickly progressed, and decided to use the blades in her palms to better effect, putting them to work as her primary weapons. This proved to be a good choice for her. She grabbed the Lebanese cunt around the waist again, but this time slammed her palms hard, driving the blades deep into the bitch's meat, digging the blades in to their full length.
Then as the olive skinned bitch grabbed at her shoulders with her palm blades, the red headed American ignored the pain and drew her hands toward herself, keeping the pressure of the squeeze going, so that she sliced with her palm blades through the back bacon of her opponent, and cut steadily toward the bitch's sides. Hallie gasped audibly as she realized the white bitch was attempting to cut her enemy in half! The Lebanese twisted to look downward in shock at what was happening to her, and that parted the meat on her left side, providing some freedom to her intestines.
Desperately the middle-eastern bitch slashed the palm blades on her metal gloves into the sides of the red head, but the progress of the blades around her girth was too great, and she fell onto her back, with only her head supported against the vicious razor wire. The American straddled her downed opponent's hips, and continued the dissection until her palm blades met at the bitch's navel.
She grabbed the parted flesh in both hands and jerked the meat wide apart, pulling both downward and upward, exposing the snake of viscera and organs. She dug out a fist-full of gut, raising it triumphantly over her head, then sprung to her feet to leap in a victory celebration. The Lebanese woman attempted to sit up, but managed only to squeeze out more of her intestines. She lay helpless and panting in shallow breaths as the total horror of what had happened to her gradually sunk in.
The MC stepped onto the stage, his pistol drawn. The American woman saw him immediately, and backed to the far side of the ring, a look of horror coming over her face. He carefully aimed the big revolver, and squeezed off a round. It smashed into the right ankle of the American bitch, who fell backward into the razor wire, screaming hysterically. The ankle was destroyed, but the bitch attempted to get to her feet.
A second shot blew through her right bicep with such force that the bone was smashed, and the meat on the inside of her arm was blown away, so that the remainder of the limb hung at a strange angle from the strands of outside meat still intact. She inadvertently threw herself back onto the razor wire, ripping more of her back skin and muscle. Hallie noticed the Lebanese woman had a strange look of satisfaction that came over her face, showing that she was pleased she was not going down alone.
The next bullet blew away the nude redhead's left kneecap and destroyed the joint behind it. The bitch dropped, then fell onto her damaged tits and face. With great effort she used her good arm to turn herself tits up, a look of sheer terror on her face. She took the next shot to her left shoulder, now removing any chance of moving from her back. The bitch was heaving her diaphragm to draw in breath, and the effort caused a couple of the deep slashes to her belly to extend.
A bubble of gut started to poke out of the bleeding hole. The MC emptied the blank casings from the chamber, and then put in fresh cartridges. He thrust the barrel of the large pistol up into the redhead's gaping and bleeding cunt. She moved her hips, probably in a futile attempt to remove the gun from her quim, but gave the appearance of fucking the barrel. After giving her time to absorb what was about to happen so that she could fully appreciate his finesse, he squeezed the trigger.
Her womb served to muffle the sound of the shot so that it was not as loud as the earlier discharges, but the effect was outstanding. The bitch's belly heaved, swelled, and then exploded, blowing out trails of gut through rips where her opponent had weakened the muscle of her belly with deep gashes. The big bitch sagged, then fully slumped as her death occurred, for the amusement of the Sheik's invited audience. The MC moved over to the Lebanese woman, tangled in the razor wire. He placed the muzzle of his gun against her forehead between her eyes, then slowly moved it across her temple, bringing it to rest at her ear.
"I think you'll hear this, sweetheart!" he said in a voice all could hear, "At least for an instant!" Her eyes rolled in horror as she waited for him to squeeze the trigger. He watched her tense breathing, knowing she was living in Hell for the moments of life he granted her. He could even hear the shallow breathing of the audience as they sat tensely anticipating the dispatch of the bleeding bitch. Finally he did the threatened deed, and put a bullet into her head. The large bullet had the devastating effect the audience had seen a couple of nights earlier - removal of the entire far side of the head with a brain, bone and hair splatter that carried more than ten feet.
Hallie felt a sudden chill run down her arms and spine. This was not the reaction she expected. What she felt was more like a thrill than a horror. She was surprised that she did not find the merciless killing of these women to be as shocking as she would expect, and no longer felt the heave reflex when she watched a woman being mercilessly dispatched. Instead she felt a tight stirring almost like anticipation in her gut. These killings were part of the show, and she found them as exciting as did anyone in the audience.
With each ring kill she witnessed Hallie felt less concern for the safety of the women, and less disgust for the MC's brutal actions. He was just doing his job, and he did it very well, making a fun show of his duty. She was starting to understand how the gamblers and guests of the island host felt, and why they found this violent blood sport exciting. These gorgeous ladies killing each other on stage were just bitch fighters, and were definitely not anybody she knew or cared about.
They knew perfectly well what they had coming when they entered the ring, and had signed permission and wavers like everyone had to in order to participate. Spilling their blood and guts on stage for the entertainment of the crowd was probably as exciting for them as for the screaming spectators. Everyone in the room, including herself, was experiencing basic blood lust. It was a natural instinct or reflex that D-Ring Inc. understood and nurtured with great skill. These bitches were in it for the thrill as much as for the money they might win. Possibly nobody knew or cared about them.
At any rate, if there were people anywhere who did care about them, they would never know that these women were killed or how they died. They would assume they were just out of touch with them, and would think less about them as time passed. When she thought about the thousands of women who came into the organization every year, with as many leaving through a violent entertainment killing, she realized that like Ms. Loretta said, cunts were cheap, and nobody was going to cry when she bought it.
Nobody knew where she was, and nobody cared. She was alone, and the D-Ring organization was now her home. If she died in the ring, the only response other than the momentary cheers of people who had bet against her winning, if they made videos of it, would be guys watching her being killed on their computers or TVs while jacking off. She realized now how far she had sunk and that now she was really nothing but spunk bait.
Even after she was dead, guys would be shooting their seed for years to accompany repeated playback of her violent death. More likely just for weeks, since the output of kill videos was so great. She had come to realize that life was all about getting your jollies, however that might be. There was no gambling at this show; the audience was there to get their rocks off with the violent and creative deaths they were witnessing, and Hallie was certain there weren't any dry panties in the house.
She just hoped that she would experience the same carnal excitement when it came her time to kill or be killed in the ring. It would be incredible knowing that her last act would be to cause the men around the world to ejaculate, time after time as the video of her being killed in a fight was replayed, or the women to piss themselves with excitement when she croaked. What a freaking rush!
please, go on
"The human body is amazing in its ability to recover," the woman said. "When a woman is injured, a bullet is often the easiest solution," Ms. Helene said, "But we don't always have to take the easiest solution as the best. Sometimes allowing an entertainer to live is a useful option."
"A bullet works," Hallie said, remembering the string of exciting dispatches she had witnessed. “Why deny an audience the thrill of an extra killing when its so easily done?"
"Some of our weapons are designed to permit recovery from the damage they do for the visual stimulation of the gamblers," Ms. Helene said, "as long as the fighters know that they can absorb a bit of pain for the good of the organization, and get on with the fight. If we can heal them to save a special skill, its sometimes worthwhile."
"I think you're setting me up for some news," Hallie said. "Have you got an assignment in mind for me?"
"Yes, but it will require you spend the next three weeks getting in shape for this particular sport. Let me show you how this one works. It's not a new sport for us, but it is incredibly entertaining, with proper training." She took a long briefcase from under her desk and opened it. Hallie stood up to see what she had. It was a photograph of a rusty iron implement.
"The idea for these weapons came from an ancient torture tool found in a torture chamber, now a museum, in the Castle in Prague. During medieval times people were imprisoned, and to control them this device, fitted to a long pole, was placed on either side of the neck over the shoulders, and the man using it could jerk it forward, digging the hooks into the shoulder meat of the prisoner. We've adapted the idea to make weapons for some of our fighting women to wear in the ring in a special competition to grasp her enemy and move her around by her meat. It's a simple but lovely idea when you think of it. I love it.
"These are worn on your arms," she said, lifting a pair of implements out of the case. “Their inspiration came from the ancient torture implement in the photo.” They were quite simple, when explained to Hallie, who was enthralled at the idea and listened attentively. There were two strong elasticized armbands, one to go around the arm just below the elbow and the other around the wrist. When pulled on there was a ¼ inch steel rod that ran between them along the back of the arm. The ridges along the back of the rod allowed the wearer to use her arm to scrape and gouge flesh with a sliding motion.
After the attachment to the ring on the back of the wrist band the steel rod divided, like the ancient fork did, and the two branches passed through small rings on the end of a wooden dowel held in the fist of the wearer. The two parts of the rod extended five inches past the fist on either side of it, then each part split again into curved two-inch hooks, so that there were four hooks for each arm.
"These are kewl!" Hallie said.
"Cool," Ms. Helene said. "They are used to grip your opponent, and because this model doesn't have barbs, can be released easily. They are very sharp on the end, much sharper than the crude iron original in the medieval torture chamber, but they are not sharp on the sides, so they make only puncture wounds. We have another model with larger hooks that are barbed and have a sharp inner edge, so that when pulled it will slice, and removed it will rip your opponent’s meat. These only puncture, so that the wound will bleed for great visuals, but the weapon can't be used to rip muscle, so healing is virtually ensured.
"Then what's the point?" Hallie asked.
"The strategy is to use these to keep your opponent hugged in close and control her. Here's how the real damage is done." She reached into the case and brought out another pair of devices, these quite a bit smaller. "This goes on your shoe, around the foot. You get one for each foot, and as you can see they are quite different. One has another puncture weapon, two inches long, which can damage the legs or any part of your opponent you can get at with a kick to give her a puncture wound, just as the arm weapons do. The one that goes on the other shoe is for killing."
"Wow!" Hallie said as she saw the other device. It securely fastened to a shoe. On it was a short gutting hook, only two inches long, otherwise similar to a carpet hook used for ripping carpet. It arched up from the toe of the shoe, then curved downward, with the tip and lower edge sharpened, appearing to be an evil claw, which in fact it was.
"This weapon will rip her wide open, given the right pressure," Ms. Helene explained unnecessarily. "It is quite short so that it won't rip intestines or organs, just the outer meat of her sides or belly, and is used to open her by ripping her bacon. We have revised an earlier weapon, and it has tested well when we tried it on humans."
"I'd keep the bitch wearing one of those really close to me so she couldn't get the gutting hook on her foot into my belly!" Hallie said. She saw how effective the blade could be on the foot of a skilled fighter.
"That takes a lot of dexterity and strength. Conditioning is critical, and requires an intense training regime. Do you think you're mentally ready to do the training necessary for a kill with these?"
"You bet I am!" she said. Hallie was surprised when she heard herself say that. In a very short time she had undergone an incredible change in attitude. She couldn't believe she was going to get to use these on another woman. She was now being given a real kill assignment. She'd be the main event on the card! They were going to put her into a real fight to the death!
Hallie took one of the arm mounted hook devices and put her hand through the larger band. She pulled it up her arm then put her hand through the smaller band. It was a tight fit, but was slightly stretchable, so that she got her hand through it and grasped the wooden dowel in her fist. The four small hooks were very sharp, and she imagined digging them into the flesh of another woman.
"I love these!" she said. She realized her opponent would be armed with the same weapons, and realized she would take many deep punctures, but also knew they would not be life threatening and would heal. "It's just a matter of keeping totally focused," she said, "ignoring her hooks in me, like the other girl using her hooks digging into me wouldn't be a distraction."
"That's right, Hallie, you've got the right idea. I'm putting you onto the card for three weeks from tonight. We'll have you fight here in Chicago, while gamblers will still remember your last fight here."
"That was my only fight," Hallie said. She had been kept busy but had not been put into combat, and resented that.
"Well, lets invent some battles you have been in for the record, lets say in the London and Moscow casinos. How about 2 kills in each?"
"I'd rather have the fights," she said. "I don't like lies about my abilities. It's not fair to me or to the gamblers."
"When did you become concerned with fair? The gamblers all want to believe whatever we tell them, and the extra history boosts the gambling. That's the business we're in, and what we have to encourage them to place the large bets, no matter what it takes."
"Have you got an opponent in mind for me?"
"As a matter of fact I have," Ms. Helene said, smiling. "How would you like to get back in the ring with your first opponent, Vivian?"
"Hell yes!" she said. "I'd really love to do that bitch!"
"Good for you, Hallie," Ms. Helene Brazier said. "Like you, she has been busy since your fight. Her activity has been in training, and in the ring."
"She's had fights?" Hallie asked, incredulous.
"Indeed she has, in fact she's had three fights with these devices, and she has done very well."
"Doing very well is not an option," Hallie said. "As I understand it, with these things you either gut your opponent or get gutted."
"That's an accurate summation, and she has earned three kills with these. She has become quite a good fighter. You picked her and can take credit for bringing us such a good bet producer. I’m offering you the chance to complete her fight career by providing her the only escape clause."
'Holy Shit!' Hallie thought to herself, 'three fights and three kills behind her already! All of them were with these things. The husband thief bitch really turned out to be a fighter!' "I've only had that one fight," she said, "and no kills. Why haven't I been getting more fights?"
"We've been grooming you to do some very special things for us, and you have been progressing very well," Ms. Helene said. "We have a new idea for increasing the level of gambling on fights, and want you to help us with the project. Do you think you might be interested?"
Hallie was cautious in her response. "What do you have in mind?"
"Something very innovative. A set of back to back fights. Posted as a single event."
"How would that work?"
"When you fight Vivian, the winner would face another opponent, immediately!"
"You mean a fresh fighter would come into the ring after I beat her, even if I'm wounded?"
"Exactly. You will remember you also nominated your boss, the lady who so unfairly fired you, Miss Wendy Watson."
"Have you got her too? Is she going to be a Business Woman now?" This idea excited her. That filthy bitch belonged on the losing end of a death fight if anyone did. She was a bit stocky, and would make a great fighter with the right motivation, like saving her smutty ass.
"Wendy is here, and she has some ring experience, with two fights under her belt, including a ring kill. Her kill was with an ice pick - it was quite creative; she and her opponent entered the ring with their arms bound behind their backs, and each with the stout wooden handle of their ice pick jammed into her rectum, so that the spike stuck out of their bums like a hornet's stinger! She took some deep puncture wounds, and also got some damage from her opponent's spike heeled kicking shoes, but she is healing well.
During her kill fight she got her ice pick into the body of her opponent several times, driving it in deep by using her weight. She got her opponent down and sat on her, driving her ice pick into the woman’s big left breast, and effected her kill by putting her full weight to bear drove it down into the screaming lady's heart. Her opponent was a woman she knew that worked out at the same gym.
They were in fact taken together, along with several others. Both were highly competitive, and although they were friends, it didn’t take us long to get them to willingly take part in the Black Widow sport. Wendy is perfectly suited to these claw weapons. We will have her ready as your second opponent, or in the off chance you should lose, as Vivian's next opponent."
"Thanks for the vote of confidence!" Hallie said. She knew she could take them both, one at a time or together. They were cunts, not fighters. All they knew how to do was fuck married men. Other women’s husbands.
"We are always prepared for any eventuality, and you don't have a ring kill to your credit yet. Let's see how well you do at this. First we'll have to get you in shape for these weapons, and trained to use them." Hallie was suddenly feeling very anxious. She was starting to experience a well known side effect of the stream of drugs used on girls regularly to manage their attitude. Ms. Helene Brazier was constantly aware of the symptoms in the girls and women she supervised, and made a prompt intervention.
"Time for us to get at it then, don't you think?" Hallie nodded in agreement. "You have been in a custom development program, and your progress has been excellent," she said. "Now it's time to whip you into shape to handle the rigors of using these enhancements." She stood, her chain rattling on her chair as she moved, and walked to the door.
The unexpected part of the training was the use of an ancient torture device, an accurate reproduction of the one in the photo Ms. Helene had shown her, which was both simple and elegant in its design. It consisted of a pole not unlike an oversized rake handle, with a two-pronged fork, the prongs 9 inches apart. The ends split into two, and rolled into sharp curved hooks on the ends, exactly like the claw weapons, but narrower, to enable earlier healing.
Sheila used the device to condition the women in her charge to receiving puncture wounds, using the handle to keep them at bay so that the trained fighters could not retaliate. The points were long enough to dig severely into their naked meat, but only to a depth of ¾ of an inch, not deep enough to completely perforate the muscle.
Sheila used the bizarre torture implement on their sides and backs, but primarily she used it in the style suggested by its design: she pushed the tongs on either side of the subject woman's neck so that she could dig the barbs into the back of their shoulders while using their neck to hold them back. By moving the handle up and down she could vary the place of back puncture, digging it in with a jerk then quickly pushing it away to withdraw the hooks from their punctured meat.
The ladies screamed at the violent abuse they were subjected to, but realized it was for their own good, when they would have to face an adversary with double the stabbing power on her fists, and while taking the hooks into their back continue to be aggressive while under this kind of brutal attack. The training was to build character in the fighters.
The trainer also gave the girls perforation wounds on their arms, buttocks and the back of their legs, just to get them fully primed. She even dug the barbs between ribs, hooking a rib and pulling, which was what the girls saw happening to others on the videos of real fights. For her own enjoyment she thrust the weapon between their legs and twisted it, digging it into either their buttocks or their inner thighs. It was tough work, but somebody had to do it.
It would never do to risk infection, so before they began a session and immediately after, the girls and the weapon were dipped into a bath of alcohol, which after training was far more painful than the invasion of their conditioned meat by the sharp points of the training tool. The alcohol also reduced bleeding, so that the girls were not weakened, allowing them to resume weight training. Because the alcohol was also very dehydrating, their dip in it was immediately followed by a cream rubdown.
This part of the training suddenly ended with ten days to go before the fight, to allow for complete healing of the narrow puncture wounds before the women entered the death-fight ring. There should be no sign of injury or scars when they entered the D-Ring. What continued was the conditioning, which was critical to the effective use of such technical weapons. Strength, flexibility and endurance were the focus of her physical training, and Hallie loved it.
The other and most exciting part of their training was the two days each girl had in a small room with an unarmed middle-aged woman. They were fitted with their weapons so that they could practice using them on a human target. When she took her for the first such session Ms. Helene explained to Hallie that this woman, naked but with the hair, makeup and bearing of a wealthy upper middle class lady, had been picked up at a taxi stand outside the Chicago Opera House.
The cab driver was one of the D-Ring recruitment technicians. His job was simply to operate the taxi, a stolen vehicle with fake licence plates and painted to resemble a cab in the Yellow fleet, and to pick up someone provided him by the man acting like a doorman, a man also on the recruiting team. The woman's identification, which was safely confiscated along with her clothing, showed her to be 46 years old.
The rich bitch was in good shape for someone her age, had a firm bosom, and displayed a haughty attitude. Hallie was impressed. She had a rich bitch to herself as a training partner, and on the afternoon of the second day with her would be allowed to use her foot blades to rip, gut alive and then kill the arrogant woman! Her mentors were now recognizing her as a serious cunt fighter!
The sessions with the captive wealthy woman were everything Hallie could have wanted. On the first morning she wore only one of her weapons, and in the fifteen minutes she was given she discovered how to place, jerk in, then jerk out the hooks. The woman fought to defend herself, but was neither as fit as Hallie nor armed, and she was left on her knees, screaming hysterically as she pissed on the floor at the end of the session. In the afternoon the woman was still bleeding from her morning wounds.
Clearly infection was not a concern, because before it could set in the wealthy cunt would be dead. The afternoon session was half an hour long, and Hallie practiced hugging the woman to herself, digging the weapons into her back and jerking them out while rubbing her vagina against the struggling and screaming woman's cleanly shaved pubic mound. This was far better than sex, and she had three big orgasms during the hot session!
During the training session on the second morning Hallie practiced flipping the nude woman around while keeping her from using her shapely and strong legs. It would never do to allow an enemy woman to use her legs and get her feet up to use her foot blade. Although this kidnapped wealthy mature bitch was unarmed, she struggled as if she had a chance to hurt Hallie, which made the exercise session more interesting. She did get in a painful shot when she slammed her knee up into Hallie’s cunt so hard the armed nude could feel her uterus jerk back inside her.
When she had the woman flipped so that she could mount her back, Hallie dug her sharp weapons into the woman's impressive breasts, belly and cheeks. The woman grabbed her head and pulled her hair, but by doing that she just helped to simulate real fight conditions. Hallie pressed her groin hard against the woman's buttocks and back as the bitch squirmed, and found it was a great way to control the cunt while keeping out of reach of her feet.
She also knew how difficult it would be to effect a kill from this angle. The hooks could puncture but not rip the bitch’s belly meat, and there was no way she could reach with her legs and twist her feet around to get at the bitch's exposed belly. The kill would have to be done from the front.
The woman saw the weapons on Hallie's high-heeled shoes when she entered for her final session with her after lunch. The wealthy captive summoned new strength, realizing how desperate her situation had become, and she put up a fight that was very useful in Hallie's training. To make the fight simulation more realistic, the woman had been given the powerful stimulant shot to enhance her resistance and incite aggression.
Hallie would only get a chance to use the shoe-mounted gutting blade on her training woman once before her real fight, and this was it. Hallie tried several ways to get her leg up without exercising the final blow, to give her as much experience as possible considering she was fighting a woman much older than her opponents who was also unarmed. She did kick the blade into the woman's cunt several times, and jerked it out at various angles, totally demolishing the wealthy lady's dong holster.
When she was at last ready she kicked the blade hard into the woman's lower belly in several places, then using her hooks deeply sunk in under the woman's shoulder blades, lifted herself up so she could get the blade into the woman's solar plexus just below the sternum, then in a powerful lift, was able to stand on it, bringing to bear her entire weight.
The result was as good as she anticipated when she had planned the move. The woman's eyes bulged as the blade sliced down through her tense bacon, ripping her down beside her navel until it finally reached her pelvic bone above her bleeding cunt. She was fully ripped. The powerful Mrs. Griswald J. Sears was now reduced to an opened bag of shapely flesh.
The big bitch's legs had, by reflex, braced to take Hallie's weight, and under the shock of being torn open down the front her legs slowly sagged, and she sunk to her knees. Hallie backed off her, jerking her shoe-blade free, and watched as the woman gradually bowed, leaned slowly forward, and they both watched, as did the room's cameras, as the woman's pink and purple viscera slowly slithered out of her, forming a steaming pile in the pool of her blood between her spread knees.
Hallie moved behind the kneeling bitch and dug her hooks repeatedly into the exposed neck, until she perforated a major artery which supplied blood to the brain, and her unarmed sparring partner, her first kill, toppled onto the heap of her own viscera.
Hallie, Vivian and Wendy were the first Business Women loaded into the secure armored truck known as the meat wagon for transport to the casino, since they would be the last to be taken off when they arrived at the underground loading dock. The three beautiful nudes, their hair freshly done and their makeup perfect, swung by their bound wrists from the ceiling hooks of the truck, their feet swinging above the floor and their ankles bound so that they would not be able to damage each other before they entered the D-Ring. They had received their preliminary doses of stimulants by injection before being loaded, and as the drugs kicked into high gear so did the three ladies.
They started to argue with rapidly growing passion, and before the truck was filled with the human stock for the night's card of competitive nude female battles, the three were all screaming at each other at once, with nobody listening. The vigor and intensity of their vehemence was so infectious that soon the entire load of dangling women were engaged in the screaming. The truck was not well soundproofed, and the driver keeping clear of other traffic, determined that from now on transported livestock should not only be bound but also gagged.
Although they could see nothing of the fights that preceded theirs, the trio of hook fighters slated to take part in the double-billed death-fight battle heard two shots, and shortly after each the carcass of a dead fighter, her head half missing from the brutal dum dum shell she had taken, was dragged through the holding area to the medical room for disposal. The second one caught Hallie's attention. The girl, no older than herself, had torn flesh, including the loss of most of one of her firm tits. She and her opponent had engaged in a fang fight, as the card read. They had spent some constructive time in the dentist's chair, and had their teeth replaced with permanent dentures that had real fangs.
It had really been a biting contest, and they had both been well armed with sharp curved canines which made it impossible for them to close their mouths, but which made their visage quite startling. They could bite and rip as well as a wolf. It reminded Hallie of her first fight with Vivian, where she had bitten the bitch's cunt really badly. In this case the winner, who had some deep wounds of her own, had bitten away most of her cunt, had ripped a hole in her side revealing ribs and another in her tummy, had done the near removal of the breast, then had ripped out her throat. It was incredible to think teeth could do that kind of damage.
Hallie wondered how they disposed of the dead ladies so they could never be found or identified. She'd have to ask. She realized with that thought she was losing focus, a very dangerous thing to do before a fight. At that moment the doctor bent first Vivian and then herself over the bench and injected them in the buttocks with their completion dose of stimulant to maximize their aggression in the ring. A few moments later a pair of burly handlers hauled the two fighters whose fight preceded theirs from the tunnel through the holding room, then pushed the bleeding ladies into the medical room for treatment. Their fight had been very brutal, but not fatal for either of them. Both would live to fight again, which wwas not in her plans for Vivian and Wendy.
"Okay, ladies," Ms. Helene said, "Your bout is next, after the girls have time to work the gamblers. As you well know, it's the first part of the main event, we're billing it as Round One, and I don't want you to stop fighting until your foe is dead. Is that understood?"
"I'm gonna kill that stinkin' fuckin' cunt for gettin' me into this shit," Vivian screamed. "There's no fuckin' way she's gonna beat me twice!"
"You're nothing but fuckin' dead meat!" Hallie responded. She felt rage rising in her gut, and her pupils were dilating with the drugs coursing through her system. She was pumped, and could think of nothing but getting her meat hooks into Vivian’s body.
"The winner and the dead loser will remain in the ring," the show director continued, "and they will be joined by Wendy for Round Two. That will also be a fight to the death, with no stopping until either Wendy or the winner from Round One is dead! We will require at least two dead women on the canvas before this fight is over. The gambling system we have devised requires it for payoff. Now here's how its going to happen.
“When one of you gets the other ripped, the one with her belly opened will of course still be alive. Her intestines will slide out, but her organs will probably be intact inside her. I want you to get your hooks inside her through the opening you have made, grab her heart and pull it out! When she screams, ram it into her fucking mouth!" The three combatants stared at her, startled at what she had just said. "This is fucking war!" Ms. Helene screamed at them, "Take no prisoners! Make the cunt pay for the damage she's going to do to you!" she shouted. She was now working as a motivator, adding passion to the effect of the stimulant drugs in their systems.
The three nude girls would never have imagined Ms. Helene Brazer to speak this way, and as the adrenalin kicked in they picked up on her energy. As their emotions took over they shouted "Kill! Kill! Kill" Hallie and Vivian had their backs to each other as they were fitted with their hooked appliances, with three handlers on each of them because of the weapons they were having applied. Wendy would not be fitted until the first two to fight had left for the ring. Their viciously armed spike heeled shoes came last, and when Vivian and Hallie were properly fitted Vivian was taken into the tunnel.
"What the hell is this, I'm the lead fighter tonight!" Hallie protested.
"You don't have her record in the ring," Ms. Helene told her, "so we've made you the challenger for this card. Vivian has also proved herself with these weapons, and you have only a training kill against an unarmed woman with no fight training. Hardly a good match, is it? You're definitely the underdog in this one. If you’re killed, which by now you must realize is likely, Vivian will have the glory, have your kill added to her already impressive record, and get to go to the next level in this match. By winning, if you get lucky, you get the chance to take on the other foe you nominated, Wendy, who is also a proven fighter with these weapons." Hallie was stunned at the cold reasoning being applied to her. The effect was to make her even more angry, which was Ms. Helene’s purpose.
"Why does she get a bye into the Second Round?"
"That's easy. We've done it this way so that you will fight extra hard to get to take her on. All she ever did to you was fire you, making you available for this new lucrative career. Vivian doesn't even know Wendy, but the only motivation for Vivian tonight is to lick you, then to survive Round Two. The only way she can achieve that is to whip you both. And as you know, neither of you is properly whipped until she makes you take a bite into your own heart!"
Her employers played hardball. Hallie felt trapped, but then chose to rise above that. She looked at the doctor, who was enjoying his job, with so little to do. "Give me another shot of that shit!" she screamed.
The doctor hesitated. "That will put you at risk. You've already had two large doses - your heart could explode!"
"My fuckin' heart's at risk now, asshole! Give it to me!" Hallie was feeling giddy with a rising excitement. This sport was all or nothing. She bent over the table. He had another syringe ready to give in a few moments to Wendy, for the right timing to give it maximum effect when she entered the ring. "Ram the fuckin' thing into me so I can get going!"
The doctor looked at Ms. Helene who nodded approval, then stabbed the big needle into the muscle beside the spine on Hallie's back, just below her shoulder blade. "You'll need this drug cocktail to work fast, because its time for you to go into the ring!" He pulled the thick needle out of her and stood back so that the handlers could get hold of Hallie, but she needed no persuasion to enter the long tunnel. She held her sharp hooked weapons up in front of her, ready for action. In less than two months the aspiring newspaper reporter had become a lethal killing machine, and was ready and eager to add two names to her very short kill list.
It took Hallie a few seconds to adjust from the darkness of the tunnel to the brightness of the big casino. As in all such casinos around the world, crumbly brown blood stains covered the big canvas, some of them fresher than others. Crimson and bright red stains covered much of those, with the new blood spilled this evening in earlier bouts. Standing in the middle of the largest pool of blood, where the head of the dispatched fang fighter had been blown open, stood Vivian, posturing in her spike heels and holding her weapons high as she thrust her pelvis forward, offering the gamblers exceptional views of her cleanly shaved groin.
Hallie virtually leaped onto the stage, and her handlers hurried to get her under control as Vivian's handlers did the same. It was Hallie's turn to posture and make an obscene show of herself for the gamblers, and she startled everyone by squatting over the very puddle Vivian had stood in, and dipped the round points of both her shapely ass cheeks in the freshly spilled bitch-blood. She slid her buttocks forward, and in doing so picked up enough of the crimson liquid that when she stood it ran in little rivulets down the back of her shapely legs, outlining their gentle curves. This was show business, and Hallie knew how to show it all.
The nude girls working the floor in their spike heeled shoes and collars were moving frantically among the gamblers to get all of their bets in before the signal came to end betting. Hundreds of thousands were being wagered on this battle, and that was just what was being wagered in the casino. With extensive closed circuit and pay-for-view cable distribution, the take would be in the millions.
The signal would not come until the nude waitresses had raked in everything they could, and there was big money being wagered on both of the remarkable armed nude women in the ring. Hallie's record of having already defeated Vivian swayed some, while Vivian's record of kills while Hallie had none in the ring swayed others. Defeating a woman and killing her were two different things. Whichever way the fight turned out, the high volume of large bets placed on this double-bill two round fight, with two guaranteed deaths, assured that D-Ring Inc. would make a real killing. That was the name of the game.
Hallie stared at her opponent as she was held back from commencing her attack prematurely. Vivian was a whore who deserved to die, and Hallie felt a growing rage, driven by the extra shot of stimulant stew she had taken moments before. She defied the grasp of the two handlers who tightly gripped her arms from outside the ropes and lifted one of her great looking legs so high it rested on the top rope of the D-Ring.
Thrusting and rotating her groin forward, she sent a spray of urine toward her despised opponent. Her high-pitched shrieking added to Hallie’s elevating rage, and she was desperately trying to jerk free of her handlers. Vivian was also restrained by her handlers, but was spewing venom in a stream of obscenities, none of them new to Hallie. The handlers held each of the struggling nude fighting women by their forearms, ensuring their weapons could not be used prematurely.
These were vicious hooked puncturing weapons firmly strapped onto their arms, with four sharp hooks in front of each fist, capable of punching a pencil-thick hole in the flesh nearly an inch deep. The weapon on the left spike heeled shoe was another puncture weapon, this one longer than the hooks on their arms, capable of poking two inch deep wounds into the flesh of the opponent and the right shoe bore a gutting hook, similar to but sharper than a carpet hook, capable of ripping a woman’s belly open, which was its intent. None of these handsome young men wanted to have his beautifully tanned muscular meat marked with these sadistic woman-weapons.
The nude waitresses were busy moving among the gambling spectators, rolling large bills wagered by in the women and stuffing the money into their moist vaginas as they marked chits for the big casino’s wealthy patrons. When Hallie had insisted on the second shot of stimulant Ms. Helene had immediately got on the phone and changed the odds sheet to further favor the house if Hallie won.
The betting had been frenetic but the rate was slowing, and in a couple more minutes all of the girls had retreated to extract the money stretching their wombs and hand it in along with their copies of the betting tabs. They could not steal from the organization, since they all had a deep cavity search of mouth, vagina and colon, and there was no other place to hide the rolls of hundred and thousand dollar bills they handled.
The damp bills would be cleaned of feminine moisture and dried in a special laundry before being handed over to the accounting department for processing and banking. The use of their genital orifices for temporary storage of tightly rolled bills had come from the waitresses themselves. The practice sexually stimulated them, and was commonly used throughout the casinos owned by D-Ring Inc.
In addition to be a very practical storage space, the use of the beautiful young women’s vulva for stashing the big bills was a turn-on for the gamblers, and horny gamblers placed bigger bets than the those stimulated by risk or greed alone. Although their colons were flushed before they went on duty, their thick digestive fluids were present. Cleaning the bills of the young ladies’ cunt and rectal slime put a whole new meaning to the term laundering money.
It was fight time in the D-Ring Inc.’s Chicago casino, and the big two round main event was about to begin. The lights went down in the house as the lights went up in the D-Ring. The red lights on the television cameras were on, since every angle of every moment was recorded during the live broadcast to private betting rooms around the world. Four other cameras were discretely placed and disguised in the audience, and there were cameras embedded at the base of each or the ring’s four stout posts, while remotely controlled high angle cameras captured elevated views of the action.
Because this particular Two Round event was introducing a new concept in death fights, it had raised an exceptional amount of interest. Spectators were going to enjoy two violent kills requiring both blood and substantial gore in a single event, which had been billed as a gore fight! People in the Middle East paid $250. apiece to watch and gamble on the action on big screens in select nightclubs and gambling dens.
Arabic people were always amused to watch the decadence of American entertainment, and loved to gamble on the outcome of the degenerate infidel fights. The minimum on bets in most of these establishments was $1,000. and almost everyone exceeded the minimum to see which of the nude American women would spill her viscera on the big screen first. It did make great entertainment.
In the far east there were more than 150 closed circuit feeds, and many millions of dollars had been wagered in the past hour as gamblers chose from naming the winner of the first round, how long each round would last, and which of the three gorgeous young woman would survive the incredible violence and damage they were required to inflict on each other during the impending nude combat event. Only one of these women would win, and everyone believed they knew which of the shapely ladies that would be. Although their choices differed, they placed huge bets to ensure a big payoff if they chose correctly.
They also placed bets on whether the winner would survive; the odds were that all three would be dead soon after the second was killed, and the seasoned gamblers knew it. This provided a chance for a very big payoff; because the chances were slim, most gamblers bet on triple kills. Most of the men cared nothing whether the winner survived, but most of the women in the audience showed by their betting that they hoped for all three to die, and wished to see all three spill their guts before succumbing to their wounds.
The MC, a thirty-year-old male model wearing a black silk high hat, white collar and bow tie, a broad belt holding a holster containing a silver .45 revolver, black high heeled boots and a metal band and chain harness on his raging erection climbed into the ring. He was high on a triple dose of Viagra, and he began a long and massive ejaculation as he shouted at the top of his lungs “Ladies and Gentlemen, welcome to the D-Ring’s main event, tonight featuring a fight to the death by three gorgeous and talented ladies.” He turned to make sure everyone in the audience and the cameras got a good view of his enormous ejaculation. “Round One of this battle will be over when one of these first two gorgeous, voluptuous nudes presents us with her intestines, then dies by an erotically violent termination!”
He strolled across the ring, staying out of range of the finely honed weapons the girls wore. “As you can see from these wonderful weapons the girls are wearing on their arms and shoes, this is a gore fight. Anyone who might find excessive gore offensive may leave now without jeopardizing your bets.” There was a burst of laughter at his joke, cutting through the tension of anticipation. Both women were now grinning broadly, eager to puncture, slash and rip her opponent’s naked meat.
The adrenalin and other stimulants pumped into their systems was in full effect and both of the nude combatants were in full heat with a compelling and raging blood-lust. “There is no winner of Round One until both of these lovely ladies has contributed copiously to the blood on the mat, and one of the comely cunts is DEAD, lying on top of a heap of her own entrails, which will take us immediately to Round Two! A third competitor will enter the ring, and will immediately commence to battle the survivor, and the round will conclude only with the death of one of the remaining two combatants!”
His prodigious production of semen continued to spurt into the air, splashing onto the blood-stained and soaked canvas, making a fresh sperm-slick on which he hoped one of the fighting ladies might slip. What a rush it would be for him to know his spunk contributed directly to the death of one of these luscious cunts! His ejaculation increased in intensity and volume.
“Ladies, its puncture time! Prepare to KILL or DIE!” He quickly leaped between the ropes, spread for him by a rope assistant, and in that instant the ladies’ handlers released the two armed and excited nude bitches. Round One of the main event death-fight was on. It would only move to Round Two when one of these combatants was dead. The MC doubled over beside the ring, madly pumping his raging erection as the organ continued its seemingly endless ejaculation, painfully draining his aching and swollen testicles.
More experienced than Hallie with the hooks and rippers, Vivian held her hooks up in front of her, ready to strike. The only defence that had any meaning was against a kick to the belly by the slashing tool on the right shoe. She was anxious to get at it, wanting nothing better than to wreck revenge on the bitch who had hurt her so badly in their first fight.
She kicked her puncture weapon on her shoe up as they charged each other, and Hallie surprised her by suddenly twisting so that the kick caught her hip instead of the targeted cunt. Continuing her rapid spin, Hallie kicked high as she had learned in her kick boxing lessons, and her puncture weapon caught Vivian’s right cheek, punching a hole in it and audibly cracking lose both upper and lower molars. ‘Holy shit, that was way too easy!’ thought Hallie as Vivian spit out blood and chunks of teeth.
Vivian quickly grabbed Hallie’s buttocks with her arm weapons and jerked her arms back so the hooks seated in the firm bum meat, pulling their groins together. Hallie, seeing no immediate chance to get her shoe hook at Vivian’s belly, reached around her and crossing her weapons behind the bitch, jerked them so that the hooks embedded themselves into the meat below Vivian’s shoulder blades, pressing her breasts against Vivian’s so that the cunt couldn’t get her shoe hook into play. Vivian responded by jerking her hooks out of the buttocks and slashed the bloodied weapons at the sides of Hallie’s squeezed breasts, digging them into the bulging sides of the soft but firm fatty meat.
This was unexpected, and Hallie pulled back and twisted, producing the first scream of pain in the match. That move forced the hooks out of her breasts, and Vivian quickly reached up and dug them downward into Hallie’s shoulders, perforating the straining muscle. Hallie attempted to lift Vivian by pushing her knee up into her foe’s groin. She could feel the moist warmth of the bitch’s spread cock holster against her leg, and she realized how horny this fight was making her. Both women started using their shoe weapons on each other’s legs, painfully slashing and puncturing with each vicious kick. This action was not productive in terms of their prime objective, and forced them to break apart to regroup and re-form their attack strategy.
They stood, braced, catching their breath and focusing their minds away from the pain of their several bleeding wounds. Their medically enlarged vaginas were dripping their internal moisture as both sweat and blood slicked their nude bodies. These hot ladies were holding the attention of the casino audience and the gamblers watching the match around the world. This time it was Vivian who shifted to the kick boxing style, and she kicked at Hallie’s neck.
Hallie spun around and with her perforating weapon struck Vivian on the side of they head, higher now, making a direct hit on the beautiful bitch’s right temple, and the short weapon dug in deep, piercing through into the back of her eye socket. Vivian threw her head back as Hallie jerked the weapon free, and the combined action forced the eyeball to pop free of its socket. The gorgeous woman had suddenly lost her beauty with the flopping eyeball dangling from the dark opening of her eye socket. She had not lost vision with the released eye, but it no longer tracked with the other, and gave her painful double vision.
She had no way to shut down the bizarre second view that confused what she saw with her intact eye. Her brain could not separate nor integrate the images her eyes delivered because the two images were totally dissimilar. This development was definitely not good news for Vivian. If use of her hands were not restricted by the weapons she wore she would try to pop the eyeball back into its socket, but she had no way to do this.
As she desperately hugged Hallie to her torso she thought of ripping the removed eye completely out to turn off the double image, but before she could act Hallie got one of her hooks onto the swinging eyeball and jerked it sharply to the side, providing such pressure inside it that the orb distorted then exploded, releasing its fluid contents in a splatter than missed them both.
Vivian made a reflexive move that made her totally vulnerable; her arms flew behind her and she grasped at her own firm bum, a habit she had practiced for years when she was shocked, just as some women will cover their mouth or scream. This move proved to be a huge mistake. Realizing what she had done, she jerked her arms upward, digging the hooks on her weapons deep into her buttock meat with such force that a hook jammed into the base of her hipbone on each buttock. She sat down hard with the hooks trapped between the canvas and her buttocks, driving the hooks so that they jammed into the bone, firmly holding her arms behind her. Her hooks were locked in her own body, leaving her belly vulnerable.
Hallie was ecstatic, totally exhilarated at her good fortune. She leaned forward and stabbed her hooks into the bulging sides of Vivian’s big breasts, digging in them as deep as possible, then tugged the full mammaries, stretching and distorting them to draw fresh screams from the downed bitch. She set her legs apart to brace herself as she tugged the fatty flesh, and paid the price; Vivian’s left foot slammed upward and jammed the pointed shoe-mounted weapon into Hallie’s inner thigh inches below her groin, and as quickly as it jerked out the right foot slashed upward.
Hallie threw her head back as the sharp hook ripped up into the hollow of her groin close beside the bulge of her vulva. She realized the battle was far from over, and focused her mind past the searing pain. She got her hooks into Vivian’s ribs and jerked the bitch upward, hoping to force her to drop her foot. A side effect was that Vivian was successful in wrenching her own hooks out of her own buttocks.
Instantly she went at Hallie’s ribs, and as they sunk into the meat on Hallie’s side Hallie retaliated, digging her hooks into Vivian’s forearms. When she yanked them outward the hooks did surprising internal damage, stretching the sinues until there was an ominous ‘pop!’ from each arm. Vivian’s scream was intense, and she kicked wildly at Hallie’s cunt, but she was unable to score another direct hit. Her blade dug in again to the meat of in the tight curve where the leg met the groin. Vivian twisted her foot in agony, forcing the blade on her shoe to spread the meat of Hallie’s groin, and blood spurted from the opened wound. In the process the blade came out of Hallie’s flesh, and stabbed her thigh a few inches lower.
Hallie’s instinct was to use offence as defense, which was the right thing to do in the circumstances. She kicked her right foot hard into Vivian’s groin. Her aim was good, and the blade drove into the vestibule, slicing a deep trough just to the right of the inner lips, creating a second shaft. Vivian’s arms flapped wildly, but were no longer useful because she had lost all control of them. She sank to her knees, wailing more with excitement than with fear or self-pity. Vivian thrust her belly outward and her grion forward, reaching for the blade that was now certain to gut her.
Hallie kicked upward, driving her blade into the offered cunt, attempting to rip the downed bitch, but Vivian’s pelvic bone prevented the blade from slicing up into her belly. Hallie kicked at the breasts held by her hooks, cutting deep slashes across the fatty meat. Inner strands of tit meat dangled from Vivian’s bleeding breast wounds, joining the blood that sheeted over her naked front.
Then Hallie got down to her primary business as a fighting Business Woman. She kicked hard and drove the gutting blade into Vivian’s solar plexus, digging it deep into the hated bitch’s raw belly bacon. With her arms no longer useful, and knowing she was losing to her despised foe, Vivian realized she had to participate right to the end, and kicked out wildly with both legs, doing what damage she could to Hallie while it was still possible. Hallie took both puncture wounds and slashes to the back of her gorgeous bare legs.
Men and women around the world watching the outstanding fight were masturbating openly as they realized a death was imminent. They cheered as Hallie took her only acceptable escape from the flailing legs and raised up onto the foot with its blade lodged in Vivian’s upper belly. Vivian looked up, at first in shock but then surprisingly what appeared to be acceptance.
She was losing this fight, and saw that at least for her the thrill of the fight was in participating, not in winning or losing. She was giving her life to her opponent, and in the process bonding with her. They were one. This was incredible! The pain was no longer feared, but was bringing her to an astounding orgasm! This was the ultimate thrill! The drugs in her system were doing what they were so well designed to do.
Like with the society woman she had gutted earlier in the week, Hallie pushed downward with all her might, and the sharp blade on her shoe did its work, slicing through the muscle of Vivian’s belly, down through her navel and across the tight round of folded meat until it dug into the top of the ripped bitch’s pelvic bone. Her foe was now a ripped pig.
With her arms pinned behind her, Vivian struggled to sit up, and in the process her ripped tummy parted, releasing the first of her viscera. Hallie got behind her to stay out of range of the kicking legs, and dug her hooks into Vivian’s ribs. With a firm seating of the hooks, she was able to lift her severely wounded opponent to her feet, and slamming a knee up against the bitch’s cunt, pushed her forward, forcing out the remainder of her entrails, which dragged between their legs as she pushed the defeated cunt across the ring.
The gorgeous bodies of both nude and slashed women were coated in blood, and Vivian was alive only because the cocktail they had both had injected was loaded with a stimulant that had their bone marrow producing replacement blood at an extraordinary and unsustainable rate. Hallie spun around so that Vivian faced the audience, jerked her left weapon out of the cunt’s ribs and dug her released hooks into Vivian’s chest through the obscene opening in her front. Reaching up into her chest cavity she grasped for the bitch’s heart, seized it in the hook, and the immediate scream driven by incredible pain got Vivian’s mouth open.
Before the split bitch could die from the trauma of puncture wounds to her heart, Hallie got Vivian’s primary organ out of her, and jammed it into the one-eyed cunt’s gaping and screaming mouth. She could feel the vital organ was still beating as it went into the hated cunt’s gaping ripped maw, and she withdrew her other set of hooks from her defeated enemy’s ribs to allow the dying cunt to drop to the floor.
Vivian’s terribly violated body quivered, heaved, then slumped in death. The totally ruined young woman was dead within seconds of hitting the canvas. Ms. Helene had told her that if Vivian was defeated in either the first or second round, a few small choice pieces of her body would be removed and deposited in incriminating places to ensure the conviction of Brad for her murder. Hallie was very pleased that the bitch that had stolen her husband would contribute direct evidence to implicate him and seal his fate to a death sentence. He would join the cunt in hell!
Hallie felt a sudden exhilaration. She had a ring kill to her credit, and it was the cunt she hated most in her whole life! She was a winner, and the inconvenience of the wounds she had taken was nothing compared to the thrill of being a winner in the most extreme sport in the world! She was the best! Vivian lay in a crumpled, gutted heap, her weapons now useless to her, totally defeated by the woman who had nominated her as an opponent, and signed consent for her to fight.
Hallie had reduced her to a pile of meat, as worthless dead as she had been alive. Killing another woman was not at all horrible, as she had earlier feared. Being in charge and the best was everything, and she was both. The blood dripping from Hallie’s wounds and from her weapons was a tribute to her as a true fighter, and for the moment felt she was indomitable.
Wow that is great!
Thanks, Anon. There's more to come.
Hallie was suddenly hit with a bucket of salty water, which cleaned off some of the blood from her punctured and slashed body, and while giving her fresh pain with every wound; it reduced the flow of blood. She shook her head to clear the stinging water from her eyes, and immediately saw Wendy, nude and armed, climbing through the ropes. In addition to her outstanding looks and large firm breasts, Wendy was in very good shape, having spent four days a week in the last couple of years working out at the gym for three hours per visit. As a result her body was not only very well toned, but also she had developed both her muscle strength and endurance. She had developed self-defence capability by training in Kung Fu and had progressed to kick boxing training.
Although she was never in a real match before her abduction by D-Ring Inc., she had trained hard, and had many of the kick boxing moves down. She took advantage of Hallie’s exhaustion to pose for the crowd as she had been trained to do. Hallie took the brief time to rest, knowing she had to face the fresh and ready fighter with everything she could muster if she had a hope in hell of surviving Round Two. The doctor was outside the ropes, and he slapped Hallie’s slashed butt. In the palm of his hand was an inconspicuous syringe, and with that apparently casual smack gave Hallie a strong booster to the earlier shots she had been given. Within seconds Hallie felt her energy level rise.
“For the first time in the history of D-Ring Inc., Round Two!” shouted the MC from the safety of the stage outside the ropes, with that call and the second part of the deadly contest was immediately under way. It did not begin as most fights do. Wendy and Hallie squared off, each measuring the other. In the office environment neither had seen the other in this way, and it took a moment to adjust. Their loathing for each other had a natural basis. Wendy's was more recent, having developed since she was recruited. After the initial resistance all new recruits demonstrated, she had quickly adapted to the bizarre situation in which she found herself, with the responsiveness that had made her a good manager.
Her radically altered circumstances presented her a future that was now completely different. Now her very survival was an issue with every decision she made, and the limited decisions she could make usually had life and death consequences. Her physical conditioning and training served her well in the fight ring that was the venue for her newly imposed career. Shit happens, she rationalized, and it has just dumped on me, but I am always a winner, and won’t let that change!
She eyed the young bitch who had been too ambitious with no regard for the need to pay her dues and learn through experience. Like too many ambitious young employees, Hallie had wanted it all without the expected willingness to work hard to earn promotion. That was why she had so willingly responded to the request by a stranger who had approached her several weeks ago in the newspaper’s expansive lobby and had asked her to place the four page ad on Hallie's desk.
That outrageous document, that appeared to have been produced on a home color laser printer, was clearly a practical joke, mocking the huge but mysterious D-Ring Inc.'s reputation as an aggressive recruiter for the women it featured in its questionably legal nude fights. She thought it would be funny to have the impudent, lazy girl sucked into the joke. Wendy knew Hallie was so gullible she would probably believe the ad was real. She was equally certain it was the product of a sick sense of humor of one of Hallie’s friends.
Now that she had proven herself a capable killer in the ring, Wendy knew enough of blood sport to have a whole new perspective on that bizarre ad and on Hallie. Even with the severe puncture wounds all over her body, and the many bleeding slashes she had taken, all of them leaking blood, Hallie appeared to be confident and ready to attack. She was a worthy opponent!
Wendy had been told of the four kills the pretty reporter bitch had achieved, and saw on the canvas the crumpled naked body of the totally defeated Vivian lying on its own pile of still-warm viscera. Wendy was excited, feeling her body’s response tot he adrenalin flowing through her veins. This was going to be a very exciting fight! She determined she was going to end the murderous little cunt Hallie's horrific career tonight. The alternative was unimaginable.
Wendy made the first move. She took a step forward, then raising her left leg swung in a circle. Hallie responded by lifting her right leg high, and as in a flash Wendy’s leg with the puncture weapon on the shoe came at her neck, she ducked as she managed to surprise her past boss with a deep gash on her flying calf. Wendy screamed, and by ducking low in agony with the first wound of the fight, avoided a severe second wound as Hallie spun 360 degrees and slashed at where her face would have been.
Wendy rapidly drove her right foot up, sinking her gutting blade into Hallie’s lower belly. Only Hallie’s spinning momentum prevented a rapid gutting and end of the fight, as the blade immediately jerked out, leaving a stab wound that perforated the muscle but did not the damage the intestine coil housed inside the lythe young nude.
Hallie thrust her groin forward in defiance, and she screamed “I can take anything you can dish out, cunt!” The movement revealed another result of the stab wound to her lower abdomen. Her bladder had been punctured, and although it was clearly a very small puncture, a spray of bloodstained piss emerged from the inch-long gash.
The audience laughed as they realized what had happened. Hallie had started Round One by insolently pissing at her opponent, and now she was doing it again in a quite different manner. It would be a medical challenge to restore her ability to take a leak from her cunt, and D-Ring Inc. was notorious for not taking on such expensive challenges. They had a much simpler and entertaining solution for dealing with such injuries.
Suddenly Hallie was in an extremely desperate situation. Even if she won, her chances of taking a brutal bullet for her efforts were greatly enhanced. If Wendy didn’t kill her the MC with his destructive toy would. Any further serious wounds would push her over the brink, making her not worth repairing. She backed up into the ropes, then charged forward, screaming.
Wendy’s hooks grabbed her cheeks, sinking in and pulling hard at her face-flesh, but she ignored the painful distortion of her features and crossing her arms, suddenly jerked them apart, driving her hooks into the outsides of Wendy’s firm breasts, squeezing them together so hard that they seemed to form a single mammary. Pushing as hard as she could, she moved Wendy away, and in that move the bitch had to shift her feet backward to keep her balance.
She also swung her arms wide in an attempt to keep her balance, jerking them out of Hallie’s cheeks, leaving bleeding holes on the beautiful face. Hallie took full advantage, and got the splitting weapon on her right shoe up into the bitch’s lower belly. She pushed again, and this time Wendy went down. Hallie rode with her, keeping herself upright as she went forward, holding the gutting hook on her right shoe embedded in the tight meat of Wendy’s tummy.
“Gotcha, cunt!” Hallie screamed as she hopped her left foot up by Wendy’s side. The downed woman kicked up with both feet, and her gutting blade dug into Hallie’s ass meat, cutting a deep slash around to her hip. Ignoring the pain as she had disciplined herself to do, Hallie kicked forward with her right foot, slicing her sharp shoe blade up through the buckled belly bacon of her foe.
Wendy threw herself back with the shock of what was happening to her, lending her support to the operation and heaved her stomach forward, separating the sliced meat. The first grey bulge of gut emerged from the bloody and widening gap. Hallie kicked again in a rapid series of damaging blows, extending the slit up through her foe’s navel, and didn’t stop until her weapon jammed into the squirming cunt’s lower right rib near the sternum.
Hallie pulled on her right foot but the blade was stuck in the bone, and her foot pulled out of the shoe. She put her bare foot down, but slipped on blood and the MC’s spilled semen, lost her balance and sat down hard on her wounded buttocks. Hallie threw her head back and started laughing hysterically with relief. She was down, but she had won!
She had beaten her boss in a fair fight, with hundreds of witnesses, thousands if you counted the closed-circuit TV audience. Wendy was squirming on her back on the bloodied canvas, with some of her intestines spilling out of the long spreading rip in her belly and dangling over her side. The twisting movement she made in her agony was working her viscera slowly out through the gaping wound, and the remainder was visible to the audience and the cameras through the wide rent in her belly.
Hallie’s eyes caught movement at the side of the ring. The MC was stepping into the ring, his gross erection was stiff and red from abuse, and dribbling semen. The Viagra or Cialis or whatever he was on to maintain his obscenely rigid erection was working well. Hallie noticed immediately his pistol was not in its holster; the big wicked revolver was in his hand. “You’re not finished yet, bitch!” he told her. He was right. She remembered she had to get Wendy’s heart out and into her mouth.
Hallie was deeply concerned that his big handgun was drawn. ‘Fuck,’ she thought. ‘I won the fight fair and square, and they’re still gonna fuckin’ do me!’ She got to her knees, and dug both sets of her hooks into the warm cavity of her split enemy. Wendy reached up and showed her fighting spirit and endurance when she got her hooks into Hallie’s shoulders, then with a jerk locked them into the victor’s meat. She raised her knee to bring her gutting weapon into play, believing in her desperation that somehow she could still win. Hallie twisted, unable to break the lock of the hooks in her shoulders.
She pressed her pelvis into Wendy’s groin, making access to her own belly by that murderous weapon on Wendy’s shoe impossible. Instinctively she focused on her hands, got her hooks into the cunt’s heart and ripped it out of her chest. The scream that the sudden pain produced opened Wendy’s mouth, and in an instant the rapidly pumping organ, still attached by the big blood vessels was jammed between her teeth. Wendy slammed her arm up under Wendy’s chin, forcing her to bite deeply into her own heart. That brought an immediate end to the threat of Wendy’s shoe weapon.
A long stream of steaming urine rose from between Wendy’s spread legs, and a stool slid out from between her squeezed buttocks. Her body heaved, and with a long audible sigh she slumped in death. She was the second fighter to die, and in that moment Hallie became the official winner of the organization’s first two-round death fight. She had made history!
She looked over at the MC, who was standing as if mesmerized, not looking at her. She was confused until she noticed the small device inserted in his ear. Someone was talking to him. He was receiving instructions! They were planning on how they were going to kill her!
Ms. Helene Brazier spoke into the small microphone attached to her headset from the TV control room, a station she preferred whenever an interesting bout was on the card. “How does she look?” she asked.
“Ready for a nice headshot,” the MC replied, “Unless you would prefer a blast from inside her rectum. Her cunt’s messed up and she’s bleeding piss from that wound in her belly.”
“Does she look like she might be able to recover?” Ms. Helene liked to see the brutal dispatch of a bitch in the ring as much as anyone, and had no personal feelings about any of the fighters. She was too professional for that. All of the cunts in the system were disposable, and this little bitch was no different. She also had a great business sense, and saw the value of Hallie continuing her career in the ring a bit longer, with her potential to generate huge profits for the organization. Her death would be a small price to pay for the enjoyment it would bring even those who had bet on her surviving. She was also positioned to genereate substantial revenue if she continued one more fight.
Replacing her with another outstanding young fighter would be a simple and inexpensive task. Recruitment of gorgeous young cunts, produced in a steady stream wherever the organization operated, cost less than $1,000. apiece. That low cost was thanks to the high volume the recruitment team regularly achieved. With the investment of a couple of thousand dollars more, a young woman could be conditioned and trained as a huge money-maker in the fight ring.
Because of the extreme nature of the business, a death was never considered a loss. Life at the fight casino had proven to be cheap, and none of the D-Ring fighters was irreplaceable. The gamblers continued to come because of the continued escalation of ring violence, and Ms. Helene’s job was to keep both the rate and the style of kills growing.
On the other hand, if Hallie were reasonably repairable it might be worth the effort. There were on staff excellent surgeons for special needs. In addition to her winning attitude and skills, she showed promise for further development, and the temperament and adaptability necessary for some of the special events the organization was continually developing. She also had the instincts and morality of a recruiter, and might even have some management potential. If she lasted only one more fight she could potentially earn millions more for the organization. “Can she stand up?”
“I’ll see,” the MC said. He turned to face Hallie. “Get up, bitch!”
Hallie knew better than to resist instructions from her superiors. She struggled to her feet, and bending over, jerked her right shoe out of gutted carcass of the Wendy. She put the bloody shoe on and stood, with blood streaming down her body from her extensive wounds.
“If she can make it on her own,” Ms. Helene said in her gentle business-like voice, “take her out of the ring. If she falters, drag her back in and give her a terminal dose of lead.”
Hallie saw the disappointed look on the MC’s face when she stood upright, and had no idea how to accurately read his look. He opened the ropes for her, and watched carefully for her to stumble as she moved toward the opening. She put her entire mind and body to work on doing what should have been a simple task. She was aware that any sign of physical or emotional weakness on her part would not bode well for her survival.
She was a survivor and a winner, and had just proven herself to everyone. She grinned broadly as she thrust her weapon-equipped fists in the air in an expression of triumph before stepping off the stage. The audience watched with mixed feelings as the triumphant death-fighter got out of the ring and gingerly made her way down the six stairs then made the long trek out of the casino. The painful walk seemed to take forever. It looked like she would live to fight again.
“I want you to see the preparation for our most outrageous event. You will never have heard of the Jillhammer.”
“What’s that?” Hallie was seldom unable to even guess at a sport, but this one had her stumped.
“Come with me, we have some ladies being prepared starting today.” She got up and Hallie followed her out of the office and down to an underground level she had not visited. They followed a hallway and about half way along entered a medium sized room with big glass windows to another room the same size. It was equipped with a big workbench, a large tool cabinet and a pair of cots. There were two burly male handlers, a female technician and two striking nude female bodybuilders.
“Rachael and Carmen were recruited from the same body building gym, one that produces world-class bodies on many of its clients. It has 11 world titles for female builders it produced, and more than 70 national titles to support that remarkable success record. These two are the most successful of two dozen body building recruits taken in a three week period from leading training gyms throughout the mid-west, all of them specially obtained for our Jillhammer events.”
“What’s a Jillhammer?”
“Big specially mounted weapons. You’ll see them shortly. They put them in the fighter’s cunt. Before being permanently fitted with Jillhammers, all of the competitors to wear them have to obtain substantial ring and fight experience. Because of the weight of the devices, only big powerful women can use them. We use only top-level body builders in this sport, because of the strength and endurance required to fight with these heavy weapons implanted in their wombs. After six months of training and ring fights, 1/3 of them had not survived the rigors of fight life, but in their deaths had earned D-Ring Inc. millions of dollars in gambling revenues.
These two gorgeous recruits have taken to the ring as if they were born into fighting, and have fought in D-Ring casinos around the world. Between them they have a total of 13 ring kills, in addition to causing at least eighteen in-the-ring dispatches. They are good and know it. They were pleased to be re-united, because they had not seen each other since their novice fight, in which they had produced a rare draw when neither was able to continue because of massive blood loss.
“They were worth restoring, which was a simple matter of careful stitching and transfusions, and they had been quickly brought back to fighting trim, each of them back in the ring within three weeks. They had both caused a ring-dispatch of their opponent their very next fight, and their careers were in full swing, both assigned to death fights from that time forward.
“Now they are being prepared for a specialty of the D-Ring organization, a particularly bizarre competition that was created more than 20 years earlier ago called the Jillhammer Fight. Both had witnessed such fights, but knew little of the preparation required to stage them. These incredibly violent contests are so destructive they can only be billed as death fights, and either contestant is likely to die in the ring, because damage is usually so severe that the winner often has to be dispatched in the ring.
The Jillhammer Fights have proven to be one of the most productive for the casinos because of their remarkable visual impact, and are staged in one of our casinos somewhere around the world every month. What makes them attractive to the competitors is that both contestants are in full and constant orgasm from very early in the contest, and their level of sexual stimulation grows steadily as the fight progresses.”
The two muscle-bound women were free to move about in the preparation compound in which they had been held for the past four weeks. During that time every ninety minutes they were required to lay back on the bench in the middle of the room, 24 hours a day, when a handler came to turn the device in their wombs a quarter turn. it was a uterus expander, which drew a shrill scream each time it was adjusted, gradually opening their cervix. When inserted it had painfully stretched the tiny opening to three quarters of an inch, and now the stretching period was complete, with the cervix opening a full four inches wide, making their uterus an extension of their vaginal sheath, providing these enormously muscular young women with what could reasonably considered a sixteen inch deep cunt.
They would need every bit of that depth to engulf the bizarre tool their enlarged wombs were about to accommodate. Hallie gasped as the first of these was taken out of the tool cabinet and laid on the bench. Ms. Helene explained to her what she was seeing. The Jillhammer was a specially designed and built reduced version of the Jackhammer, a tool with a powerful pneumatic action capable of breaking up cement.
The original is driven by compressed air, but the Jillhammer, designed exclusively for women, is entirely self-contained, driven by a powerful electric battery attached to the end of the device's body. Both the powerful battery and the body of the Jillhammer are fully engulfed in the female fighter's greatly enlarged and deepened cunt. The shaft with the battery on the end is sixteen inches long, five inches high and four inches wide, and because of its outlandish size, the incredible weapon is entirely engulfed in both the vagina and uterus. Permanently. With their cervix training complete, the body of the heavy tool was now ready for insertion.
Both women had wrist and ankle cuffs put on, and Carmen was instructed to stand against the far wall. The handlers strapped Rachael to the workbench face up, her arms held wide-spread by fastening links on the side of the bench, then her muscular legs were bent under the bench and her ankle cuffs were attached to links on the bench's legs, holding them wide apart. The battery, part of the device at the back end, is the heaviest part of the tool, and it goes into the wearer's body the deepest.
It took both strong male handlers to insert the big Jillhammer into Rachael’s womb, thrusting it repeatedly until the inner flesh of the extended vagina took it to its full depth. Only a couple of inches of the body of the device remained outside the grasp of Rachael's greatly distended cunt. The remainder tapered forward to the dual 1.5 inch chucks that would hold the pounding shaft and small saw.
“These are our most sophisticated killing tools,” Ms. Helene said. “When a woman is fitted with one of these, she has the ability to do incredible violence to her opponent. It takes a crew to clean up what’s left after the fight.”
“That’s totally incredible!” Hallie exclaimed. “Too bad I’m not a big muscle bitch like them! Imagine what I could do with one of those mean puppies stuffed into my cunt!”
The attachments were dangerous and sharp, and would not be added until the ladies and completed their training and were ready in several weeks to enter the ring. There was further training to be done, and time was needed for their vaginas to contract sufficiently to completely grasp the deep groves and raised ridges on the body of the tool, which was designed to be used exclusively as an enormously destructive weapon, and was of necessity a permanent fitting in the female fighter’s womb.
It had to be fully gripped by their reproductive organ before the ladies could begin the extensive training necessary to become an effective Jillhammer fighter. Their cunt meat literally grows into the groves, which takes some time, but with a good tight fit is worth the wait. Putting the huge device in place had been a difficult task; once the uterus and vagina had contracted to grip it firmly, removing it the way it went in would be impossible.
This extensive human renovation took time. Their genitalia and gonads were in the process of being converted from a system to produce offspring into a grasping system for a heavy killing weapon. The device was made so that the battery could be fully recharged while in place, through connectors in the device’s external jaw, so that in the case a woman survived a Jillhammer fight she could take part in another by recharging the deeply seated battery after her wounds healed. Once a woman was killed her weapon would be cut out of her for re-use in another big fighter, also specially recruited and trained in the fight ring to be an effective Jillhammer fighter.
Rachael thought the insertion was complete, but there was one more piece to be put in place. One of the handlers took a small device from his kit, shaped like and the size of a .45 bullet with a ten-inch length of wire attached. A large bore catheter was inserted into her urethra, and the device was pushed all the way up into her bladder. The other handler held a small plastic device with a button on it. they released Rachael's wrists while holding her on her back on the table. The handler passed the small device to Rachael and told her to push the button. When she did she suddenly bucked, thrusting her hips high as she screamed.
"That's Sparkie at work," he said, "just a small reminder if you forget what you are supposed to do. You'll get some training with that between now and your event, and then we'll replace it with another with a full charge for the event. The wire acts as an antenna for actuation, and is also used to pull the device out when we wish to replace it."
They released Rachael from the bench and attached Carmen, fitting her in the same manner with her large cunt-held weapon and her own bladder-mounted Sparkie. On both women about four inches of the antenna wire stuck out of their urethras, because the Sparkie in their bladders was six inches from their vagina’s vestibule, but a full ten inches of antenna was the length required for the frequency used.
In addition to the posture training encouraged by the Sparkies, the two muscle-bound women had much work to do in getting used to carrying that extraordinary weight embedded in their stretched cunts, and to become nimble in their movement in order to manipulate them to advantage in their upcoming fight. It would take much work, but in achieving their level of body conditioning they had both proved their work ethic.
During the next two weeks Hallie visited the observation room frequently to watch the progress of Rachael and Carmen’s Jillhammer training. For that entire time the girls had some company - through the glass in the room where Hallie watched the loading of the Jillhammers were a pair of ten-year-old girls working 4 hour shifts, replaced with two more little girls the same age for the next shift. Carmen and Rachael wore four inch spike heeled shoes that showed off their beautiful feet and muscular legs to advantage as they moved, the incredible weapons gripped in their wombs, forcing them to slightly bend their knees as they walked, unable to get their knees less than a foot apart.
They were required to wear these shoes for a 12-hour period, which included their sleep time, which was usually 5 or 6 hours. Then they were required to remove the shoes, and remain up on their toes for a full twelve hours. This special trainng regime was necessary because with the weight of the large Jillhammer added to their own weight, walking up on their toes was not easy, despite their exceptional conditioning. In the first few days their ankles hurt, the big muscles of their legs ached and their calves cramped. This conditioning was necessary in order that would become well conditioned to being agile while carrying the considerable extra weight.
The three shifts of pairs of little girls controlled the Sparkies in the two women, giving them a bladder jolt each time they dropped from their toes. The children were fitted with smaller Sparkies inserted up into their bladders. If a little girl was slow to react when one of the women momentarily relaxed, she got an electric bladder jolt herself from her trainer. When they gave the women a shock they were given ice as a reward. These children came from Florida where hey had won their first fights in the fight pit deep in the bowels of a docked ship, and were now being conditioned to sadistically inflict pain without remorse, using a proven punishment/reward system to train them to enjoy it.
Ms. Helene joined Hallie in the observation room one day. “In the first couple of years of Jillhammer fights the women had full use of their arms,” she told her. Full use of their arms, otherwise not useful in the fight, allowed for better balance and the opportunity to grasp the opponent. What ended that freedom was a fight in which one bitch quickly got onto her back, used her powerful arms and legs to hold her opponent above her, and drilled open the young muscle-bound cunt's belly, giving herself a gut shower in an incredibly vicious fight that lasted less than 30 seconds.
That was a hold she adapted from the old style of wrestling, but from which there is no retreat if a powerful drill is in use. The kill was spectacular, but when another fighter who had witnessed that first event repeated the same strategy the rules were immediately changed, and Jillhammer fighters were required to fight with their elbows tightly bound behind their backs, which makes retaining balance tougher as they parry for position.
“When a woman goes down she has to roll to get back up, and if she raises her buttocks, which is the best way to get stable, she risks taking the Jillhammer up the ass, which is the most popular strategy to end a fight. The only training the cunts get is in how to get up after losing their footing, and how to avoid getting reamed in the rectum, because that is also a quick killer, with virtually no chance to extract the rectum from the pounding and splitting drill.
“Another problem with being invaded in the rectum during a Jillhammer fight is that the weapon’s control is in the anus. Literally. The small mini-plug jack on the lower side of the exposed jaw of the weapon is where the control button is plugged in. The lead is less than three inches long, because the control is fitted into the fighter’s rectum just before the fight. She is trained to use her sphincter to squeeze the button, turning on the heavy device in her womb. By relaxing her grip the disc stays in her butt hole but the weapon switches off, saving valuable charge in the big battery buried permanently in her uterus. Conserving battery life during a fight is a key strategy, because it would never do to run out of juice while the fight is in progress.
“These Jillhammer fights are very special, and because we charge each gambler a $1,500. entry fee for these extra special events, we make certain the gamblers get an extra special show. Not only are there additional ring kills, but also we always produce an exceptional surprise event prior to the main event on the card. It makes for a very special evening, and if you do your next assignment well, I’ll see if I can arrange for you to attend, perhaps even to sit in the audience.”
“That would be outstanding!” Hallie said, showing her excitement. She had no idea what assignment she would be given next, but determined to exceed their expectations. She guessed it would be a major task, perhaps preparing for another private party, because it would be at least a month before these big ladies would go into the ring with these huge implanted weapons.
Hallie enjoyed watching this rectal switch control part of the training. One at a time the women were fitted with their anal switch, and practiced turning the big device on and off. It took nearly an hour for them to get used to the interaction between the squeeze of their rectum and the heavy vibration of the powerful weapon. The vibration was so intense it brought them to orgasm, and kept them there as long as the device was running. While one was training her collar was fastened to a wall-anchored chain so she was able to reach only one side of the room.
Her opponent had her collar chained to a loop on the far wall, putting her out of danger of being damaged while in training. The woman with the rectal switch enabled was given a two foot long and foot-thick log with instructions to reduce it to sawdust. This gave the big beautiful bitches, one at a time, the chance to get used to controlling their weapon, and proved to be excellent training. They learned that there was just over twenty minutes of running time on their weapon until its battery was exhausted. This meant they had to use the switch judiciously if they didn’t want to run out of power while a fight was in progress. This would be a fatal error.
The jaws held the inch-thick pounding shaft as the principal weapon. Just in front of that was a ten-inch blade that resembled a large jigsaw. It was a strong saw blade that was designed for cutting through a woman’s bones. The intent appeared to be to enable the women to dismember their opponent during a fight. For practice purposes each woman was given a fifteen-foot pine tree that was laid on the floor. Their training consisted of cutting off all the tree’s limbs, then cutting all parts into short lengths of firewood, using the saw blades on their outrageous cunt-mounted weapons. Their arms were not bound for the training, allowing them to hold the wood as they cut it. This was necessary because the longer pounding shaft prevented them from getting the saw blades into wood that was too close to the floor.
As they worked on this task the floor was quickly covered with sharp pine needles, which created an amusing discomfort for them. Hallie was excited watching these bright and very fit muscular women, highly aroused by the big vibrating tools in their wombs, working the brutal pounding and sawing weapons on the wood, while standing on their tiptoes. They looked like they had amazing metal cocks, and with their big bulging breasts made a totally outrageous site as they trained for the totally debauched and deadly battle.
The little girls were quite active with their Sparkie buttons, giving the women a jolt each time either of them lowered off her toes, even part way, and when they were not quick enough, one or the other of the little girls beside Hallie would scream as she took a jolt from her own little bladder-mounted Sparkie. The girls’ trainers were also having fun with this training.
Both Rachael and Carmen ran out of power in their weapons during their training several times, and had to sit on the floor with their legs spread, the obscene weapons thrusting from their spread and stuffed genitals, as their handlers removed the rectal switches as a safety measure and then plugged in the chargers to restore power to the cunt-buried batteries. The big Lithium Ion batteries were on rapid-charge, but were so big they took two hours to obtain a full charge.
Hallie also observed the two big gorgeous fight bitches keeping up their incredible muscle development in the gym, and found it very amusing to see the extremely muscular ladies working out nude on the fitness machines with their weapons thrusting out of their metal-crammed genitals. With their cunts jammed with these large metal devices they would never wear panties again. Sweat ran down their bellies, over their clean-shaved pubic mounds and down their flared inner lips to drip from the open jaws of the chuck that would hold the pounding post and saw blade in place.
Even when working out on the treadmills and cycle machines they were required to remain up on their toes, with the little girls armed with their Sparkie switches working the devices every time Rachael or Carmen lowered their heels. Whenever they received an internal shock they screamed, their body jolted so hard their big firm breasts bounced, then they promptly elevated onto their toes again. The requirement to remain up on tiptoes was contributing to the necessary conditioning of their powerful legs and ankles while providing everyone who watched their training an impressive view of the outstanding female limbs.
Each charge of the Sparkies was good for about 40 painful jolts, and during the training period the devices were replaced twice. As their training progressed the need for prompting via sharp shots from their internal Sparkies diminished, until the cute little sadistic girls were no longer needed. They were each given their partners switch, and got to give each other painful electric jolts in their bladders just for the fun of it. The bizarre game of cruelty lost its appeal when they realized the only reward for giving pain to the other little girl was a return shot inside her own bladder. After a week the children were gone, having learned well their cruelty lesson. It was a lesson that would remain with them as long as they lived. They had both thoroughly enjoyed the fun of hurting the big women who could not retaliate.
The pretty little nude girls had responded well to their training, and now were both merciless sadists. They would do well in the fight ring, where no sign of mercy is allowed. Hallie wished she had got into D-Ring’s programs at that age, so that she could have learned all she now knew about the pleasure of being the cause of another woman’s grief, and would not have wasted her youth on boys and particularly on that asshole Brad.
Hallie was given a thorough examination, and then a series of three shots a few hours apart that would ensure the gender of the sprog growing inside her. She didn’t particularly care if it was a boy or girl, but knew the organization would prefer that it be a girl. She was also back in Chicago in time to witness Rachael and Carmen’s Jillhammer fight, a contest she desperately wanted to see.
Because of her success in Zagreb, Hallie was allowed to witness it, as Ms. Helene had promised her. In preparation she was given temporary but very significant breast and buttocks enhancement through a three hour injection program, was given a beautiful red micro-mini dress and jet black wig to wear, and allowed to sit in the front row among the gamblers at ringside for the entire evening of violent fight entertainment.
Hallie had never looked so good. She kept fit, and with only two inches added to her slender waistline, did not yet show her condition. Her skin was fresh and glowing, she was in perfect condition, and the men on either side of her openly admired her remarkable cleavage and long confidently crossed legs and red string 5 inch spike heeled sandals. Her bare legs were visible right up to the hip-high hem of her impossibly tiny red dress, which had a slit up to her waist.
The expensive black wig went very well with the red theme, and it had been coiffed to sit high on her head, with it’s black curls dangling down her cheeks in front of the large gold hoop earrings she wore. Hallie chose to wear no undies, because recently she felt more feminine when she was naked under her dress or jeans. She was dressed to kill, in a manner of speaking, but on this evening was there as decoration just to add sparkle to the audience of gamblers and to enjoy the show, a rare treat for a D-Ring Business Woman.
She had a feeling she had seen the men who flanked her before, but could not recall them in context. She wondered if they had been at the island event, or perhaps in these very seats when she had been in the two round deathfight in which she had defeated and killed Vivian and Wendy, but she couldn’t be sure. They were paying more than usual attention to her, but then she was more than usually attractive tonight in her tiny red dress, barely covering the skilful enhancements to her breasts and buttocks.
The MC was the one who had officiated at her novice fight. He was not the excessive ejaculator who was so disgusting in his behavior in her premiere death fight, the triple-bill event; Ms. Helene had told her the following week that MC had overdosed on stimulants and erection sustainers, and he had died from a massive heart attach in the ring after the second fight on the card.
He had just dispatched a pair of fighters who had broken each others’ body, and was jerking his smuck-spurting cock when his heart went into massive seizure. His body had bucked and heaved as he thrashed and strained on his back, and his amazing erection had spurted his spunk right up until he went limp in death. He had been a dedicated entertainer, always extreme and outrageous whenever he worked, and the gamblers found his painful death as entertaining as his life.
As he climbed into the ring, the MC looked her straight in the eye, clearly admiring the gorgeous young woman in the front row, but did not recognize her. He had only seen her that once, and in her novice fight at which he had presided she was nude and without a wig. When he reached the center of the ring he twirled so that his tails swirled and his exposed erection bobbed in time to the rock music that was blasting on the house sound system.
He introduced the evening, informing the gamblers they would be wise to invest any winnings in the final bout, which was not just a death fight, but would be an amazing Jillhammer bout, featuring muscular women bearing the heavy cunt-mounted meat pounding weapons. They knew this, of course, because they had paid handsomely to witness the incredible event, but it was important he validate their expectations.
In the evening’s preliminary bout a pair of tall slender nude girls who were introduced as university freshmen had their wrists cuffed to the edge of a three foot square wooden frame lowered horizontally from the grid above the ring. When they were attached, it was raised so that their arms were pulled high and wide, allowing them only kicks with their bare feet as the means of attack and defence.
Their handlers used stiff riding crops to slap their bare meat so that the gamblers could judge their reaction before placing their bets. As the novice kick battle began it became quickly apparent their toenails had been hardened or augmented and sharpened.
Both soon displayed ample streaks of blood, and they both showed they were in good shape, kicking as high as necessary to inflict bruises and deep toenail scratches to each other’s bare meat everywhere. After nearly ten minutes of rapid and damaging action, one girl surprised and delighted the gamblers knocked the other unconscious with a brutal kick to the jaw.
The girl who took the vicious kick slumped, her head hanging low and her arms looking like they were being excessively strained. The other girl kicked at her cunt but because she was out cold her legs hung together in the natural female style, looking sexy but not providing the necessary good access to the unconscious young woman’s battered womb.
At that point the preliminary fight, likely the first ring competition for each of them, was judged to be complete. Hallie was amused at how nerdy and innocent the two girls looked in their novice fight. She wondered if she had looked so out of it at her novice fight. She knew the winner would get a reality check at the after-party, strapped to that terrible cart to take a mass rape by invited gamblers.
They were both probably still under the delusion they were free to go home with a pay check in their fists after a shower and some medical attention to some of the damage they had done to each other, which definitely required attention. Both of these lythe young ladies had a steep learning curve ahead of them in their new life with D-Ring Inc. In this business girls quickly became seasoned fighters or were dead, killed in the ring for the entertainment of gamblers. Hallie knew as well as anyone there were no other options.
An electric cattle prod was thrust into the unconscious girl’s vagina and with a powerful jolt she was awakened. The severe internal contraction caused by that sadistic high-voltage electric shock forced her to release a firm thick three-inch long stool. The two handlers clipped leather leads onto their collars and the young blood-smeared nudes were released from the frame, which was then raised, no longer required.
The girl who had lost the fight and produced the dark stout turd was required to pick it up and insert it into her own slender fuck chute, encouraged by slashes from the riding crop, pushing it in so deep it disappeared inside her pretty cleanly shaved womb. This punishment was not painful but rather very humiliating. That was the price of losing. Their handlers removed the novices, one smiling with elation and the other quietly sobbing, from the ring as the MC climbed in to introduce the following act.
The next event was one Hallie had never before seen. Six buxom junior high school girls, each wearing a different colored ribbon in her hair and high heeled shoes but otherwise nude, were placed in the ring, each armed with a slender black wooden two-foot long club with brass studs on the end. This event was going to be a free-for-all, and the sole objective was to be the last left standing. Although it was each girl for herself, it quickly became clear to the youthful combatants that cooperation was useful in the early going.
Hallie loved watching the violent teens mercilessly attacking each other, smacking each others’ breasts, shoulders, buttocks and cunts with the vicious weapons. The brass studs broke skin, giving the streaking the flesh of the melee of battling nude teens with the ample red color the gamblers loved, accompanied by screams as ribs were cracked, a forearm was broken, and all of the girls took deep bruises from the powerful blows they endured.
At first it appeared the girl with the blue ribbon was doing better than the others, but she took a violent upward blow behind the ear, which knocked her head violently to the side, and she collapsed onto her breasts on the bloodied canvas, her ass propped in the air, unconscious.
While two girls exchanged vicious blows in a corner the girl with the broken arm became a target of the other two, and she dropped her club as she was pummelled on the torso, and before she dropped they managed to smash one of her hip bones, crack several ribs and smash one of her collar bones. Her breasts were soon turning purple, the perky young girlie-hooters swollen and split from their merciless beating.
The despairing nude, screaming hysterically, turned her back on her assailants in a failed attempt to protect herself, and the two pounded her back and sides, bruising her kidneys. She pissed herself and then, as she dropped to her knees, produced a string of fat firm stools. When she threw her head back both clubs struck her face, one of them smashing her nose and the second splitting several of her teeth. She was not faring well.
In the far corner, as the girl with the green ribbon started to fade from the incredible exertion of the battle, her opponent with the red ribbon began to dominate her. Both had done considerable bruising to each other, but the girl with the red ribbon went at her opponent’s legs with the intent of making her drop. She took violent blows to her back and head because she had her own baton low, but at last the girl with the green ribbon began to sag, and when her right kneecap was struck on the point she went down.
Now her rival went at her head, and would have crushed her undefended skull, but at that moment the two who had put down the girl with the yellow ribbon came at her, having learned the value in a combined attack. The two of them determined they were going to kill this one, who looked like the most likely to do them harm, attempting to kill er at any cost.
The girl with the orange ribbon had retrieved the baton from one of the fallen girls, and coming up behind the girl hammering her downed foe’s head, she was able to thrust the studded end into her rectum, and with a violent thrust drove it deep into the startled teen’s colon. She spun to face her attackers, and with a vicious swing of her bloodied baton managed to slash the studs across all four breasts of her attackers.
The surprised teens stepped back, and she swiftly moved between them. Spinning, she lashed them with her club in the only move she could imagine. The girl with the purple ribbon attached her, the orange ribbon girl went down to her knees and when the spinning teen’s back was to her grasped the deeply anchored baton sticking from between her buttocks and jerked it upward. The audience was startled at the effectiveness of this move; the attacked girl pitched forward, her round firm breasts slamming into the blood-streaked canvas.
The girl with the orange ribbon promptly thrust her own baton into the downed girl’s cunt, providing her with a second wooden handle in her groin. Grasping the handle of the anus-gripped baton with both hands, she put her full weight into driving the wooden weapon further into the stuffed organ, thrusting it sadistically to the full depth of the young fuck-chute, then through the narrow cervix and into the screaming fourteen-year-old’s uterus.
She had made an extremely serious error in judgement. By driving her own weapon deep into the womb of her adversary, she was now defenceless, and the girl with the purple ribbon who had teamed with her until this point now turned on her, battering the kneeling unarmed girl mercilessly with the studded baton.
With half a dozen brutal blows to the head the kneeling girl was knocked unconscious. The girl with the purple ribbon in her hair thrust her fists in the air in victory. The MC lept into the ring, but was surprised when the girl with the green ribbon, sitting in the corner, grabbed the baton sticking out of the raised hips of the girl who had so badly beaten her, and struggled to her feet.
She swung the baton with all her strength and struck the celebrating girl between the shoulder blades. The startled victor spun around and swung her slender hardwood club, crushing the cheekbone of her attacker, who collapsed once more, this time lying motionless. The victor dropped onto her, jerked her head severely back by the hair, and jammed her baton down the girl’s throat. Although the girl was probably dead, it was because of her efforts the first girl would die, and she would rightfully claim her first ring kill.
The MC made a cursory examination of the girl with the broken arm, then thrust his gun into her mouth, aimed upward and pulled the trigger, dispatching her to the delight of the audience. The top and back of her head were missing, violently disbursed across the big ring as the bullet ripped out her brain and pulverized bits of her skull.
He checked the others, and got a round of applause from the jaded gamblers when he thrust the barrel of his big revolver into the rectum of the girl with the red ribbon in her hair. The young girl squealed as she realized what was about to happen. She tried to twist off the muzzle, still warm from the discharge into the mouth of her friend, but the MC was very experienced, and easily kept the barrel in place by dropping a foot onto the small of her back.
“I’m sure this lovely young lady could be restored to entertain us another day, but that means you would all miss out on enjoying another cunt death, and I certainly don’t want to disappoint you.” With that he lifted her hips by one of her lovely legs, and blasted a bullet into her guts. She bulged beautifully at the waist, but had little muscle damage so remained intact, although she was largely pulverized inside, and was dead before he got to remove the barrel from the grip of her anus.
Hallie knew that the lives of these kids were very cheap because pretty and daring junior high school girls were so easy to obtain. Three kills from a fight between six girls was a very easy loss for D-Ring to absorb, and snuffing out a young life in the ring was a big part of the satisfaction that kept the gamblers coming back. Hallie would not have been surprised if the MC had forced the victor to kill the remaining two, but that was not to be this time.
The handlers and cleanup crew did their work as the naked bet-collecting girls worked the audience, stuffing their wombs with large denomination bills and making certain everyone who had an opinion on the outcome of the next contest got to place his or her bet. Hallie was aware of the attention she was attracting, and remembered she would have to thank Ms. Helene for providing her with such a provocative dress.
It pressed her enlarged breasts up into a wonderful cleavage, barely covering her erect nipples. If she opened her knees just a bit anyone passing between her and the ring would see her beautifully sculpted and enlarged cunt and the stout stud she now wore through the pierced hood of her clit. She was hot and knew it. Hallie felt she was at the peak of her outrageous and exciting career. For her everything was possible.
can't wait to see more
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What are ages for the younger competitors at these snuff fights?