Jessica Wright vs. Neske Alapo

Neske was having trouble getting up. Jessica thought it was adorable. If the smaller woman was having such a rough go of it, it was really the least Jessica could do to help. She walked forward, and grabbed Neske by her hair. In one swift move, she summoned Neske up from the hard concrete floor, and appraised the woman who was now in front of her.

Jessica found her wanting. Pathetic even. With a quick pivot, she thrust Neske towards the wall of the cage. They were not far now, and Neske was not a particularly heavy woman. She wanted Neske to slam into the steel face first, but she was going to take whatever it was that she got.

Neske made it up to one knee before taunt handful of fingers grasped her hair and hoisted her to her feet. The floor had made itself Neske's personal enemy in the past few seconds, but Jessica seemed to have no problem reminding Neske who she really needed to worry about. Walked over to the cage surrounding the ring, Neske was tossed face-first towards the steel barrier. With a squeal, she went tumbling back to her knees, clutching her face with one hand while the other grasped the cage wall.

Jessica walked over to her hapless opponent, brimming with enthusiasm. This girl was a total jobber, and Jessica knew that she could do absolutely anything that she wanted to do. That was bad news for Neske, because what Jessica liked doing usually involved tons of pain, and even more humiliation. Soon, she was looming over her opponent. It was somewhat cute the way that she clung to the cage, as if she had a chance of winning.

Jessica grabbed her arm, and pulled her from the side. She could not have this woman let even the faintest glimpse of hope. That was not her way. No, her way involved bringing great shame upon this woman. Jessica grabbed at Neske's top, and tried to pull it off. It was high time that all of the perverts in the audience got a little bit of sex to go with their heaping dose of violence.

The cage wall was a solid, pleasantly cold support for Neske to rest on, breathing heavily enough for her shoulders to visibly rise and fall. But it was also a reminder that she was trapped, a reminder that froze her and kept her from fleeing when she saw Jessica approaching, just for the moment it took for her to close the distance. Hoisted up to her feet by one arm, Neske panicked when she saw one hand reach for her top. The fire that her last and only win had started was not completely snuffed out, yet, and in a moment of desperation she threw a fist into Jessica's visible belly button. Still, she moved too late- by the time she threw her own punch, the sharp crackle of fabric tearing signaled the end of her thin, white shirt.

Jessica felt two distinct, yet complementary emotions. The first was a sick sense of pride. She had stripped Neske of her top, causing a wave of derision and mockery to be cast down upon the hapless Neske. The second was one of anger. Even now that Jessica had rid her of her top, Neske was fighting back. A quick punch to the gut ended Jessica's perverse triumph. She stumbled backwards, not quite sure how to interpret Neske's resistance.

A look of pure disgust appeared on her face. Jessica came roaring back and sent her own punch straight into Neske's stomach. She did not mind the stomach punching game, not one bit. The Violent Violet always knew that she could hit way harder than almost anyone at this sorry excuse for a league, let alone the woman in front of her. Jessica was coming, and she was coming with strength and fury.

Even in her attack of desperation, Neske wasn't expecting much. If her previous matches, and her current predicament, had taught her anything, it was that everyone but her was basically invincible, and a part of Neske was fully prepared for her hand to bounce ineffectually off of Jessica's abs like it was hard concrete. But, to her brief, pleasant surprise, her fist seemed to make contact with human flesh instead, even causing the larger woman to recoil.

That short success, if anything, only served to make Neske that much more unprepared for what would only reaffirm her initial feelings. Jessica's own punch back felt like being tackled by a wrecking ball, hard enough to make Neske keel over with a spit-laden grunt, and Neske got the feeling that was hardly going to be the end of it.

Jessica's fist sank into Neske's flesh. It was a good feeling, a pure feeling, unadulterated by timid emotions like restraint or respect. It was Jessica in her rawest form - unyielding, uncompromising, unafraid. In response, Neske could do little other than double over and grunt, which filled Jessica with an emotion that she could not quite put a name to.

Whatever it was, Jessica wanted more of it, and she wanted it as soon as possible. She grabbed Neske's hair, and moved to stand her up. Her left hand would hold the smaller woman steady, while her right hand would come slamming in for another hard punch to the belly. Jessica wanted to eviscerate this woman's stomach. And if she saw Neske's breasts again while she was standing her up, well, that wouldn't be so bad either...

Sweating and winded, Neske gave off a groan rather than put up any resistance when she was gripped by the hair and stood up fully, her hat long since abandoned during the match. BAM! A another wrecking ball came slamming into her belly, and her eyes went wide with pain. Neske coughed pitifully and for a moment it felt like she might go completely limp. But if she had one quality that helped her in the ring (and sometimes it really felt like she did just have the one), it was her nearly inhuman stubbornness. For the time being, that stubbornness really just kept her from rag-dolling completely, but after a few coughs left her lips, she used what strength she had to keep rigid and standing in the best act of defiance she could muster.

Jessica enjoyed the feeling of flesh on flesh. The hard knuckle slammed into Neske's soft stomach about as fast as she could get it to go, and the tight muscles in her arm were more than just powerful displays. The Violent Violet half expected Neske to go flying backwards or explode into a red mist, but all that the smaller woman did was cough. Stand, and cough. For a second, Jessica marveled at the woman who had the misfortune of being her opponent this evening.

But then she quickly got to work. She swore that Neske would not be standing for long. She grabbed the back of Neske's head, and tried to force the woman to double over, at which point she would attempt to force the woman's head between her legs. From there, it would be all fundamental. She would attempt to grab Neske's waist, and hoist the woman in the air, upside down. Jessica was not ready to slam her down yet. She wanted Neske to know what was about to happen.

Another blow to her stomach and more of Neske's saliva spilled onto the concrete, and in a moment her face was squeezed by a pair of firm, but supple thighs. And the moment that Jessica's sweaty hands wrapped over Neske's bruised midsection, she had an idea of where this was going.

Though to say she knew what was about to happen was not really accurate either. As she dangled upside down, exhausted but painfully present to her situation, she wasn't sure whether or not she was going to be conscious in a few moments. She wasn't sure if she would stay awake and feel her teeth grind into her skull and her spine push in on itself. She wasn't sure if she was going to see her blood, or her brains, out there on the concrete. Hell, whether or not she was really going to survive was on the table at this point. All she knew is that it wasn't going to be a great time.