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Authors: JenniferKacey
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bell rang, and Creed held up her mouth guard, just as The Cage began its descent to enclose them in, again. “When you fuck her, I want you to make her squirt all over the ring. And I want every last person in this auditorium to hear her begging for you to make her come. Understand, little girl?”
Facing him, she gazed into his eyes and bit her lip. “Yes, Daddy.” Taking her mouth guard, she may have licked his thumb. Remove may and have .
Just as the metal lowered enough to cut off their contact, he growled. The sound was low enough only she could hear it over the roar of the crowd.
Stepping forward, she drug just a bit, giving everyone the impression she was tired.
That was actually correct. But she wasn’t physically exhausted. She was tired of holding back. Tired of trying to be something she wasn’t.
She was a Raper. One of the best they’d ever see. And the cocky redhead eyeing her from a couple feet away was about to meet her match.
Centering herself to only the other fighter, she blocked everything else out with laser-like precision as The Cage finished its descent, sealing them into the ring.
“Fighter ready?” the ref asked her.
She nodded.
“Fighter ready?” he asked Layla.
She snarled or some kind of approximation of an answer.
“And… fight !” The ref moved just far enough away to avoid Layla’s foot as it almost collided with his face.
The other woman was an aggressive fighter, which had served her well, but she left herself wide open for defensive measures and offensive tactics to gain the upper hand.
KC blocked the kick and slammed her fist into the woman’s upper thigh. The blow knocked her off balance, and she went down. Rolling with it, she ended up on the balls of her feet, charging KC again.
Punches came at her in rapid succession, but now, they lacked power and follow through.
KC more than filled the void. Every advantage she’d cataloged since the start of the fight, she employed to gain a quick advantage.
One, two, three. Each hit met KC’s intended targets, and the other woman yelled in frustration.
Layla rotated her hip too far when she kicked, giving KC the exact opportunity she’d been waiting for. Using a heel-hook, KC swept the feet out from under the other woman. It was a perfectly executed takedown, and the other woman’s expression was priceless. A little bit of awe and a whole lotta panic.
The woman tried to turn over, but KC followed her down, pinning her head between her legs. Trying to escape was futile. KC had never lost a match with another when she had her thighs wrapped around her opponent’s head.
Layla tried to get her hand up to loosen KC’s legs, but KC just grabbed her hand hard. Locking her arm with a bit of a twist at the end put the last nail in the other fighter’s coffin.
Okay, maybe more than a bit, if the woman’s scream was any indicator. Her other hand hit the mat in rapid succession signaling KC’s first…official…win…as…a…Raper.
The noise in the stadium as she removed her self-imposed filter would have knocked her on her ass if she hadn’t already been prone.
It was like nothing she’d ever experienced.
What a rush.
The ref pulled KC off the other girl ‘cause apparently she didn’t move fast enough. She may have dallied a tad, but not a huge amount. The other girl coughed and wheezed as the doors to The Cage were opened. The Cage normally stayed in place for the victory lap, so the participants were protected while they fucked. KC just thought it was hot.
Layla’s trainers entered the ring to check on her, and she shook off their hands. She was pissed.
Hell. Yeah.
Which was gonna make KC’s reward even that much sweeter.
Then KC was lifted into the air. “You won. You won,” Boomer yelled in her ear as he twirled her around.
She laughed as she looked for Creed, more than a little panicked that he’d left. That he’d missed it.
But there he stood. On the other side of the bars.
Proud.
He was
Facing him, she gazed into his eyes and bit her lip. “Yes, Daddy.” Taking her mouth guard, she may have licked his thumb. Remove may and have .
Just as the metal lowered enough to cut off their contact, he growled. The sound was low enough only she could hear it over the roar of the crowd.
Stepping forward, she drug just a bit, giving everyone the impression she was tired.
That was actually correct. But she wasn’t physically exhausted. She was tired of holding back. Tired of trying to be something she wasn’t.
She was a Raper. One of the best they’d ever see. And the cocky redhead eyeing her from a couple feet away was about to meet her match.
Centering herself to only the other fighter, she blocked everything else out with laser-like precision as The Cage finished its descent, sealing them into the ring.
“Fighter ready?” the ref asked her.
She nodded.
“Fighter ready?” he asked Layla.
She snarled or some kind of approximation of an answer.
“And… fight !” The ref moved just far enough away to avoid Layla’s foot as it almost collided with his face.
The other woman was an aggressive fighter, which had served her well, but she left herself wide open for defensive measures and offensive tactics to gain the upper hand.
KC blocked the kick and slammed her fist into the woman’s upper thigh. The blow knocked her off balance, and she went down. Rolling with it, she ended up on the balls of her feet, charging KC again.
Punches came at her in rapid succession, but now, they lacked power and follow through.
KC more than filled the void. Every advantage she’d cataloged since the start of the fight, she employed to gain a quick advantage.
One, two, three. Each hit met KC’s intended targets, and the other woman yelled in frustration.
Layla rotated her hip too far when she kicked, giving KC the exact opportunity she’d been waiting for. Using a heel-hook, KC swept the feet out from under the other woman. It was a perfectly executed takedown, and the other woman’s expression was priceless. A little bit of awe and a whole lotta panic.
The woman tried to turn over, but KC followed her down, pinning her head between her legs. Trying to escape was futile. KC had never lost a match with another when she had her thighs wrapped around her opponent’s head.
Layla tried to get her hand up to loosen KC’s legs, but KC just grabbed her hand hard. Locking her arm with a bit of a twist at the end put the last nail in the other fighter’s coffin.
Okay, maybe more than a bit, if the woman’s scream was any indicator. Her other hand hit the mat in rapid succession signaling KC’s first…official…win…as…a…Raper.
The noise in the stadium as she removed her self-imposed filter would have knocked her on her ass if she hadn’t already been prone.
It was like nothing she’d ever experienced.
What a rush.
The ref pulled KC off the other girl ‘cause apparently she didn’t move fast enough. She may have dallied a tad, but not a huge amount. The other girl coughed and wheezed as the doors to The Cage were opened. The Cage normally stayed in place for the victory lap, so the participants were protected while they fucked. KC just thought it was hot.
Layla’s trainers entered the ring to check on her, and she shook off their hands. She was pissed.
Hell. Yeah.
Which was gonna make KC’s reward even that much sweeter.
Then KC was lifted into the air. “You won. You won,” Boomer yelled in her ear as he twirled her around.
She laughed as she looked for Creed, more than a little panicked that he’d left. That he’d missed it.
But there he stood. On the other side of the bars.
Proud.
He was
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