PILLAR PUNISHED
--------------------------
Sitting in the back of the bus, a blonde girl clad in black was huddled in her seat, almost buried beneath her long overcoat, skirt, and heavy boots. It was a transit position that Britta Lindt usually assumed when going to class or making her way home, but this bus was taking her somewhere else. Somewhere she wanted to go, even though she was terrified to put that secret part of her life on display.
“...Britta?” asked a voice, whose owner sat down next to her.
“Nnhm,” muttered Britta, her large eyes locked forward on the back of the seat in front of her.
“It’s Mika,” continued the Japanese girl, “we were in a literature class together last semester. Are you a…”
“Gonna fight,” replied Britta.
“Yeah, fight…” Mika’s voice trailed off for a moment.
“Didn’t…” the little blonde girl furrowed her brow for a moment. “Didn’t think anyone I knew would see.”
“You nervous?” asked Mika. “It’s the first time I signed up as a...wow, underground fighter. So strange to say it out loud.”
“Why you doing it?” asked Britta, quietly.
“Why? Wow, huh.” Mika looked down at her bag. “I want to be stronger. That’s all.” She looked at Britta and asked, “what about you?”
“I...like it,” she replied. “Only fought with a few people. Training classes. Extra lessons. I gotta...know what it’s like. A real fight.”
---
The bus arrived at its destination: a large and isolated mansion, surrounded by hills and forests. Specifically, it pulled in beneath the building, entering a short tunnel beneath the rocky cliff the mansion stood on top of. The occupants of the bus funneled out and were led into a backstage area rather quickly, during which Mika managed to lose track of Britta amidst the 20-or-so crowd of other fighters.
The Japanese girl decided to get changed before looking any further for her familiar face, unpacking her fight attire from her bag and heading into a changing stall. She emerged in a pink tank-top, draping down over a black pair of athletic shorts. Mika was of an average height and build for a young karateka, with silky and shoulder-length black hair.
With an announcement already blaring that called for the fighters to move to the ringside stand-by seating area, Mika almost walked past Britta without recognizing her, turning suddenly when she realized she had finally found her.
The petite blonde girl looked even smaller without her boots and overcoat, now barefoot and barely taller than five feet. Clad only in a black bandeau sports bra and matching briefs, Britta’s pale slim body bounced and weaved as she warmed up in a corner of the room. Her blonde hair came down just past her ears, but also fell over her eyes as she panted and shadowboxed.
“Britta!” called out Mika. “They want us at ringside.”
Britta looked at Mika with her doe-like eyes, and nodded.
Blinking for a moment, Mika continued, “Sorry, I’m just so used to your, erm...jacket.” With a shy smirk, she added, “that’s a lot of skin.”
Her cheeks flushing red, Britta looked at the floor and began to walk past Mika. “...’scomfortable.”
---
The evening’s event was laid out for the crowd of wealthy and social elite that made up the audience. Every fighter had two guaranteed matches, beginning with a random pairing. As an incentive, the winners’ second opponents would be crowd-selected from the losers pool. And at the whim of a select few upper echelon members of the audience, a handful of third round matches would finish the night with the entire roster open to their requested match-ups. All combatants would be paid, but winning garnered a healthy bonus.
“Your entertainment is paramount, of course,” said the ring announcer with a wide grin.
The ring itself was a circular mat on a raised marble pedestal, with two staircases leading up to its surface. The crowd was shrouded in darkness, as the arena lighting focused solely on the mat.
“And to our brave fighters, know that while you will face pain and conquest, here at The Pillar your lives will be treated as paramount, as well. Only the finest MediKade facilities await your tired bodies at each contest’s end.” The ring announcer turned and winked to part of the audience. “Perhaps, slightly broken bodies.”
The crowd’s laughter clearly amused some fighters, and unnerved others. Mika began to break her silence as she turned to Britta, but stopped as she heard the next announcement.
“And so, our first contest shall begin! Arachne Garcia...and Mika Yamase!”
---
Once she ascended the staircase, Mika saw her opponent waiting for her. A raven-haired goth girl in a dark, tattered tank-top and black boyshorts stood with her arms crossed, dark lipstick and eyeshadow accentuating her menacing glare. Mika quickly bowed to Arachne, and then the audience, while her opponent scoffed and simply adjusted her studded bracelets.
“Begin!”
Mika shifted from foot to foot, maintaining a practiced stance as she prepared for battle. Arachne simply walked towards her. Mika backed up instinctively, looking more confused as her opponent continued to walk forward with her arms at her sides. Arachne’s expression was stern, unimpressed, and coldly hostile. Mika’s discomfort pushed her to rashness, and she threw a kick towards Arachne’s head. The goth girl took the hit, turning with it and stumbling to one side. Mika flashed left and right kicks against her opponent’s midsection. Arachne finally retaliated with a right hook, but Mika swiftly performed side-splits to duck beneath the blow and slam her own palms into her opponent’s flanks. Confidently, the japanese girl rolled back and smoothly flipped onto her feet as Arachne staggered back with a grunt.
Exhaling excitedly as she bounced on her soles, Mika found herself looking forward to another exchange. Leading with another high kick, Mika prepared for either a block, or the potential of being thrown to the mat. Arachne caught the kick, and the japanese girl eagerly prepared to grapple. A sharp squeak then erupted from her throat as her eyes nearly bugged out, her brain finally registering the brutal and direct punch her opponent had delivered to her unprotected groin. Grabbing the stunned girl by the throat, Arachne then hurled her down onto the floor and stamped a foot down between her legs. Mika’s shrill howl brought a smirk to Arachne’s face as the goth girl ground a heel into her opponent’s groin.
Curled into a ball and rolling from side to side, Mika looked pitiful as Arachne walked a slow circle around her. “That was it?” taunted the goth fighter, before she began kicking Mika’s ribs and stomach. Once her opponent was a quivering heap at her feet, Arachne grabbed a handful of hair and forced the gasping young fighter to her knees. Then, Mika’s cries of pain resumed as her head and face was beaten with consecutive elbows and knees. Her arms soon fell limp at her sides as her body jiggled with each cracking blow.
Chants of “DOMINATE, DOMINATE,” came from the audience, once Arachne had paused to look down at her handiwork. Mika was bruised and beaten, her tearful eyes slightly rolled up in a constant expression of pain. Arachne slowly raised her hands, closing them together into a clenched double-fist over her head. Mika, somehow still upright on her knees, looked up at her opponent and gurgled at her. “Gleh!...g-guhl...geh...GUH-”
Arachne slammed her fists down into Mika’s skull with a loud crack. Mika’s eyes snapped open wide as they went blank. Her head twisted as her neck sank slightly into her collarbone, with a small spray of sweat and saliva bursting from it upon impact. Before her body could crumple, Mika was then struck by a powerful right hook that turned her torso around in place before she sprawled out on the mat. Arachne stepped forward to stamp a foot down several times into Mika’s heaving chest, finally stopping once the japanese girl’s tongue was hanging out of her bloodied mouth.
---
Even though she had watched plenty of it online, seeing somebody beaten in a pitfight in person shook Britta, doubly so when the loser was somebody she recognized from her regular life. She spent the next two matches staring at the floor to collect her thoughts and concentrate on the fact that she too was going to fight, mostly ignoring the action in the ring.
However, she could not look away when one fighter, Mercer Khan, had to have a match intervention. She was a muscular blonde woman in a jet black swimsuit, with a silver chain wrapped around her midriff. And she was busy squeezing the skull of her opponent, a thai boxer named Sanjay, hard enough to cause an audible crack.
“DOMINATE, DOMINATE,” chanted the crowd.
“If you crack that nut wide open, miss Khan,” began the ring announcer, with a warning tone and elevated volume, “we shall have to disqualify you in a manner most unbecoming.”
With a huff, Mercer threw her opponent’s head to one side, letting him finally crumple at her feet. She raised a fist and looked to the crowd, who showered her with enough approval to put her back into a good mood.
“Anything goes on The Pillar,” continued the ring announcer, playing to the crowd, “we simply draw the line at grey matter spattered on the canvas. All in good taste, of course.”
---
“Britta Lindt...and Bakeboro!”
The small blonde fighter quickly made her way up the steps, and stood on one side of the ring. Britta felt briefly overwhelmed, staring wide-eyed at the arena around her, processing the fact that her fantasy had become reality. Then, her large eyes fixed on her opponent, a large Hawaiian sumo wrestler in a simple mawashi loincloth. As he stamped a foot on the mat and assumed his stance, Britta exhaled loudly and crouched slightly, moving her feet on the canvas as she entered a fighting rhythm that mixed capoeira and savate.
“Begin!”
While her opponent was much larger than she was, Britta put her mind to her practice and her private lessons, trying to see Bakeboro as a target that could fight back. The blonde girl began to move in and out, evading the sumo wrestler’s attempts to grab her as she got used to his distance. She started throwing kicks, revealing a dance-fighting style as her feet smacked against Bakeboro’s ample stomach.
After a few exchanges, Britta scolded herself as she realized she was probably attacking the single worst target on a sumo wrestler. She backed up, trying to gauge his height, before stepping into a fairly telegraphed jump-kick towards her opponent’s head. Bakeboro punished her for the rookie mistake by grabbing her out of the air and throwing her to the mat. Stunned by the impact and trying to figure out what happened, Britta lay on the floor far too long and yelped as she saw her larger opponent throw his weight down onto her.
Splashing his stomach across the small blonde girl’s body, Bakeboro audibly crushed the wind out of her. Britta gasped for breath as the sumo wrestler got into a mount position, and raised a late defense after three open-palm strikes smacked her head back and forth. With the blonde fighter’s arms raised, Bakeboro began clubbing her guard with two fists until Britta’s forearms flopped to either side of her in exhaustion. She began to shriek as she saw what was coming next, before two fists then clubbed her face and bounced her head off the mat.
Her eyes half-closed and her mouth gaping loosely as she lay limp beneath the seated sumo wrestler, Britta rolled her head from side to side weakly as she heard the crowd begin to chant, “DOMINATE, DOMINATE,” pushing Bakeboro to punctuate his sudden steamrolling of the match. As the sumo wrestler stood up, Britta involuntarily gasped loudly for breath as her body was finally free of his weight. Her eyes fluttered as she felt her opponent’s arms reach down and around her bare midriff, and she punch-drunkenly tried to resist as she was suddenly lifted off the mat.
Britta’s eyes snapped open as her opponent’s arms suddenly squeezed the breath back out of her body. Now trapped in a showboating bearhug, the little blonde fighter kicked her legs wildly as her feet could not find purchase on the mat below. She pulled and clawed at Bakeboro’s arms and shoulders, almost immediately losing her strength as he crushed her against him with another mighty squeeze. Howling in pain and slapping her arms against the sumo wrestler in desperation, Britta shuddered as the next squeeze cracked two of her ribs. She began to moan, and then made a loud and defeated noise as something inside of her crunched. The small blonde fighter went limp in Bakeboro’s arms, bending backwards suddenly. She jiggled in a final spasm, a spurt of drool coming out of her gaping mouth, before Bakeboro opened his arms and let her flop back onto the mat in a splayed heap.
---
Awakening with a gasp, Britta sat up on the bench she had been laid out on after her recuperation in one of the venue’s MediKade pods. All of the losing fighters had been dumped into and out of the pods rather unceremoniously, treated more like cargo than guests. They were gathered in a separate waiting room from the winners, though both rooms were outfitted with benches and monitors of the event’s video feed.
“Britta, you’re back!” said Mika, quickly approaching her with a weak smile. “It...seems you were defeated as well.”
“It hurt…” muttered Britta, cupping a hand to her side.
The japanese girl offered her a plastic cup of water, which Britta cautiously accepted. “They are, erm...sorting out the second round matches,” she continued. “I-I suppose that the audience is deciding on what they would find most e...entertaining.”
The little blonde fighter nodded. “...’s a weird feeling.”
Mika took a sip of her own cup of water, rubbing her neck absently. “...yes.” After a long pause, she added, “m-maybe we will surprise them and take the second round!”
Britta’s response was a small “Mm,” finishing her water and then stretching to work out the sore kinks in her back.
---
There was a sudden burst of music, before the announcer’s voice blared throughout the arena. “Welcome...to the esteemed Second Round! You’ve all waited long enough, so let us get right down to business. Our first champion to compete shall be...Bakeboro!”
The video feed replayed Bakeboro’s victory over Britta, as he crushed her in a finishing bearhug. Mika inhaled sharply, glancing over to see Britta staring at the floor.
“And his opponent shall be...Tabby Marko!”
Inset in the video feed was a smaller replay of Tabby’s first round loss. Her ponytailed head was wrapped in the thick legs of Bianka Kiss, a dancer-turned-fighter who had locked lips with her opponent after she choked the girl out with her strong thighs. Tabby was already standing, staring at Bakeboro’s round-one bearhug, before quickly shuffling out of the room to head to the ring. She was easily the next-smallest competitor besides Britta, and her white tank top and shiny purple shorts billowed slightly as she moved.
---
Tabby unsurprisingly did not last long, though her loss came at the hands of multiple deafening open-palmed strikes, which violently shut down her brain. The final one left her eyes staring glassy and wide-open as her knees buckled. Then, her body flipped across the ring like a ragdoll as Bakeboro drove his entire weight into her with a massive body tackle. The crowd chanted “DOMINATE!” as he rolled his limp opponent over onto her back, before Bakeboro roared and leapt into the air. He slammed his own gut down onto Tabby’s chest with a muffled crunch, leaving her crushed form unconscious on the mat. She twitched softly and wheezed, eyes rolled back and several ribs broken.
While Tabby’s match certainly did not do her any favors, a handful of other fighters had managed to take back a win for themselves as the second round continued, some due to the audience’s decision being to see them get a second chance against a matched opponent, and two managing to eke out a win despite unfavorable odds.
---
“Our next champion is...Paula Dynamo!”
As the video replay showed her smashing fight out of her first-round judoka opponent, Paula Dynamo’s powerful bared arms and metal bracelets looked like lethal weapons. A red unitard matched the crimson droplets that spattered her fists.
“And her opponent shall be...Britta Lindt!”
Wincing as she once again saw a replay of her loss to Bakeboro in the first round, Britta stood up and began to leave.
“At least I can watch this time,” began Mika. “Have...a good fight!”
After an awkward pause, Britta responded with a nod, followed by a light pat on Mika’s shoulder, before quickly making her way to the ring.
Paula was already waiting for her, shadowboxing in the middle of the ring before turning to notice the smaller girl step onto the mat. She tossed back her brunette bob-cut hair and winked, kissing one of her fists before pointing it right at Britta. “Such a little shrimp,” taunted Paula, “I think I’ll take all your teeth before you hit the floor.”
“Begin!”
Gasping as she already saw a fist rushing towards her face, Britta rolled to one side and landed a light kick on her passing opponent’s flank. Paula whipped around with a backfist that blasted a spray of saliva and sweat out of Britta’s mouth. Spinning and tumbling across the mat, the small blonde fighter winced as a stinging wave washed across every nerve in her face. Hopping to her feet, Britta raised her arms to block another punch, crying out as her forearms were immediately tenderized by a flurry of successive impacts. Throwing them aside as she twisted her entire body, Britta’s right foot snapped up and landed a smacking blow across Paula’s cheek. The brunette boxer stumbled to one side, before her vision was blurred once again by another foot slapping across her face. Britta’s third kick ended poorly as a parrying fist cracked against her ankle. Paula slammed a body blow deep into her smaller opponent’s gut. As Britta doubled over, Paula knelt down before blasting her off of her feet with an uppercut.
Britta’s world briefly went white, before she found herself flopping face-first onto the canvas. Paula grabbed handfuls of Britta’s short hair to force her to stand back up, and began to lay into her like a small, meaty punching bag. Britta curled up on her feet to try and protect herself as punches battered her face and body wherever her arms and legs were unable to get in the way. For a moment, the assault paused, but when Britta opened her arms she was greeted with a short jab to the face. Falling onto her back, Britta kicked against the mat to push herself away from her looming opponent.
“Dentist time,” snarled Paula, cracking her knuckles before leaping into the air. Britta guarded her face, but quickly threw her arms open again as her opponent landed with a plunging fist straight into her gut. Britta made a long, low-pitched noise as her mouth opened wide, curling up off the mat before she flopped back and gasped for air. Paula knelt over her opponent, turning and flexing for the crowd as Britta immediately curled up again on the ground beneath her. The small blonde fighter gagged back a convulsion and kept her legs coiled as she writhed in pain, keeping her eyes up as she saw Paula turn back to pound her into the canvas.
Ready to beat the little blonde into a bloody paste, Paula’s head snapped back as she saw two feet rapidly rush towards her. Britta desperately bicycle-kicked from her defensive position, landing rapid-fire blows against her opponent’s face. Winding up her entire body, Britta sprang up from the mat, slamming her feet into Paula’s chest and knocking her onto her back. Landing on top of her stunned opponent, Britta pressed down on Paula’s shoulders while throwing knees into either side of her body. Finally clearing her cobwebs, Paula violently twisted to one side to free her arms, and then knocked Britta into the air with a wild haymaker.
Pushing herself off the mat, Paula began to get back up, baring her teeth as rage filled her mind. She barely noticed the sound of Britta’s feet pounding against the mat towards her until the sprinting blonde fighter was already airborne. Britta launched herself, spinning once before slamming a kick into Paula’s cheek. The brunette boxer’s face exploded in a mist of moisture, turning her around in place before she crumpled to her knees. Clutching her stomach, Britta fought through another wave of pain before hurling her entire body behind another kick that twisted Paula around once again. Paula’s eyes rolled back as she made a loud and slurred noise, finally slumping back-first onto the mat.
“DOMINATE, DOMINATE,” chanted the crowd, filling Britta’s ears as she staggered back to her feet with her eyes slightly widened. She looked down at her prone opponent, and quickly filled with adrenaline. Leaping into the air, Britta let out a shrill cry as she stamped both heels down into Paula’s body. The small blonde fighter began stamping her beaten opponent’s chest and midsection rapidly, before stomping Paula’s face and throwing her arms into the air triumphantly. Britta finally stepped off of her opponent, immediately falling to her hands and knees as she cradled her own stomach and once again fought to catch her breath.
---
Quickly pumping a fist in celebration, Mika grinned brightly as she saw Britta end her second match in victory. “Just wait for me,” she thought, “I’ll be there too...I’ll be triumphant too!” Idly wondering if Britta was now resting in some kind of winner’s lounge, Mika patiently waited her turn as another match proceeded.
Her interest piqued at the sight of her previous opponent, Arachne, in the ring once again. Mika was annoyed to see her own loss presented as an introduction for the raven-haired goth fighter, but that feeling quickly turned into pity as she watched Arachne quickly get dismantled by the powerful Mercer Khan. After slamming her opponent onto the mat for a third time, the muscular blonde woman raised one leg and dropped it onto Arachne’s throat. Flopping into a spreadeagled position, the goth girl gasped hoarsely, unable to do more than weakly kick one heel against the canvas. She made a weak, frustrated sound as Mercer Khan grabbed hold of her hair to force her up to her knees, and then cried out in agonized realization as the dominating fighter’s hands began squeezing together around her head. Arachne clawed at her opponent’s arms as her eyes grew wider and more glassy, her vision blurring and reddening as she heard a crackle behind her own ears.
Mercer Khan relaxed the hold as she saw her opponent’s arms fall slack, quietly aware that the announcer’s microphone had switched on to chastise her once again if it looked like a skull was about to break. The crowd’s chant of “DOMINATE, DOMINATE,” washed over her as she considered what to do to the kneeling goth girl that remained upright in her grasp. Arachne shuddered, flecks of spit falling from her gaping mouth as her brain remained in a painful, half-conscious shock. Smirking to herself, Mercer Khan moved behind her opponent and planted each of her heels down into the backs of Arachne’s knees. Keeping the goth girl’s legs pinned to the mat, Mercer Khan reached down to hug her arms around Arachne’s body, and began to pull up. Arachne began to moan as she unfortunately remained conscious, shaking her head desperately as her opponent forcefully stretched her torso. Mercer Khan bared her teeth in a grin as she continued to pull up, then roared in triumph as there was a sudden and audible crack. Arachne screamed as her spine popped internally, her midriff baring slightly beneath her tanktop as her midsection stretched half an inch beyond normal. With a harsh wrench, Mercer Khan then twisted Arachne’s upper body over 90 degrees to the right, visibly warping the bared skin of the beaten girl’s midsection as Arachne gave a final wet grunt. The goth fighter’s eyes rolled back as she blacked out, shortly followed by a fresh spurt of saliva running from her mouth. After a few seconds of holding her mangled prey in the brutal position, Mercer Khan twisted Arachne’s torso back into place with another unsettling series of cracks, before letting the demolished fighter crumple facedown onto the mat. Mercer Khan pressed a foot onto the back of Arachne’s head as the goth girl’s broken body shuddered unevenly.
---
“Our next champion is...Bianka Kiss!”
Once again, footage was played of the voluptuous hungarian dancer choking out her previous opponent with her thick thighs. With long dark hair flowing over her shoulders, Bianka wore matching pearlescent white briefs and a strapless top.
“And his opponent shall be...Mika Yamase!”
Putting effort into every slow exhale as she made her way to the ring, Mika glanced at the replay of her first round loss to remind herself that there was no room for mercy in these matches. She had to go in for the kill like a predator, even in the face of such a beautiful opponent. Seeing Bianka in the ring almost made Mika’s heart skip a beat, and she swallowed heavily as her opponent winked and blew her a kiss from a relaxed position on the other side of the mat..
“Begin!”
Locking eyes with her opponent, Mika immediately began to close in, going against her instincts as she faced down the hungarian dancer’s kickfighting stance. Mika led in with a kick, striking solidly against the bare skin of Bianka’s midsection before the leggy fighter returned with a similar kick of her own. The two combatants traded several kicks, each one grunting louder as they quickly began to feel the pain of their opening melee. While Mika began to grimace in pain, her opponent’s face was a mixture of hunger and pain, her eyes wincing as she grinned painfully. After another solid kick smashed into her, Mika cried out and staggered back, clutching her side as she fought to stay standing. Bianka panted and cupped her stomach, pacing left and right as she watched her opponent and waited for more.
Mustering up a battle cry, Mika ran in and grappled with Bianka, who responded with widened eyes and a breathy gasp. Mika quickly realized that Bianka was nearly a head taller than her, and had a great deal of difficulty executing the hip throw that had been her intention. Once she found her balance, Bianka shot a hard knee into Mika. The japanese girl began to try to cover her midsection, while Bianka suddenly leaned forward. Her right leg whipped up, slamming a foot into Mika’s forehead. The scorpion kick caused Mika to blurt out a noise as she went cross-eyed and stumbled in place. Bianka continued her forward motion, performing a handstand as she hooked one foot behind Mika’s neck, and slapped her over the head with the other. Mika was stunned and confused, feeling both of her opponent’s feet wrap around her neck. Bianka rolled to one side, flipping and tossing Mika onto the mat.
As she lifted her head from the canvas, Mika saw her opponent leaping into the air above her. Wide eyed and gaping, Mika was wholly unprepared as Bianka stamped two feet straight into her gut, forcing an awful retching noise out of the japanese girl as she flopped beneath her. Standing on her opponent’s stomach, Bianka leapt up again, this time landing knees-first on Mika’s body. Mika gagged, flopping again as the wind was smashed out of her. Bianka looked down at Mika, winking once as she stuck out her tongue playfully, before lifting a foot and slapping the japanese girl across the face with a bare sole.
Bianka turned as Mika reacted, rolling with her opponent and sliding her long legs around the japanese girl’s torso. Mika ended up facedown on the mat, but also trapped between Bianka’s thighs, which squeezed tightly around her stomach and lower ribs. Trying in vain to stand up, Mika instead began to whine with growing severity as her opponent’s legs grew tighter around her. Bianka remained seated on the mat, her palms solidly planted as she squeezed her thighs rhythmically, grinding Mika’s torso while the japanese girl began to kick her feet against the floor and try to wriggle herself loose. Pushing her posterior off the mat, Bianka flexed her legs as hard as she could. Mika screamed in pain as something in her midsection popped under the increasing pressure, her tongue hanging from her mouth as she briefly convulsed and coughed up some spittle.
Releasing the pressure, Bianka let Mika flop prone onto the mat, gasping for breath and barely conscious. The crowd began to chant, “DOMINATE, DOMINATE,” and Bianka licked her lower lip as she crawled over her opponent’s body. Mika felt soft skin sliding around her head and neck, sputtering a few noises as she blinked rapidly and tried to will herself back into the fight. Once her vision cleared, she found Bianka looking right back at her with a hungry expression.
Laying on the mat alongside her opponent, Bianka’s legs were wrapped tightly around Mika’s head and neck, their smooth skin growing more taut as she began to squeeze. She had turned Mika’s head to one side before locking in the hold, wanting to hold eye contact before finishing her foe. Mika’s body rolled from side to side, her hands beating and clawing at Bianka’s powerful legs as her feet kicked wildly in desperation. “Sorry, baby,” panted Bianka as she continued to tighten her legs, “I gotcha.”
Mika’s face grew a deeper and deeper red as she squealed, barely about to cry out as her cheeks were mashed into her mouth. Her muffled screams grew louder and higher in pitch as Bianka crushed her within the choking headscissor. Mika’s struggles began to shift into convulsions as gurgling sputters came from the foamy saliva that pushed its way out of her compressed mouth.
Slamming her palms onto the mat, Bianka arched her body and threw her head back as she gave one final squeeze with all her might, feeling a satisfying pop within the grasp of her thighs as Mika’s limp body spasmed once. Releasing the hold, Bianka breathed heavily, catching her breath as she sat and looked at her finished opponent. Crawling towards her, Bianka rolled Mika onto her back and climbed onto her, lifting the beaten girl’s head to deliver a deep kiss before raising her arms in victory. Mika was barely breathing, just croaking with the occasional twitch in her chest as her opponent posed atop her.
---
Inhaling sharply, Mika’s eyes snapped open and she flailed her limbs, still thinking she was in the match. Once she realized she was simply on the locker room floor, Mika sat in place and shook her head lightly. Touching her lips, she felt her cheeks flush, and quickly picked herself up.
Searching the locker room, Mika was confused as she could not find Britta. A few fighters were still present, mostly losers of the second round who were clearly groggy and disappointed. Then, Mika turned and saw Britta on a video screen.
“O-oh...”
---
“And now we present your next third round match-up, by special request...Britta Lindt!”
Raising her arms to a small cheer, Britta’s large eyes were wide and fixed upon her opponent. She thought of her victory, and tried not to think of anything else.
“And her opponent...Mercer Khan!”
The blonde amazon ran a hand along the chain around her waist, glaring down at the smaller Britta with a predatory gaze. She knew that a third round match was to be a true exhibition of her power, and was already considering what she would do to her prey.
Circling her unmoving opponent, Britta looked like a doe facing a lioness, inching forward tensely as she looked for an opening. Mercer Khan tilted her head from side to side, cracking her neck before raising her arms outwards to invite an attack. Shuffling slightly in place, Britta exploded into motion as she charged forward and leapt into a flying roundhouse kick that connected solidly with her opponent’s jaw. As soon as her feet landed on the mat, Britta threw four rapid side kicks against Mercer Khan’s torso. Her vision blurred with adrenaline, Britta only noticed that her opponent was still standing, and gave a shrill cry as she jumped and spun around, slamming another kick into the blonde amazon.
Cracking her neck again, Mercer Khan enjoyed the sight of realization filling her smaller opponent’s face. Britta’s vision cleared as she paused for breath and saw that Mercer Khan was not only still upright, but smirking. Just as the little fighter’s legs tensed up to retreat, Mercer Khan slammed her fists together with unbelievable speed on either side of Britta’s head. Her eyes rolling up slightly from the crushing impact that sandwiched her skull, Britta’s legs still tried to carry out their retreat, resulting in her tumbling backwards in a heap. Reaching down and picking up her opponent by the head, Mercer Khan considered crushing her on the spot, before changing her mind and lifting the smaller girl overhead. Britta helplessly struggled as her lighter body was raised up with little effort, grunting loudly as she was then thrown headfirst onto the floor, flopping out spreadeagled and stunned at her opponent’s feet.
Reaching down and gripping one hand tightly around Britta’s forehead, Mercer Khan raised the little fighter back up to her feet in a show of strength. She proceeded to wrap both of her arms around the blonde girl, pinning her arms in a dominating bearhug as she lifted her up to look her in the eyes. Britta struggled as best she could, until Mercer Khan slammed a debilitating headbutt into her forehead. Slowly and mercilessly, Britta took two more headbutts that were each punctuated by a meaty crack. Her head sagged back afterwards, as her eyes rolled out in slightly different directions and a trail of drool ran from her limp and open mouth.
Setting the blonde girl back down on the mat, Mercer Khan moved her arms one at a time, transitioning from a bearhug into a two-handed grip around her stunned opponent’s skull. Then, she began to squeeze. Britta’s limp arms jerked to life as light crackling noises began to fill her ears, shakily reaching up to claw at her opponent’s hands as they began to crush her head between them. She began shrieking primally in agony, barely conscious but forced to endure the torturous experience of Mercer Khan’s expert hands as they pressed and micro-fractured her skull as slowly and firmly as possible. Mercer Khan roared as she lifted Britta up, letting the little fighter’s arms and legs dangle and spasm as the blonde girl’s body went into a wild shock. Then, Mercer Khan lowered Britta back to the mat and forced her to her knees, looking into her opponent’s eyes as they stared back up at her glassily in a wide and tearful panic.
Finally letting off the pressure just as a trickle of blood began running from her opponent’s nose, Mercer Khan looked up and to either side as the crowd chanted, “DOMINATE! DOMINATE!” Looking back down, she considered Britta’s kneeling and convulsing form. The blonde fighter’s arms hung heavily at her sides as she was only kept upright by her opponent’s cranial grip. As she grunted with her irregular and shuddering breaths, Britta’s vision was a pure haze, and her ears could barely make out her opponent’s words.
“Well,” hummed Mercer Khan, “I can’t crush your skull. But I can crush…everything else.”
Mercer Khan moved her hands to grip each of Britta’s shoulders, before she simply began to press down. Still kneeling, Britta’s thighs and spine naturally resisted her opponent’s pressure. Mercer Khan continued pushing down, making sure to keep the pressure aimed just right to prevent her smaller opponent from simply folding back beneath her. Britta’s hips began to shiver as a creaking sensation ran up and down her spine, her knees pressed so hard into the mat that they began to bruise. The creaking grew into a crackling, and the crackling escalated into a popping and snapping. A hoarse wail came out of Britta’s throat as her opponent’s powerful arms flexed with effort, attempting to physically compress the smaller fighter down into the mat.
Finally, within Britta’s quivering and taut body, her spine cracked and snapped. And then, her entire body buckled and folded backwards at her waist, her shoulder blades now pinned down against the backs of her thighs. Britta’s mouth gaped wide open, and her eyes snapped open almost as much in turn, a small choked squeak coming out of her throat. Mercer Khan continued pressing down, now grinding and kneading her opponent’s back-broken body. Crunches and pops rapidly came out of Britta’s flesh as she was maimed, her own bare feet filling the corners of her rapidly darkening vision as they limply bounced above her face. Finally satisfied with the contorted and coiled mess that once was her opponent’s spine, Mercer Khan adjusted her feet to stand on the backs of Britta’s knees, and then yanked the broken girl’s torso up with a hideous crack. Britta’s body was violently straightened back out, a spatter of blood escaping her lips before Mercer Khan threw her facedown on the mat and stamped a foot into her mushy back, declaring her victory and utter dominance.
---
Standing by the side of the MediKade recuperation pod that contained Britta’s slowly-mending body, Mika was relieved to know that the small blonde fighter’s horrifically broken back was not a fatal injury, but it had come very close. It would take an overnight stay for Britta to even be able to walk, but The Pillar’s organizers always budgeted for such occurrences in the “bonus round”.
“See you again, I hope,” said Mika, turning to leave on the last bus for the night. She already felt changed in a way she could not put to words, and was surprised to find her main concern to be a chance to step on the mat against Britta herself someday.
--------------------------
Sitting in the back of the bus, a blonde girl clad in black was huddled in her seat, almost buried beneath her long overcoat, skirt, and heavy boots. It was a transit position that Britta Lindt usually assumed when going to class or making her way home, but this bus was taking her somewhere else. Somewhere she wanted to go, even though she was terrified to put that secret part of her life on display.
“...Britta?” asked a voice, whose owner sat down next to her.
“Nnhm,” muttered Britta, her large eyes locked forward on the back of the seat in front of her.
“It’s Mika,” continued the Japanese girl, “we were in a literature class together last semester. Are you a…”
“Gonna fight,” replied Britta.
“Yeah, fight…” Mika’s voice trailed off for a moment.
“Didn’t…” the little blonde girl furrowed her brow for a moment. “Didn’t think anyone I knew would see.”
“You nervous?” asked Mika. “It’s the first time I signed up as a...wow, underground fighter. So strange to say it out loud.”
“Why you doing it?” asked Britta, quietly.
“Why? Wow, huh.” Mika looked down at her bag. “I want to be stronger. That’s all.” She looked at Britta and asked, “what about you?”
“I...like it,” she replied. “Only fought with a few people. Training classes. Extra lessons. I gotta...know what it’s like. A real fight.”
---
The bus arrived at its destination: a large and isolated mansion, surrounded by hills and forests. Specifically, it pulled in beneath the building, entering a short tunnel beneath the rocky cliff the mansion stood on top of. The occupants of the bus funneled out and were led into a backstage area rather quickly, during which Mika managed to lose track of Britta amidst the 20-or-so crowd of other fighters.
The Japanese girl decided to get changed before looking any further for her familiar face, unpacking her fight attire from her bag and heading into a changing stall. She emerged in a pink tank-top, draping down over a black pair of athletic shorts. Mika was of an average height and build for a young karateka, with silky and shoulder-length black hair.
With an announcement already blaring that called for the fighters to move to the ringside stand-by seating area, Mika almost walked past Britta without recognizing her, turning suddenly when she realized she had finally found her.
The petite blonde girl looked even smaller without her boots and overcoat, now barefoot and barely taller than five feet. Clad only in a black bandeau sports bra and matching briefs, Britta’s pale slim body bounced and weaved as she warmed up in a corner of the room. Her blonde hair came down just past her ears, but also fell over her eyes as she panted and shadowboxed.
“Britta!” called out Mika. “They want us at ringside.”
Britta looked at Mika with her doe-like eyes, and nodded.
Blinking for a moment, Mika continued, “Sorry, I’m just so used to your, erm...jacket.” With a shy smirk, she added, “that’s a lot of skin.”
Her cheeks flushing red, Britta looked at the floor and began to walk past Mika. “...’scomfortable.”
---
The evening’s event was laid out for the crowd of wealthy and social elite that made up the audience. Every fighter had two guaranteed matches, beginning with a random pairing. As an incentive, the winners’ second opponents would be crowd-selected from the losers pool. And at the whim of a select few upper echelon members of the audience, a handful of third round matches would finish the night with the entire roster open to their requested match-ups. All combatants would be paid, but winning garnered a healthy bonus.
“Your entertainment is paramount, of course,” said the ring announcer with a wide grin.
The ring itself was a circular mat on a raised marble pedestal, with two staircases leading up to its surface. The crowd was shrouded in darkness, as the arena lighting focused solely on the mat.
“And to our brave fighters, know that while you will face pain and conquest, here at The Pillar your lives will be treated as paramount, as well. Only the finest MediKade facilities await your tired bodies at each contest’s end.” The ring announcer turned and winked to part of the audience. “Perhaps, slightly broken bodies.”
The crowd’s laughter clearly amused some fighters, and unnerved others. Mika began to break her silence as she turned to Britta, but stopped as she heard the next announcement.
“And so, our first contest shall begin! Arachne Garcia...and Mika Yamase!”
---
Once she ascended the staircase, Mika saw her opponent waiting for her. A raven-haired goth girl in a dark, tattered tank-top and black boyshorts stood with her arms crossed, dark lipstick and eyeshadow accentuating her menacing glare. Mika quickly bowed to Arachne, and then the audience, while her opponent scoffed and simply adjusted her studded bracelets.
“Begin!”
Mika shifted from foot to foot, maintaining a practiced stance as she prepared for battle. Arachne simply walked towards her. Mika backed up instinctively, looking more confused as her opponent continued to walk forward with her arms at her sides. Arachne’s expression was stern, unimpressed, and coldly hostile. Mika’s discomfort pushed her to rashness, and she threw a kick towards Arachne’s head. The goth girl took the hit, turning with it and stumbling to one side. Mika flashed left and right kicks against her opponent’s midsection. Arachne finally retaliated with a right hook, but Mika swiftly performed side-splits to duck beneath the blow and slam her own palms into her opponent’s flanks. Confidently, the japanese girl rolled back and smoothly flipped onto her feet as Arachne staggered back with a grunt.
Exhaling excitedly as she bounced on her soles, Mika found herself looking forward to another exchange. Leading with another high kick, Mika prepared for either a block, or the potential of being thrown to the mat. Arachne caught the kick, and the japanese girl eagerly prepared to grapple. A sharp squeak then erupted from her throat as her eyes nearly bugged out, her brain finally registering the brutal and direct punch her opponent had delivered to her unprotected groin. Grabbing the stunned girl by the throat, Arachne then hurled her down onto the floor and stamped a foot down between her legs. Mika’s shrill howl brought a smirk to Arachne’s face as the goth girl ground a heel into her opponent’s groin.
Curled into a ball and rolling from side to side, Mika looked pitiful as Arachne walked a slow circle around her. “That was it?” taunted the goth fighter, before she began kicking Mika’s ribs and stomach. Once her opponent was a quivering heap at her feet, Arachne grabbed a handful of hair and forced the gasping young fighter to her knees. Then, Mika’s cries of pain resumed as her head and face was beaten with consecutive elbows and knees. Her arms soon fell limp at her sides as her body jiggled with each cracking blow.
Chants of “DOMINATE, DOMINATE,” came from the audience, once Arachne had paused to look down at her handiwork. Mika was bruised and beaten, her tearful eyes slightly rolled up in a constant expression of pain. Arachne slowly raised her hands, closing them together into a clenched double-fist over her head. Mika, somehow still upright on her knees, looked up at her opponent and gurgled at her. “Gleh!...g-guhl...geh...GUH-”
Arachne slammed her fists down into Mika’s skull with a loud crack. Mika’s eyes snapped open wide as they went blank. Her head twisted as her neck sank slightly into her collarbone, with a small spray of sweat and saliva bursting from it upon impact. Before her body could crumple, Mika was then struck by a powerful right hook that turned her torso around in place before she sprawled out on the mat. Arachne stepped forward to stamp a foot down several times into Mika’s heaving chest, finally stopping once the japanese girl’s tongue was hanging out of her bloodied mouth.
---
Even though she had watched plenty of it online, seeing somebody beaten in a pitfight in person shook Britta, doubly so when the loser was somebody she recognized from her regular life. She spent the next two matches staring at the floor to collect her thoughts and concentrate on the fact that she too was going to fight, mostly ignoring the action in the ring.
However, she could not look away when one fighter, Mercer Khan, had to have a match intervention. She was a muscular blonde woman in a jet black swimsuit, with a silver chain wrapped around her midriff. And she was busy squeezing the skull of her opponent, a thai boxer named Sanjay, hard enough to cause an audible crack.
“DOMINATE, DOMINATE,” chanted the crowd.
“If you crack that nut wide open, miss Khan,” began the ring announcer, with a warning tone and elevated volume, “we shall have to disqualify you in a manner most unbecoming.”
With a huff, Mercer threw her opponent’s head to one side, letting him finally crumple at her feet. She raised a fist and looked to the crowd, who showered her with enough approval to put her back into a good mood.
“Anything goes on The Pillar,” continued the ring announcer, playing to the crowd, “we simply draw the line at grey matter spattered on the canvas. All in good taste, of course.”
---
“Britta Lindt...and Bakeboro!”
The small blonde fighter quickly made her way up the steps, and stood on one side of the ring. Britta felt briefly overwhelmed, staring wide-eyed at the arena around her, processing the fact that her fantasy had become reality. Then, her large eyes fixed on her opponent, a large Hawaiian sumo wrestler in a simple mawashi loincloth. As he stamped a foot on the mat and assumed his stance, Britta exhaled loudly and crouched slightly, moving her feet on the canvas as she entered a fighting rhythm that mixed capoeira and savate.
“Begin!”
While her opponent was much larger than she was, Britta put her mind to her practice and her private lessons, trying to see Bakeboro as a target that could fight back. The blonde girl began to move in and out, evading the sumo wrestler’s attempts to grab her as she got used to his distance. She started throwing kicks, revealing a dance-fighting style as her feet smacked against Bakeboro’s ample stomach.
After a few exchanges, Britta scolded herself as she realized she was probably attacking the single worst target on a sumo wrestler. She backed up, trying to gauge his height, before stepping into a fairly telegraphed jump-kick towards her opponent’s head. Bakeboro punished her for the rookie mistake by grabbing her out of the air and throwing her to the mat. Stunned by the impact and trying to figure out what happened, Britta lay on the floor far too long and yelped as she saw her larger opponent throw his weight down onto her.
Splashing his stomach across the small blonde girl’s body, Bakeboro audibly crushed the wind out of her. Britta gasped for breath as the sumo wrestler got into a mount position, and raised a late defense after three open-palm strikes smacked her head back and forth. With the blonde fighter’s arms raised, Bakeboro began clubbing her guard with two fists until Britta’s forearms flopped to either side of her in exhaustion. She began to shriek as she saw what was coming next, before two fists then clubbed her face and bounced her head off the mat.
Her eyes half-closed and her mouth gaping loosely as she lay limp beneath the seated sumo wrestler, Britta rolled her head from side to side weakly as she heard the crowd begin to chant, “DOMINATE, DOMINATE,” pushing Bakeboro to punctuate his sudden steamrolling of the match. As the sumo wrestler stood up, Britta involuntarily gasped loudly for breath as her body was finally free of his weight. Her eyes fluttered as she felt her opponent’s arms reach down and around her bare midriff, and she punch-drunkenly tried to resist as she was suddenly lifted off the mat.
Britta’s eyes snapped open as her opponent’s arms suddenly squeezed the breath back out of her body. Now trapped in a showboating bearhug, the little blonde fighter kicked her legs wildly as her feet could not find purchase on the mat below. She pulled and clawed at Bakeboro’s arms and shoulders, almost immediately losing her strength as he crushed her against him with another mighty squeeze. Howling in pain and slapping her arms against the sumo wrestler in desperation, Britta shuddered as the next squeeze cracked two of her ribs. She began to moan, and then made a loud and defeated noise as something inside of her crunched. The small blonde fighter went limp in Bakeboro’s arms, bending backwards suddenly. She jiggled in a final spasm, a spurt of drool coming out of her gaping mouth, before Bakeboro opened his arms and let her flop back onto the mat in a splayed heap.
---
Awakening with a gasp, Britta sat up on the bench she had been laid out on after her recuperation in one of the venue’s MediKade pods. All of the losing fighters had been dumped into and out of the pods rather unceremoniously, treated more like cargo than guests. They were gathered in a separate waiting room from the winners, though both rooms were outfitted with benches and monitors of the event’s video feed.
“Britta, you’re back!” said Mika, quickly approaching her with a weak smile. “It...seems you were defeated as well.”
“It hurt…” muttered Britta, cupping a hand to her side.
The japanese girl offered her a plastic cup of water, which Britta cautiously accepted. “They are, erm...sorting out the second round matches,” she continued. “I-I suppose that the audience is deciding on what they would find most e...entertaining.”
The little blonde fighter nodded. “...’s a weird feeling.”
Mika took a sip of her own cup of water, rubbing her neck absently. “...yes.” After a long pause, she added, “m-maybe we will surprise them and take the second round!”
Britta’s response was a small “Mm,” finishing her water and then stretching to work out the sore kinks in her back.
---
There was a sudden burst of music, before the announcer’s voice blared throughout the arena. “Welcome...to the esteemed Second Round! You’ve all waited long enough, so let us get right down to business. Our first champion to compete shall be...Bakeboro!”
The video feed replayed Bakeboro’s victory over Britta, as he crushed her in a finishing bearhug. Mika inhaled sharply, glancing over to see Britta staring at the floor.
“And his opponent shall be...Tabby Marko!”
Inset in the video feed was a smaller replay of Tabby’s first round loss. Her ponytailed head was wrapped in the thick legs of Bianka Kiss, a dancer-turned-fighter who had locked lips with her opponent after she choked the girl out with her strong thighs. Tabby was already standing, staring at Bakeboro’s round-one bearhug, before quickly shuffling out of the room to head to the ring. She was easily the next-smallest competitor besides Britta, and her white tank top and shiny purple shorts billowed slightly as she moved.
---
Tabby unsurprisingly did not last long, though her loss came at the hands of multiple deafening open-palmed strikes, which violently shut down her brain. The final one left her eyes staring glassy and wide-open as her knees buckled. Then, her body flipped across the ring like a ragdoll as Bakeboro drove his entire weight into her with a massive body tackle. The crowd chanted “DOMINATE!” as he rolled his limp opponent over onto her back, before Bakeboro roared and leapt into the air. He slammed his own gut down onto Tabby’s chest with a muffled crunch, leaving her crushed form unconscious on the mat. She twitched softly and wheezed, eyes rolled back and several ribs broken.
While Tabby’s match certainly did not do her any favors, a handful of other fighters had managed to take back a win for themselves as the second round continued, some due to the audience’s decision being to see them get a second chance against a matched opponent, and two managing to eke out a win despite unfavorable odds.
---
“Our next champion is...Paula Dynamo!”
As the video replay showed her smashing fight out of her first-round judoka opponent, Paula Dynamo’s powerful bared arms and metal bracelets looked like lethal weapons. A red unitard matched the crimson droplets that spattered her fists.
“And her opponent shall be...Britta Lindt!”
Wincing as she once again saw a replay of her loss to Bakeboro in the first round, Britta stood up and began to leave.
“At least I can watch this time,” began Mika. “Have...a good fight!”
After an awkward pause, Britta responded with a nod, followed by a light pat on Mika’s shoulder, before quickly making her way to the ring.
Paula was already waiting for her, shadowboxing in the middle of the ring before turning to notice the smaller girl step onto the mat. She tossed back her brunette bob-cut hair and winked, kissing one of her fists before pointing it right at Britta. “Such a little shrimp,” taunted Paula, “I think I’ll take all your teeth before you hit the floor.”
“Begin!”
Gasping as she already saw a fist rushing towards her face, Britta rolled to one side and landed a light kick on her passing opponent’s flank. Paula whipped around with a backfist that blasted a spray of saliva and sweat out of Britta’s mouth. Spinning and tumbling across the mat, the small blonde fighter winced as a stinging wave washed across every nerve in her face. Hopping to her feet, Britta raised her arms to block another punch, crying out as her forearms were immediately tenderized by a flurry of successive impacts. Throwing them aside as she twisted her entire body, Britta’s right foot snapped up and landed a smacking blow across Paula’s cheek. The brunette boxer stumbled to one side, before her vision was blurred once again by another foot slapping across her face. Britta’s third kick ended poorly as a parrying fist cracked against her ankle. Paula slammed a body blow deep into her smaller opponent’s gut. As Britta doubled over, Paula knelt down before blasting her off of her feet with an uppercut.
Britta’s world briefly went white, before she found herself flopping face-first onto the canvas. Paula grabbed handfuls of Britta’s short hair to force her to stand back up, and began to lay into her like a small, meaty punching bag. Britta curled up on her feet to try and protect herself as punches battered her face and body wherever her arms and legs were unable to get in the way. For a moment, the assault paused, but when Britta opened her arms she was greeted with a short jab to the face. Falling onto her back, Britta kicked against the mat to push herself away from her looming opponent.
“Dentist time,” snarled Paula, cracking her knuckles before leaping into the air. Britta guarded her face, but quickly threw her arms open again as her opponent landed with a plunging fist straight into her gut. Britta made a long, low-pitched noise as her mouth opened wide, curling up off the mat before she flopped back and gasped for air. Paula knelt over her opponent, turning and flexing for the crowd as Britta immediately curled up again on the ground beneath her. The small blonde fighter gagged back a convulsion and kept her legs coiled as she writhed in pain, keeping her eyes up as she saw Paula turn back to pound her into the canvas.
Ready to beat the little blonde into a bloody paste, Paula’s head snapped back as she saw two feet rapidly rush towards her. Britta desperately bicycle-kicked from her defensive position, landing rapid-fire blows against her opponent’s face. Winding up her entire body, Britta sprang up from the mat, slamming her feet into Paula’s chest and knocking her onto her back. Landing on top of her stunned opponent, Britta pressed down on Paula’s shoulders while throwing knees into either side of her body. Finally clearing her cobwebs, Paula violently twisted to one side to free her arms, and then knocked Britta into the air with a wild haymaker.
Pushing herself off the mat, Paula began to get back up, baring her teeth as rage filled her mind. She barely noticed the sound of Britta’s feet pounding against the mat towards her until the sprinting blonde fighter was already airborne. Britta launched herself, spinning once before slamming a kick into Paula’s cheek. The brunette boxer’s face exploded in a mist of moisture, turning her around in place before she crumpled to her knees. Clutching her stomach, Britta fought through another wave of pain before hurling her entire body behind another kick that twisted Paula around once again. Paula’s eyes rolled back as she made a loud and slurred noise, finally slumping back-first onto the mat.
“DOMINATE, DOMINATE,” chanted the crowd, filling Britta’s ears as she staggered back to her feet with her eyes slightly widened. She looked down at her prone opponent, and quickly filled with adrenaline. Leaping into the air, Britta let out a shrill cry as she stamped both heels down into Paula’s body. The small blonde fighter began stamping her beaten opponent’s chest and midsection rapidly, before stomping Paula’s face and throwing her arms into the air triumphantly. Britta finally stepped off of her opponent, immediately falling to her hands and knees as she cradled her own stomach and once again fought to catch her breath.
---
Quickly pumping a fist in celebration, Mika grinned brightly as she saw Britta end her second match in victory. “Just wait for me,” she thought, “I’ll be there too...I’ll be triumphant too!” Idly wondering if Britta was now resting in some kind of winner’s lounge, Mika patiently waited her turn as another match proceeded.
Her interest piqued at the sight of her previous opponent, Arachne, in the ring once again. Mika was annoyed to see her own loss presented as an introduction for the raven-haired goth fighter, but that feeling quickly turned into pity as she watched Arachne quickly get dismantled by the powerful Mercer Khan. After slamming her opponent onto the mat for a third time, the muscular blonde woman raised one leg and dropped it onto Arachne’s throat. Flopping into a spreadeagled position, the goth girl gasped hoarsely, unable to do more than weakly kick one heel against the canvas. She made a weak, frustrated sound as Mercer Khan grabbed hold of her hair to force her up to her knees, and then cried out in agonized realization as the dominating fighter’s hands began squeezing together around her head. Arachne clawed at her opponent’s arms as her eyes grew wider and more glassy, her vision blurring and reddening as she heard a crackle behind her own ears.
Mercer Khan relaxed the hold as she saw her opponent’s arms fall slack, quietly aware that the announcer’s microphone had switched on to chastise her once again if it looked like a skull was about to break. The crowd’s chant of “DOMINATE, DOMINATE,” washed over her as she considered what to do to the kneeling goth girl that remained upright in her grasp. Arachne shuddered, flecks of spit falling from her gaping mouth as her brain remained in a painful, half-conscious shock. Smirking to herself, Mercer Khan moved behind her opponent and planted each of her heels down into the backs of Arachne’s knees. Keeping the goth girl’s legs pinned to the mat, Mercer Khan reached down to hug her arms around Arachne’s body, and began to pull up. Arachne began to moan as she unfortunately remained conscious, shaking her head desperately as her opponent forcefully stretched her torso. Mercer Khan bared her teeth in a grin as she continued to pull up, then roared in triumph as there was a sudden and audible crack. Arachne screamed as her spine popped internally, her midriff baring slightly beneath her tanktop as her midsection stretched half an inch beyond normal. With a harsh wrench, Mercer Khan then twisted Arachne’s upper body over 90 degrees to the right, visibly warping the bared skin of the beaten girl’s midsection as Arachne gave a final wet grunt. The goth fighter’s eyes rolled back as she blacked out, shortly followed by a fresh spurt of saliva running from her mouth. After a few seconds of holding her mangled prey in the brutal position, Mercer Khan twisted Arachne’s torso back into place with another unsettling series of cracks, before letting the demolished fighter crumple facedown onto the mat. Mercer Khan pressed a foot onto the back of Arachne’s head as the goth girl’s broken body shuddered unevenly.
---
“Our next champion is...Bianka Kiss!”
Once again, footage was played of the voluptuous hungarian dancer choking out her previous opponent with her thick thighs. With long dark hair flowing over her shoulders, Bianka wore matching pearlescent white briefs and a strapless top.
“And his opponent shall be...Mika Yamase!”
Putting effort into every slow exhale as she made her way to the ring, Mika glanced at the replay of her first round loss to remind herself that there was no room for mercy in these matches. She had to go in for the kill like a predator, even in the face of such a beautiful opponent. Seeing Bianka in the ring almost made Mika’s heart skip a beat, and she swallowed heavily as her opponent winked and blew her a kiss from a relaxed position on the other side of the mat..
“Begin!”
Locking eyes with her opponent, Mika immediately began to close in, going against her instincts as she faced down the hungarian dancer’s kickfighting stance. Mika led in with a kick, striking solidly against the bare skin of Bianka’s midsection before the leggy fighter returned with a similar kick of her own. The two combatants traded several kicks, each one grunting louder as they quickly began to feel the pain of their opening melee. While Mika began to grimace in pain, her opponent’s face was a mixture of hunger and pain, her eyes wincing as she grinned painfully. After another solid kick smashed into her, Mika cried out and staggered back, clutching her side as she fought to stay standing. Bianka panted and cupped her stomach, pacing left and right as she watched her opponent and waited for more.
Mustering up a battle cry, Mika ran in and grappled with Bianka, who responded with widened eyes and a breathy gasp. Mika quickly realized that Bianka was nearly a head taller than her, and had a great deal of difficulty executing the hip throw that had been her intention. Once she found her balance, Bianka shot a hard knee into Mika. The japanese girl began to try to cover her midsection, while Bianka suddenly leaned forward. Her right leg whipped up, slamming a foot into Mika’s forehead. The scorpion kick caused Mika to blurt out a noise as she went cross-eyed and stumbled in place. Bianka continued her forward motion, performing a handstand as she hooked one foot behind Mika’s neck, and slapped her over the head with the other. Mika was stunned and confused, feeling both of her opponent’s feet wrap around her neck. Bianka rolled to one side, flipping and tossing Mika onto the mat.
As she lifted her head from the canvas, Mika saw her opponent leaping into the air above her. Wide eyed and gaping, Mika was wholly unprepared as Bianka stamped two feet straight into her gut, forcing an awful retching noise out of the japanese girl as she flopped beneath her. Standing on her opponent’s stomach, Bianka leapt up again, this time landing knees-first on Mika’s body. Mika gagged, flopping again as the wind was smashed out of her. Bianka looked down at Mika, winking once as she stuck out her tongue playfully, before lifting a foot and slapping the japanese girl across the face with a bare sole.
Bianka turned as Mika reacted, rolling with her opponent and sliding her long legs around the japanese girl’s torso. Mika ended up facedown on the mat, but also trapped between Bianka’s thighs, which squeezed tightly around her stomach and lower ribs. Trying in vain to stand up, Mika instead began to whine with growing severity as her opponent’s legs grew tighter around her. Bianka remained seated on the mat, her palms solidly planted as she squeezed her thighs rhythmically, grinding Mika’s torso while the japanese girl began to kick her feet against the floor and try to wriggle herself loose. Pushing her posterior off the mat, Bianka flexed her legs as hard as she could. Mika screamed in pain as something in her midsection popped under the increasing pressure, her tongue hanging from her mouth as she briefly convulsed and coughed up some spittle.
Releasing the pressure, Bianka let Mika flop prone onto the mat, gasping for breath and barely conscious. The crowd began to chant, “DOMINATE, DOMINATE,” and Bianka licked her lower lip as she crawled over her opponent’s body. Mika felt soft skin sliding around her head and neck, sputtering a few noises as she blinked rapidly and tried to will herself back into the fight. Once her vision cleared, she found Bianka looking right back at her with a hungry expression.
Laying on the mat alongside her opponent, Bianka’s legs were wrapped tightly around Mika’s head and neck, their smooth skin growing more taut as she began to squeeze. She had turned Mika’s head to one side before locking in the hold, wanting to hold eye contact before finishing her foe. Mika’s body rolled from side to side, her hands beating and clawing at Bianka’s powerful legs as her feet kicked wildly in desperation. “Sorry, baby,” panted Bianka as she continued to tighten her legs, “I gotcha.”
Mika’s face grew a deeper and deeper red as she squealed, barely about to cry out as her cheeks were mashed into her mouth. Her muffled screams grew louder and higher in pitch as Bianka crushed her within the choking headscissor. Mika’s struggles began to shift into convulsions as gurgling sputters came from the foamy saliva that pushed its way out of her compressed mouth.
Slamming her palms onto the mat, Bianka arched her body and threw her head back as she gave one final squeeze with all her might, feeling a satisfying pop within the grasp of her thighs as Mika’s limp body spasmed once. Releasing the hold, Bianka breathed heavily, catching her breath as she sat and looked at her finished opponent. Crawling towards her, Bianka rolled Mika onto her back and climbed onto her, lifting the beaten girl’s head to deliver a deep kiss before raising her arms in victory. Mika was barely breathing, just croaking with the occasional twitch in her chest as her opponent posed atop her.
---
Inhaling sharply, Mika’s eyes snapped open and she flailed her limbs, still thinking she was in the match. Once she realized she was simply on the locker room floor, Mika sat in place and shook her head lightly. Touching her lips, she felt her cheeks flush, and quickly picked herself up.
Searching the locker room, Mika was confused as she could not find Britta. A few fighters were still present, mostly losers of the second round who were clearly groggy and disappointed. Then, Mika turned and saw Britta on a video screen.
“O-oh...”
---
“And now we present your next third round match-up, by special request...Britta Lindt!”
Raising her arms to a small cheer, Britta’s large eyes were wide and fixed upon her opponent. She thought of her victory, and tried not to think of anything else.
“And her opponent...Mercer Khan!”
The blonde amazon ran a hand along the chain around her waist, glaring down at the smaller Britta with a predatory gaze. She knew that a third round match was to be a true exhibition of her power, and was already considering what she would do to her prey.
Circling her unmoving opponent, Britta looked like a doe facing a lioness, inching forward tensely as she looked for an opening. Mercer Khan tilted her head from side to side, cracking her neck before raising her arms outwards to invite an attack. Shuffling slightly in place, Britta exploded into motion as she charged forward and leapt into a flying roundhouse kick that connected solidly with her opponent’s jaw. As soon as her feet landed on the mat, Britta threw four rapid side kicks against Mercer Khan’s torso. Her vision blurred with adrenaline, Britta only noticed that her opponent was still standing, and gave a shrill cry as she jumped and spun around, slamming another kick into the blonde amazon.
Cracking her neck again, Mercer Khan enjoyed the sight of realization filling her smaller opponent’s face. Britta’s vision cleared as she paused for breath and saw that Mercer Khan was not only still upright, but smirking. Just as the little fighter’s legs tensed up to retreat, Mercer Khan slammed her fists together with unbelievable speed on either side of Britta’s head. Her eyes rolling up slightly from the crushing impact that sandwiched her skull, Britta’s legs still tried to carry out their retreat, resulting in her tumbling backwards in a heap. Reaching down and picking up her opponent by the head, Mercer Khan considered crushing her on the spot, before changing her mind and lifting the smaller girl overhead. Britta helplessly struggled as her lighter body was raised up with little effort, grunting loudly as she was then thrown headfirst onto the floor, flopping out spreadeagled and stunned at her opponent’s feet.
Reaching down and gripping one hand tightly around Britta’s forehead, Mercer Khan raised the little fighter back up to her feet in a show of strength. She proceeded to wrap both of her arms around the blonde girl, pinning her arms in a dominating bearhug as she lifted her up to look her in the eyes. Britta struggled as best she could, until Mercer Khan slammed a debilitating headbutt into her forehead. Slowly and mercilessly, Britta took two more headbutts that were each punctuated by a meaty crack. Her head sagged back afterwards, as her eyes rolled out in slightly different directions and a trail of drool ran from her limp and open mouth.
Setting the blonde girl back down on the mat, Mercer Khan moved her arms one at a time, transitioning from a bearhug into a two-handed grip around her stunned opponent’s skull. Then, she began to squeeze. Britta’s limp arms jerked to life as light crackling noises began to fill her ears, shakily reaching up to claw at her opponent’s hands as they began to crush her head between them. She began shrieking primally in agony, barely conscious but forced to endure the torturous experience of Mercer Khan’s expert hands as they pressed and micro-fractured her skull as slowly and firmly as possible. Mercer Khan roared as she lifted Britta up, letting the little fighter’s arms and legs dangle and spasm as the blonde girl’s body went into a wild shock. Then, Mercer Khan lowered Britta back to the mat and forced her to her knees, looking into her opponent’s eyes as they stared back up at her glassily in a wide and tearful panic.
Finally letting off the pressure just as a trickle of blood began running from her opponent’s nose, Mercer Khan looked up and to either side as the crowd chanted, “DOMINATE! DOMINATE!” Looking back down, she considered Britta’s kneeling and convulsing form. The blonde fighter’s arms hung heavily at her sides as she was only kept upright by her opponent’s cranial grip. As she grunted with her irregular and shuddering breaths, Britta’s vision was a pure haze, and her ears could barely make out her opponent’s words.
“Well,” hummed Mercer Khan, “I can’t crush your skull. But I can crush…everything else.”
Mercer Khan moved her hands to grip each of Britta’s shoulders, before she simply began to press down. Still kneeling, Britta’s thighs and spine naturally resisted her opponent’s pressure. Mercer Khan continued pushing down, making sure to keep the pressure aimed just right to prevent her smaller opponent from simply folding back beneath her. Britta’s hips began to shiver as a creaking sensation ran up and down her spine, her knees pressed so hard into the mat that they began to bruise. The creaking grew into a crackling, and the crackling escalated into a popping and snapping. A hoarse wail came out of Britta’s throat as her opponent’s powerful arms flexed with effort, attempting to physically compress the smaller fighter down into the mat.
Finally, within Britta’s quivering and taut body, her spine cracked and snapped. And then, her entire body buckled and folded backwards at her waist, her shoulder blades now pinned down against the backs of her thighs. Britta’s mouth gaped wide open, and her eyes snapped open almost as much in turn, a small choked squeak coming out of her throat. Mercer Khan continued pressing down, now grinding and kneading her opponent’s back-broken body. Crunches and pops rapidly came out of Britta’s flesh as she was maimed, her own bare feet filling the corners of her rapidly darkening vision as they limply bounced above her face. Finally satisfied with the contorted and coiled mess that once was her opponent’s spine, Mercer Khan adjusted her feet to stand on the backs of Britta’s knees, and then yanked the broken girl’s torso up with a hideous crack. Britta’s body was violently straightened back out, a spatter of blood escaping her lips before Mercer Khan threw her facedown on the mat and stamped a foot into her mushy back, declaring her victory and utter dominance.
---
Standing by the side of the MediKade recuperation pod that contained Britta’s slowly-mending body, Mika was relieved to know that the small blonde fighter’s horrifically broken back was not a fatal injury, but it had come very close. It would take an overnight stay for Britta to even be able to walk, but The Pillar’s organizers always budgeted for such occurrences in the “bonus round”.
“See you again, I hope,” said Mika, turning to leave on the last bus for the night. She already felt changed in a way she could not put to words, and was surprised to find her main concern to be a chance to step on the mat against Britta herself someday.
