The Prize
By Klunker100(@yahoo.com)
Part II



(A comfortable, after-hours old-boys weekend activity is upended by the 
arrival of a couple of mysterious – and beautiful – strangers. Contains 
violence, graphic sex, lesbianism, and coarse language.)


	Two weeks later, things were back to normal. It was Nicole's turn 
to be a ring girl. She scanned the arena for any sign of Lisa. Nobody 
home. In his office, Manny sweated out the possibility of another evening 
like the last. Word got out and the last two fight nights saw a few, and 
then several, women in the audience. He hoped things would reverse 
themselves (the women didn't spend as much money as the men) and was 
relieved when it was all over. It wasn't until the next fight that there 
was anything to be concerned about. In walked Lisa – with two women.

	"This is my buddy, Erin, and her corner, Ginger. I'm taking the 
night off but she wants to fight!"

	Manny slumped back in his chair. He knew he couldn't refuse...the 
cat was out of the bag, the horse was out of the barn, or however you 
want to describe it, it was out of his hands now. And his bodyguard – a 
pain in his jaw suddenly appearing as soon as he saw Lisa – didn't argue, 
either. "Okay," he said, meekly. "What's your specialty?"

	"Thai kickboxing," said the woman. She was a blonde in her mid-40s, 
a little taller than Lisa, more slender, but had more defined muscles 
than her friend. "And I'm ready to go."

	Turning to the other woman, who wasn't nearly as tall or muscular 
but still quite fit, Manny said, "And I suppose you want to fight, 
too...?"

	The third woman said, "No, I'm not good enough – yet. I'm just here 
with Erin. But I'm real glad to meet you!" The perky brunette naively 
extended her hand to the harried promoter who just shot her 'the look'.

	Once again, Manny gave the ring announcer a sign and stepped in to 
make the announcement, resigned that this would become a common 
occurrence.

	"Gentlemen," he began, with a hint of dejection. "Once again we 
have a special treat. Going up against 'Roundhouse' in a kick-boxing 
match is a newcomer, let's welcome..."

	"Just call me 'Irish'," said Erin as she stepped in the ring.

	"...the 'Irish Terror'..."

	Erin gave Manny an angry stare at the altered nickname. She took up 
self-defense back in her homeland because she had to in order to survive, 
but having lost too many friends to the conflict she took no joy in it. 
She settled in her corner, followed by Ginger, who carried her gym bag.

	Local favorite Doug 'Roundhouse' Sammons had won many fights with 
the foreign technique against locals who lacked his skill and background, 
and would have been concerned going up against any opponent similarly 
trained. Seeing one of his friends being soundly beaten by a woman – and 
squaring off opposite one – increased his apprehension. He studied his 
challenger as her assistant competently laced up her gloves. A poor boy, 
he used off-the-shelf gloves and wore whatever gym apparel he could find. 
His competition, on the other hand, had expensive gloves and was attired 
in an expensive matching off-white leotard set, trimmed in maroon. 
Although loose-fitting, he could see her panty line and with little 
effort deduced that she was wearing no bra...she didn't need one.

'Roundhouse' felt stupid, checking her out like some horny 
schoolboy when his job was to beat her up or risk having his own hide 
tanned by an obviously trained fighter...female or not. He was all 
mentally prepared until the instant before the bell: immediately after 
removing her fighter's robe, the 'Irish Terror' raised her hands, stared 
right into the eyes of her opponent, and Ginger quickly slipped off her 
leotard top, being careful not to muss the woman's carefully teased 'do. 
'Roundhouse' was stunned at the blonde's muscularity...not an ounce of 
fat on her and bulging muscles as far as the eye could see. She was flat-
chested, but her bustline measurement was large, thanks to the bulky pecs 
and surrounding muscles that hid her womanly assets.

The bell rang, snapping 'Roundhouse' back into reality. Erin used 
the advantage of her surprise to move quickly into him, launching her 
right foot into his left side. He successfully jerked his body to 
decrease the impact, catching a glimpse of her long, shapely leg as he 
thought, 'I'd rather be fucking this bitch than fighting her'; but duty 
called. On his way back to the upright position he landed a hard right to 
Erin's chin, stunning her. He quickly spun around and caught her with his 
specialty round-kick, sending the 'Irish Terror' to flying to the ropes. 
Smelling victory, he went after her and caught her with a left hook. Erin 
quickly fell to the floor, dazed and bleeding.

'Roundhouse' walked to his corner while the ref gave Erin an 8-
count. She was able to pull herself up before he counted her out. 
Weakened and staggering, she covered her chest with her elbows, trying to 
defend herself against whatever blows he may use next. Doug was 
disappointed, having enjoyed looking at the topless woman. He fired off 
another round kick but missed – she ducked. He used his opposite leg for 
his next kick, which made contact with her hip. Once again, Erin went 
down. She was knocked off her feet but her torso upright. Confident that 
he was on his way to beating this woman, 'Roundhouse' walked over to 
finish her off. The helpless look on her face caused him to let his guard 
down. That was his first mistake.

The 'Irish Terror' immediately lowered her back, planted her left 
leg and arm on mat and wound up a haymaker with her right leg, hitting 
Doug in the solar plexus. He stopped dead in his tracks, having had the 
wind knocked out of him. Erin slid in closer, made a scissors with her 
legs, then kicked both of them to take 'Roundhouse's' legs out from under 
him. Once on the mat, Erin staggered to get up and punched him right in 
the nose with her right hand. Now it was his turn to bleed. The pain was 
nothing new, so he was able to work through the agony and return the 
favor, drawing more blood from her left eye. Erin was used to the pain, 
too, and let loose with a volley of punches that finally prevailed.

Once again, the crowd gasped in disbelief. The ref had to help her 
up to her feet as he, also in disbelief, pronounced the 'Irish Terror' 
the winner of the fight. Ginger stepped into the ring, gently placed her 
robe on the victorious woman, and led her out of the arena. From her 
customary perch near the exit, it was Donna's turn to be the 'prize 
bitch'. She had contemplated this contingency after her friend's 
adventure of four weeks earlier but still wasn't sure she was ready for 
it. She was quicker getting to her room than her friend had been.

Donna arrived just as Ginger was helping Erin through the door. The 
warrior was hunched over, limping, bleeding, and groaning in pain. 
Donna's thoughts were turning away from having sex with this woman and 
redirected at helping her recover from the beating from which she had 
emerged victorious. It was a grand moment of womanhood in which she 
wanted to share.

The two women placed Erin deftly on the bed. Donna had ice packs 
and heating pads standing by for just such an occasion, and they worked 
on equally well on women as they did on men. Tending to her wounds as 
they sat on each side of the bed, Donna and Ginger saw that they were not 
as bad as they first seemed. And a bottle of Southern Comfort quickly 
took the edge off her aches...it put her to sleep. This gave Donna the 
opportunity to check out the woman she was expected to service. She was 
amazed that a 45-year-old female could take beating like this and still 
emerge victorious. Like friend Nicole, she was in awe of the gladiatrix's 
muscles, looking at them as she rubbed them...partly to soothe them and 
partly because they turned her on.

Ginger explained that Erin was an all-Europe bodybuilding and 
martial arts champ. It was her way out of the mayhem of Northern Ireland; 
she had always been something of a tomboy, and she and her peers and 
protagonists found out how naturally strong she was when called upon to 
defend herself in a few unpleasant situations. They met in Germany 
several years ago while Ginger was thumbing her way across the continent 
with a youth hostel group. It was a perfect arrangement...Erin would do 
the weightlifting and the fighting while Ginger handled the books and the 
bookings. Some of it had apparently rubbed off on her, because although 
no match for the men back in the arena, the young brunette was well-
muscled and had her share of fighting scars. Feeling somewhat inadequate 
in the presence of these two muscular women, Donna took solace and pride 
in the fact that her 39-inch bustline was the biggest in the room, as she 
occasionally glanced over at the rack beneath Ginger's T-shirt.

Born in Wisconsin, Ginger's wanderlust and rebellion took her to 
many parts of the globe and exposed her to things many Americans never 
experience. Sensing Donna's apprehension yet curiosity about making love 
to this woman, Ginger offered, "Folks in Europe see things differently. I 
know from experience that Americans see sex in one way, but there's a lot 
of world out there that isn't the USA. It took me a while to learn 
that...living on the continent would have been hell if I didn't." A tacit 
message reluctantly received. Now Donna wondered if she was going to come 
between what were obviously two lovers.

The 'Irish Terror' woke up with the words, "Oh, shit. Did anybody 
get the license number of that truck?" The women laughed. Ginger asked 
the fighter how she was feeling, to which she replied, "How would you 
feel if you had just been kicked by a mule with green teeth and greasy 
hair?!?!" She sat up and took stock of her surroundings. The heat, ice, 
and whiskey had done their job. Ginger stood up and announced that she 
would go to Manny's office and settle up the accounts then wait out in 
the car. It was on.

Donna awkwardly stared at the woman, who was still topless and in 
her fancy leotards (and her hair was only slightly disturbed). The 'prize 
bitch' started to feel self-conscious in her revealing yet flattering, 
bright green Spandex 2-piece bathing suit as she sat on the bed. She 
didn't know what to say. Erin took the lead.

"So," Erin said, in the most delightful brogue Donna had ever 
heard, "I guess Ginge gave you my life's story, eh?"

"Well," Donna stammered. "She did tell me a few things about you."

Erin laughed. "Duly impressed, then?"

"As a matter of fact, I am. To tell you the truth, I thought it was 
kind of a fluke when Lisa beat that guy last month, but when you won 
tonight..." She didn't know how to end the thought or the sentence.

"Another fluke? Not really. Let me tell ya -- I've beaten the 
stuffins out of men before, and they were lots tougher than some of the 
jokers I've seen here. A girl has to be ready for anythin' in today's 
world, dontcha think?"

"Yes, I guess so..."

"I really want to thank ya for packin' my innards back in. I know 
I'm sure as 'ell gonna feel it tomorrow! But whatever that was that you 
poured down my gullet helped!"

"Shit, folks down here drink that stuff like water. If you REALLY 
want a whomp, try some of that stuff they bring down from the mountains!"

Erin forced a laugh. "Tell me what else comes out of them 
mountains, dear."

Donna knew the time was coming. "Well...I guess they're like 
anybody else...we've got our good and our bad..."

Erin placed her hand on Donna's thigh. "Did you come from them thar 
hills?"

"Yes, I'm from a little town about two hours from here. Little burg 
that overlooks a valley...it's really beautiful...you should see it 
sometime."

"Then you're a long way from home...just like me. Tell me, 
dear...what do they do up there in those lonely hills to pass the 
time...?

"What do you do to pass the time in your home?" Donna was growing 
more nervous by the second.

"I'll show ya," was the simple reply. She sat up behind Donna, who 
was visibly beginning to tremble, and wrapped her muscular arms and hands 
around Donna's. "Don't be nervous, dear. This isn't torture, ya know." 
She began gently kissing Donna's shoulders and neck. The auburn-haired 
beauty began to relax and breathe deeply.

"This is a beautiful bathin' suit ya have on, sweetheart," said 
Erin. "Right color, too!"

"It's my 'lucky bikini'," cooed Donna.

"Lucky, ya say...?"

"Yes...the men like it...they say it flatters my figure...well, 
that's what I say. They say it makes my tits look bigger."

As she slid her hand down her 'prize's' cleavage, Erin whispered in 
Donna's ear, "I think they're right. I wish I had a set like yours. I 
will have yours." Donna heaved her chest to accommodate the woman, and 
began to breathe deeper. As she squeezed her hand between the bikini top 
and breast while fondling Donna's nipple, Erin rested her muscular arm on 
the young woman's chest. Donna grabbed it and drew it closer as she 
leaned her head back next to Erin's. The Irishwoman moved her free arm 
down Donna's stomach and began rubbing her crotch from the outside of the 
bathing suit. Donna writhed to give her a better position. Erin continued 
to gently kiss her 'bitch's' neck and shoulders.

Donna grabbed the shoulder straps of her top and pulled them down, 
as Erin continued to cup her breasts and rub her nipples, which were 
growing erect. A minute later she pulled the front of her top down and 
off her breasts. Erin drew herself closer, pressing her own erect nipples 
into Donna's back. Although flat-chested, Donna felt that Erin was still 
quite the sensuous woman...and one who appreciated the breasts of 
another.

Staring at Donna's exposed boobs, Erin exclaimed, "My lands! Those 
are absolutely beautiful! I want to know what they feel like!" Our 
accommodating Donna spun around, pushed Erin's shoulders to the bed, 
straddled her, leaned over, and gently rubbed her dangling tits on the 
warrior's heavily muscled chest. Erin heaved and began to moan as she 
muttered, "So this is what turns men on so much!"

Erin began to quietly pant and flex her arms. Donna hadn't bothered 
to turn down the lights, so she got the full show. It impressed her to 
see a woman beat a man after protracted combat, and it turned her on even 
more to see these muscles, obviously the result of many years hard work. 
She gently caressed Erin's biceps as they continued to rub their chests 
together.

Donna sat up and told her charge to turn over, whereupon she 
quickly returned to leaning over and rubbing her large breasts on the 
fighter's muscular back. Donna slid her hands along the sheet to cup 
Erin's nipples, rolling them between her thumb and forefinger. Then she 
began to kiss her neck and shoulders, as hers had been kissed. Erin said, 
passionately, "Oh, darlin'...take me!"

Donna dropped what she was doing, jumped back, and jerked Erin's 
leotard down several inches. She was amazed to see what a shapely ass 
this woman – almost 20 years her senior – possessed. Donna placed her 
hands under Erin's hips and lifted her backside off the sheet, exposing 
her cunt. Donna stuck out her tongue as far as it would go and jammed it 
in. Erin jerked and let out a note as soon as she felt the penetration, 
digging her face further into the pillow as she began to climax. Donna 
deftly spread the muscular cheeks of Erin's ass farther and farther apart 
as she dove deeper in.

Erin shook the bed as she reached orgasm, then fell limp. Donna 
fell on her back and began caressing her muscles anew. Erin said, "Hey, 
darlin'...lemme return the favor!"

Donna arose and pulled off her bathing suit bottom as well as 
finishing removing her bra top. Erin sat on the side of the bed, reached 
between Donnas' legs, and hoisted the 5'-7" girl off the floor with a 
start. Erin stood up, forcing Donna – whose spread-apart legs were 
supported by Erin's strong hands placed underneath her thighs and ass -- 
to try and balance herself in this awkward position. She wrapped her arms 
around the nearest object, which was Erin's head (making sure, of course, 
not to mess up that pretty blonde hair-do, which, by now, was beginning 
to get bent out of shape). Erin drew Donna's crotch to her face and began 
to eat her 'bitch' out. Donna held on harder and harder as the 
Irishwoman's tongue did its thing.

After climax, both women found themselves limp on the bed. Donna 
smiled and said, "Viva the Irish."

Erin replied, "Damn straight, bitch!" 

Donna rolled over, wrapping one of her legs around one of Erin's, 
propped her head up with one hand and caressed the 'Terror's' broad chest 
with the other. Sweetly, she asked, "Erin, could you tell me why you..."

Erin already knew what was coming. "...why I fight topless?" 
Chuckling, she replied, "Because wearing any kind of a top is binding and 
I need that unrestricted movement. And besides, at my age, what have I 
got to hide? When a girl gets to be my age, dearie, she doesn't mind all 
the attention she can get!" Both women began laughing. Erin rolled over 
on top of her 'prize' and began kissing her again. Donna was all too 
anxious to return the favor...she was anxious to press against those 
terrific muscles one more time. Erin was equally anxious to feel those 
large bosoms against her one more time.