“Aaaaaand in this corner, wearing the yellow suit and weighing 118 pounds, Deeeeeebbbiiii!”
The roar of approval from the crowd reverberated off the walls of the gymnasium that had so recently been converted for the purpose of hosting this match. I waved to them from my corner, I felt radiant, confident, and may be just a little cocky. I’d been wrestling for the Underground Wrestling Leaque for six months now, and had finally hit my stride, demolishing my last string of hapless opponents.
I wasn’t always so successful. When I was first recruited out of a Strip Club in Rhode Island by a Japanese businessman, I was not prepared to deal with the dark world of wrestling that existed under the thin crust of Japanese civilization. The fighting was hard, dirty, and brutal as I found out to my dismay on several occasions. But since then, I trained hard with the help of a friend or two I made in the League, and I got better and started winning my matches. Now I was one of the favorite “new” girls making her rounds on the circuit.
I flipped my long, brown hair and let it hang down freely. I defied anyone to use it against me in a match. Nothing made me angrier than that, and I refused to cut it or tie it up just so some bitch wouldn’t be able to get at it. I didn’t even look over to my opponent, Mimi, as I smoothed down the spandex of my tight yellow one-piece with laces that stretched tautly over my American-size breasts and hugged my full hips. I knew it would be an insult to her to not even acknowledge her presence. Fine, let her stew.
I had however, checked her out before the match. She was Japanese, and a fast and flexible fighter. She played the cute angle, wearing her hair in a short bob and always doing cute things in front of the camera for her fans. She was fit, and had a good body for a Japanese girl, although I sometimes wondered if her breasts were implants, which I heard were becoming popular in Japan.
The bell rang and I finally looked up. Mimi was dressed in a blue and green one-piece suit with matching wrestling boots. She stood in the ring with her hands on her hips, and smiled at me before stretching out her arms and raising them above her head in challenge. I crossed to the center of the ring and reached up to grasp her hands in mine as we started to engage in a test of strength.
Mimi was strong, and her fingers dug painfully into the back of my hands as we struggled for dominance. We used our sharp nails to try and gouge each other as much as we used our strength to try to twist each other to the mat. We spread our legs for leverage, and groaned as we moved in a tight circle, seeking each other’s weakness.
But Mimi was tiring, and I managed to get one of her wrists and twist it upside down until she collapsed to the mat, writhing in pain but refusing to give up. I kicked her in the stomach and grabbed her legs as she fell backwards, rasping.
Rolling her over, I tried to the quick win by putting her in a Boston Crab. Mimi howled and pounded the mat as a I cruelly bent her legs backwards and racked her back with pain. As I might have mentioned before in my diary, I was discovering I had a dark side, that I enjoyed putting the hurt on other girls, and that I got excited doing so. Even now I could feel my nipples perk up as the cute as a button girl beneath me squirmed and thrashed.
Mimi’s legs proved stronger than her arms, and she managed to kick out, pitching me forward and sending me sliding a short distance across the rough canvas of the ring. But I knew I had hurt her. Taking my time, I rose to my feet and turned to see a crying Mimi crawling for the edge of the apron.
Dashing towards her, I drop-kicked her in the back and quickly wrapped my legs around her neck in a figure-four headlock. Mimi cried out and clutched at my full thighs. My legs were tightly wound around her throat like a phython, and I was slowly crushing her cute little head between my legs. My nipples ached as they pressed tightly against the spandex covering my chest, and Mimi’s head was rubbing against my crotch where I was worried I would be getting wet soon.
Hot tears streamed down her cheeks as her yelping gave way to small pitiful moans. She simply didn’t have the upper body strength to break my hold, no matter how she clawed at my thighs. Having suitably weakened her, I unwound my legs and put my feet against her shoulders. With a huge shove, a sent her sliding across the ring as I got up and strode once again towards my prey.
Mimi grasped at the ropes above her, and a managed to haul herself up one rope at a time until she stood to face me. She didn’t look that cute anymore, her mascara running down her beet-red face, so I was surprised when she launched her counter-attack.
Yelling and hurling herself at me, she bared her sharp nails and flailed at me with fury, slashing and rending. Her claws caught the top of my suit, and tore the laces which caused my breasts to spill from their perch. I fought back, scratching and clawing at her face, upper arms and finally doing some of my own ripping at her chest. We weren’t really hurting each other, but we were both out to humiliate the other now. I ripped her top town and noted that her full breasts did not sag. Definitely Implants.
The fury of her attack drove me back against the ropes. My yellow wrestling costume was in shreds and hanging down around my waist. I tore away at Mimi’s top until the fabric came away in my hands. Now we battled semi-nude, stripped down until just our bottoms remained. Mimi brought her fist back and I was worried that she was going to start a catfight by punching my boobs, which was definitely against the rules of the “day” fights, but was allowed in the penthouse battles that occurred at night after the matches. My breasts are my most sensitive region, and I definitely didn’t want them to become targets. I tried to cover up my tits with my arms, and in doing so let myself be exposed to her actual attack.
She buried her hot little fist deep into my gut, and I nearly doubled over from the nausea and pain. She hit me again and my knees gave out, sprawling me to the canvas. As I tried to rise, her boot landed solidly into my kidney, knocking me over and out of the ring. I hit the ground hard, landing awkwardly on my wrist which rewarded me with a fresh bout of stabbing pain up my arm.
Mimi jumped down beside me and started to stomp her boot into my mid-section, working over the sensitive area. I doubled into a ball, trying to avoid the attacks as the ref started counting the seconds we were outside of the ring. She was furious! Transformed into some kind of shrieking banshee, she grabbed my hair and banged my head against the edge of the ring until I was dazed and unable to fight back. My wrist hurt, and I couldn’t seem to recover enough to counter her moves. Helpless as a rag doll, this little Asian girl started to beat the shit out of me, punching me in the kidneys and hauling me into a surfboard against the ring. My breasts flopped onto the canvas and my ribs were crushed against the hard edge of the ring as she wrenched on my arms and buried her foot into my back.
But Mimi had triggered some primal fear. I was in pure “flight” mode now as this ferocious Japanese woman towered above me, mauling my chest. The pain was incredible, like icy fire that radiated form her fingertips deep into the soft and vulnerable tissue of my breasts.
Mimi, the cute little Asian bitch, continued to stomp her boot into my back, crushing my tits and ribs against the outside edge of the canvas ring. I was hurting. She held me in place by my arms in a modified surfboard. Sweat glistened off our bodies, rendered topless by our earlier attacks against each other’s chests. I was in trouble, but even as I screamed out from the pain, my professional instincts began to kick in.
Willing myself to ignore the searing pain in my back, I kicked back hard with my boot, catching Mimi in the crotch. She squealed and fell back clutching her crotch as the referee shouting a warning for illegal tactics. I spun and grabbed Mimi by her short hair, tossing her back into the ring to continue our fight.
Mimi was still gasping and rolling around the mat in pain when I strode up to her. I grabbed her arm and jumped, landing in a sitting position with Mimi’s arm wrenched tightly between my legs as I pulled and bent her wrist. She was kicking at the mat now, trying to break the arm-bar. “Does it hurt, sweetie?” I shouted as she cried.
Relaxing my legs a little, I picked up my boot and kicked her in the stomach while still holding on to her arm. She gasped as the air was knocked out of her and I kicked her again. Mimi started to try to roll up into a little ball, but I wrenched on her arm again to straighten her out, and then kicked her in the stomach once more.
This time, as she curled up, she flipped her legs over my head and catching it in a brutal scissor-hold. Damn that Japanese bitch was flexible! I had to leg go as she flipped me over with her legs, my head jammed between her flexing calves as she locked her ankles for leverage. I couldn’t help letting a little moan escape, and Mimi smiled at me cruelly when she heard me. At that moment I decided I didn’t much like this girl at all.
Mimi reached down to grab my hair, which really made me mad. She hauled up on it, yanking my head deep within her thighs, my nose pressed up against her crotch. I could smell her sweet musk mingled with sweat, and I cried as she clamped her thighs tightly, pulsing them with her muscles to send waves of pain into my skull and down my spine.
My cries were muffled by her spandexed muff, but Mimi could feel me sobbing against her crotch. She smiled again and crushed her thighs together. My mouth fell open in searing agony as she poured on the pressure. My arms scratched at clawed at her iron legs, trying to find some purchase against the slippery limbs to ease the pressure. I couldn’t get a hold of any part of her, so instead, I pushed my head deeper into her crotch until I could finally give her a good bite you know where.
Mimi yelped, her legs flying open as she clutched her injured womanhood once again. The ref shot me a stern look, but I just shrugged as he wagged his finger at me. I knew that he wouldn’t disqualify me quite yet. You could push the rules a little bit and nobody seemed to care too much. The late night “private” fights though, could be downright brutal, and I already looked forward to the night I got Mimi into a private match. I hated her fake “cute” attitude, not to mention her fake tits. They looked like balloons on her tiny frame. My real ones, on the other hand, fit just right on my American body. Later, in our private match, we would put our breasts to the test.
But right now I was enjoying seeing the little wench writhe on the mat. Mimi looked down at her crotch, as if expecting to find blood, and looked relieved when she didn’t find any. Raising her gaze, she glared directly at me and spat something out in Japanese. I wasn’t quite ready for her to make such a quick recovery, which explains why she was able to charge me and dropkick me square in my bare boobs.
I fell hard. The canvas boomed as hit the mat, and Mimi was on me like lightning. She locked me up into a figure-four, twisting my legs like a pretzel. I screamed, I pounded the match, and I desperately tried to break free. But Mimi was good, and she deflected everything I tried to do to counter her hold on my burning legs. Now Mimi was starting to pay me back for that dirty fighting I did earlier. Since her boot was pressed firmly against my crotch, she started to saw her boot back and forth, digging the laces into my pussy and rubbing them hard against my lips until they started to burn.
I screamed, and she dug the laces in harder. The ref had no idea what was going on, since it looked like a valid hold even as she secretly punished my pussy. I tasted salt, and realized that hot tears had started rolling down my cheeks. That whore was ruining my make-up! I tried to sit up to relieve the pressure, and Mimi responded by wrenching on my legs and scraping the laces of her boot even harder against my muffin. I pounded the mat and tried to get the ref’s attention; she just ignored me. I think she was fed up with my earlier “bending” of the rules.
Mimi let out a cute giggle and waved to the crowd as I thrashed about. The crowd burst into applause as she began to blow kisses. Kisses! She was as fake as her tits! I vowed to make her pay.
Suddenly, she let me go and rose to parade around the ring for her fans. I couldn’t stand, so I started to crawl back to my corner. Mimi ran up and kicked me over, the tip of her boot connecting to my ribs. I feel onto my back, and she stomped me in the stomach. She was about to do it again when I caught her boot and twisted it.
Mimi fell off-balance and I jumped on her. I pummeled her back and sides with my fists and tore at her hair. I was mad! I kneed her in the kidneys and then yanked on her legs as she grabbed the ropes. Mimi hung suspended over the mat as I let go, sending her crashing into the canvas. Set let go of the ropes, groaning, and I grabbed her legs again and dragged her to the center of the ring. Her naked breasts scraped along for the ride as Mimi screamed from the burning sensation in her nipples.
I bodyslammed her, picked her up and gave her a suplex. Mimi was groggy, on all fours, and vulnerable. I grabbed her by the top of her hair and dragged her to her knees. Suddenly her arms wrapped around me in a bearhug. Too late, I hugged her back, but she had the better position.
Crying from the pain, hot tears dripping down our cheeks, we tried to crush the fight from each other. Our naked breasts slipped back and forth across each other’s chests as we wrestled for dominance. Neither of us seemed willing to give it up, no matter how our chests ached or how much air we forced from each other’s lips.
I was desperate, almost blacked out from the lack of oxygen. I swung my head forward, and felt my forehead connect solidly with Mimi’s. She gasped, and I felt her grip slacken slightly. I pounded her again, and then renewed my own grip. Mimi’s hands flew to her head, grasping her bleeding forhead. I tugged hard and Mimi yelped and then screamed as the pain shot through her back and chest. Her face was turning blue, and I kept it up. She tried to pry at my arms, weakly, her strength fading. She grabbed my hair and pulled my head back, but I held on with everything I had until she finally collapsed, dangling from my arms like a rag doll.
I counted to ten, and then released my arms. Mimi slid, unconscious, to the mat below. I could barely hear the crowd chanting my name as I staggered to a standing position, the ref hoisting my arm aloft in victory. I had won this match, but Mimi was sure to be out for blood. Our next fight was to be a topless catfight, and I knew Mimi would hold nothing back in the no-rules environment of the after-hours clubs. I vowed to be ready for her.
Categories: Debbi's Diary