It was a small mercy for which Barsamian was grateful.
***
Stepping through the thick curtain that partitioned the club's changing area from the main venue, Marvin "Jumpy Marv" Grier immediately made his presence known, the pimp's imposing linebacker-sized frame cloaked in a money-green, sequined and fur-lined coat that hung loosely from his shoulders - dragging a few inches on the floor - topped by an equally ridiculous but matching stovepipe hat. He was excitedly shifting from one side of the walkway to the other, yelling at the top of his lungs, "What have we here, what have we here! Fight night in the club to-night! It's gonna be fast, it's gonna be mean, it's gonna be keen, because that's what Jumpy Marv always brings!"
As Jumpy Marv bounced back and forth, amplifying the crowd's energy, it was apparent he was holding a leash in his hands, wrapped around one of his meaty fists while the other tugged on leather every few steps, keeping it taut. The club's clients watched intently, heads craning towards the thick curtain partition, where the leash led back. As its length played out behind Jumpy Marv, a second person emerged: slightly taller than the average girl, with olive skin laced by a light sheen of sweat and almond eyes smoldering with focused intensity, Yvette shadow-boxed her way forward. She was wearing a mockery of boxer's trunks, hugging her body tight enough to slightly squeeze the flesh underneath outwards, while her top consisted of a pair of strategically placed pasties in the shape of yin-yang symbols. And of course a thick leather collar to which the leash was attached.
Her silky black hair was pulled back into a no-nonsense ponytail that ended at her shoulders, accentuating the soft features of her face. That was where the softness ended, however. Legs bracing and arms extending as she warmed up, the audience members took note of her well-toned muscles, developed over months of training, and her naturally round, supple breasts, earned at the genetic lottery. Officially, she called herself Hawaiian, but that was just American short-hand for "fourteen different flavors of Asian." She owed her size and strength to Polynesian ancestry, her innocent appearance to her Japanese heritage and her toughness to her All-American upbringing on Big Island, working the strip clubs frequented by Hawaii's contingent of sailors and Marines.
Several men reached out to touch her, groping her exposed thighs and breasts whenever they could be reached with a casual stretch of the arm. Neither Yvette nor Jumpy Marv paid any attention to them, taking their sweet time getting to the ring's steps. Jumpy Marv raised a triumphant fist in the air, "We're gonna see someone get down and someone lay down here in this ring! It's gonna be a thing of beastly beauty, of savage serenity! Kids, do not try this shit at home!"
He let go of the leash with one hand, picking up a mouth guard from the small bottle where it was soaking for softness, and grabbing Yvette's chin with the leash wrapped hand, "Now bitch, open up and say 'ah'."
Yvette opened wide, her eyes still sporting their severe regard, as Jumpy Marv set the mouthpiece in place. Her jaw clamped shut unexpectedly, nearly taking one of his fingers in the process and Jumpy Marv instantly backhanded her, "Bitch! Don't you ever snap your teeth on me again," he pointed to the elevated fighting platform, "Get in that ring and show Daddy some love."
A shift in music and lighting signaled the entrance of the other half the event. Compared to Jumpy Marv, Miss Barbiedoll was positively sedate in her entrance, hat cocked over one eye, her sparkling white and purple coat unbuttoned, and showing off a pair of shapely legs as she sashayed towards the ring. Her hand was lifted casually and held up near her neck, lazily plucking a leash over her shoulder. Connected to the leash was a girl in a baggy baby blue robe, with downcast eyes, hood over her head and gloved fists held in front of her face. The crowd went quiet as the two came down the stairs, a slight dissatisfied murmur drifting throughout the mass of watchers. Gradually, it became a mild boo, with a few choice words at her modest entrance and so the hooded girl stopped, cocking back her fist to swing at one man in particular.
But Miss Barbiedoll cruelly wrenched her away with a deceptively powerful yank of the leash, causing the hooded girl to yelp and return to her submissive posture until they reached the stairs. Once there, Miss Barbiedoll stood with hand on one hip as she reached forward and unzipped the unflattering sweatshirt, running a finger up the girl's midriff before pulling back her hood. She was a splendid beauty, with unblemished porcelain skin, sapphire blue eyes and shoulder length platinum blonde hair pulled into a pair of French braids; the picture of Nordic perfection. The girl shed the robe without further prompting, revealing a tight white miniskirt barely long enough to cover the juicy curve of her ass and a matching white bikini top with the words FUCK and SLUT written in gold letters on either patch covering her breasts, the material visibly sagging under the weight of such hefty mounds.
Miss Barbiedoll motioned in a circle, her finger pointed down and the girl complied, slowly turning in place for the audience to get their fill. Miss Barbiedoll smirked and kicked her cane, spinning it around her hand theatrically and hooking the microphone towards her face, "As always, Miss Barbiedoll is proud to present the most prime cut of street meat to be found anywhere in our fine city. Now introducing the sensual... sexual... and oh-so-delectable, Miss Ulyana!"
The crowd suddenly brooked several lewd and suggestive comments, as the Slavic girl slowly rose to her full height, well over six feet tall, and her rippling muscles became clearly defined in the glare of the lights. She maintained a neutral expression, scanning the club's membership for a few seconds before turning on her heels and stepping into the ring where a very unimpressed looking Yvette was leaning back on her corner post, arms lain over the ropes. Ulyana started straight at the smaller Asian, snarling and smashing her fists together twice, then cranked her head to the side then the other, audibly cracking her neck. The crowd could feel the tension between the two fighters and began quietly placing bets amongst themselves.
Jumpy Marv and Miss Barbiedoll stared daggers at each other as the club's owner slowly waddled his way up the stairs and gingerly ducked under the ropes. They didn't stop staring even as both simultaneously turned and took their ring-side seats. Barsamian, every fat inch of him quivering under the light, nervously raised his hand to Yvette, "Are you ready?" She nodded quickly. He then turned to Ulyana, "Are you ready?" The tall blonde only smashed her fists together again and took a fighting stance.
"Alright girlies, fight's on! Fight's on!" He then hobbled out of the ring, fleeing the combat arena before any more damage could be done to his person.
The crowd clapped in a muted, classy fashion to mark the start of the match and both girls came out of their corners aggressively, seeking the dominant position of center ring and looking to post their opponent in the corner for a vicious pummeling. But when neither would reconsider it became a game of chicken, played with fists encased in open finger mixed martial arts gloves, and such a contest favored the much taller Ulyana. She scored with a quick pair of jabs that put Yvette off balance, allowing her to setup a vicious right cross that rocked Yvette and sent her a couple steps back. There was a small gasp of approval from the audience but Ulyana was too wary to immediately follow-up, suspecting that anything too easy would be a ruse to sucker her within Yvette's range, so she played the long game, circling around Yvette's weak side. Yvette, for her part, had recovered quickly and danced sideways to check Ulyana's movement, but this was at a cost of placing herself closer to the corner of the ring.
With nowhere for her opponent to go but back into the corner, Ulyana launched a flurry of strikes, back-to-back jab, cross, hook combinations bouncing off Yvette's upraised arms, followed up by a shin kick to Yvette's lead leg. Fortunately, she'd pulled the weight off the leg just in time to check the strike, but was caught with a solid body-punch that knocked the air out of her legs. In desperation, she dropped to one knee and went for a takedown, from well beyond the range of her half-leaping single leg, which the blonde easily stepped out of and gave a foot to the face in exchange. Spectators murmured as the sharp sound of well-struck blow washed over them.
Slightly dazed, Yvette rolled until she touched the ropes and used them to pull herself upright, Ulyana failing to follow-through on her fortune by landing additional blows. It was the sort of opportunity a more experienced - or ruthless - fighter would have seized upon and Yvette knew it, which gave her some measure of comfort. Rising to her feet, Yvette decided to pull one of her secret weapons out, one of the tricks that had made her Silk Room Fighting Champion for six months running. She swapped the position of her feet, her right taking lead, and shifted her body weight appropriately, adopting a southpaw stance and driving aggressively on Ulyana's weak side. Most fighters had trouble finding southpaws to train against and Yvette had jealously guarded her off-branded handedness for just such an occasion.
Ulyana, for her part, was simply too inexperienced to realize the threat to her was real. She reasoned it was nothing more than a parlor trick to throw her off her game and get her to give up an opening. With a long ranging jab, she weakly hit Yvette's face, expecting it to be enough to hold her at bay. But Yvette walked right through the punch and, as Ulyana's fist lingered too long before returning to the guard position, she drove home a four hit combination over and around the blonde's defenses, the last of which rocked her head to one side, French braids whipping through the air and sent her back to onto the ropes.
What Yvette lacked in size, strength and reach on the taller Slavic girl, she more than made up for it with pure killer instinct. Moving faster than greased lightning, the olive-skinned Asian closed the distance and whaled on Ulyana with a wild series of haymakers, battering her face with power punch after power punch, pummeling her like a piece of meat being tenderized. With her top falling off as she rubbed against the ropes, Ulyana desperately tried to cover up (her face that is), but Yvette simply yanked her hand away and continued pounding, even as the girl went down on one knee, the white miniskirt being hiked up by thighs spread wide and revealing her lack of underwear.
Without preamble, Miss Barbiedoll shot up from her ringside seat, "Bitch, if you don't get your ass up and hit back, there will be consequences and repercussions involved!"
Jumpy Marv simply guffawed and slapped his knee, rolling from side to side in his seat with excitement, "Go girl, go! Show the class how you beat that ass! Hit 'em again and then again!"
Ulyana was taking one hell of a beating at Yvette's hands, but, fortunately for her, the shorter girl didn't have an unlimited gas tank and quickly wore out from the furious rain of undisciplined blows, allowing her to finally tie up her attacker's hands up and lock together in a body-to-body clinch, throwing her to the mat. Yvette quickly rolled over, but not quick enough to prevent the much heavier girl from landing atop her, one leg trapped beneath the weight of her opponent and both wrists controlled as well. Ulyana didn't hesitate this time and made a solid fist, raising it high before bringing it crashing down on Yvette's face, over and over again, her skull producing a dull thud as it bounced off the mat with each successful strike.
The tables had been decisively turned and now it was Miss Barbiedoll's turn to celebrate, preferring a much more dignified smirk and pulling out a Chinese hand-fan to indolently cool her face. Meanwhile Jumpy Marv had pulled his hat off and was chewing at the edge, watching his favorite girl - his bottom bitch - receive a solid thumping. The crowd's clapping, while staying dignified, rose in intensity; what would have been a dull roar of bloodlust at any other venue was eclipsed by the sound of the hammer fists slamming into Yvette's skull and reverberating throughout the Silk Room like the bass-line of a dubstep masterpiece.
But Yvette hadn't gotten as far as she did on the Silk Room fighting circuit by not knowing her options and keeping a few tricks up her sleeve. Even with one leg and both hands trapped, she managed to wiggle enough to roll onto her, pulling her trapped leg free in the process as she slid under Ulyana, even as the powerful fist continued pounding at her head. With her hands still trapped, she couldn't completely escape, but she did get just the right position to explosively buck upwards, sending Ulyana face-first into the mat at the cost of her overly tight trunks, which split down one side and flopped off her uselessly. The maneuver had unfortunately tired her out temporarily and she backed away to recover her wind while sizing her opponent up again, waiting for just the right opportunity...
