My first story . . . at least the beginning of it.

[Heather Harrison]

Fightballz - Preface

 

I came out of the locker room dressed for my first match.  Me:  22 years old, 5 feet 4 inches tall, 105 pounds, blonde hair, green eyes, 34D-23-32.  The outfit that I had been given to wear looked like something a stripper would call a schoolgirl costume:  Thin white tank top (with no bra), ultra-short tartan skirt, white panties, and knee-high socks.  Completing the look, my hair was tied into a pair of long pigtails, and there was black platform shoes on my feet – 3” platforms in front, 7” spiked heels in back.

I walked over to the man that I only knew as the ‘Fightmaster’.  He was eyeing me up – obviously liking what he saw.  “I actually have to wear this thing?” I asked in kind of a whiney voice.  “I look like an effin slut.”

He made a quick note on his PDA as he smiled down at me.  “You know the rules Heather – the fans get to pick your costume.  You’re lucky we set limits to what they can pick from.  And, as far as I’m concerned, you are an effin slut.”

He removed from his pocket some sort of white leather straps with small red balls attached to them.  “These are the last pieces of your costume.  One goes on each of your wrists – and one on each ankle.”

I held my wrists out so he could fasten them.  They just wrapped around them and overlapped each other and got kind of warm.  I figured there was something like glue on them to hold them shut.  He repeated the process, putting them on my ankles too as he asked, “You were a cheerleader were you not?”  I nodded in response.  “You can still do the splits?”  Again I nod.  Once again he typed some things into his PDA.

“Let me explain the rules,” he continued.  “You will fight five rounds of five minutes each.  Nothing stops the fight – no pin, no submission – all 5 minutes are complete in each round.  The judges will determine who won.

“The fight is primarily wrestling, but some limited striking is allowed.  Limited in that you can only strike male opponents beneath the belt.  Female fighters, such as you, can be struck either beneath the belt or in the breasts.”

I interrupted him, “That’s hardly fair!”

He smiled and made another PDA notation.  “Fair has nothing to do with it.  Let me explain how the Fightballz work.”  He gestures toward one of the red balls strapped to my wrist.  “When we activate them, they repel each other.”  He hits a button on his PDA and my ankles are forcefully pulled outwards – dropping me into the splits.  “That was just the ankle ones,” he states as the pulling lets up and I can get back to my feet.  Suddenly my ankles and wrists are both pulled to the sides – pulling my legs apart about 100 degrees, and my hands up and to the sides at the same time.  “That was the full set,” he explains.

“So – here’s the deal.  While you’re fighting, every 15 seconds a set of Fightballz will be activated – either yours or your opponents.  Within the 3 seconds that they are thus held vulnerable, I highly recommend smashing them in the groin with those shoes of yours has hard as you can – ‘cause if yours are the ones activated, they’ll be doing the same thing to you.  Now, it’s generally a 50-50 chance as to who’s Fightballz activates, but you complained to me about this nice costume that we have provided for you – so we’re slanting it against you 25%-75%.  And wait!  You also complained about the rules being unfair – let’s make it 12.5%-87.5%.  Do you have anything else you want to complain about?”

Did I want to complain?  You bet!  But I just kept my mouth shut.

I’m going to interrupt for just a second to let you know about how I wound up here in the first place.  I don’t want to bore you – so I won’t go into details – but here’s the basics:

My little sister, Tracy, ended up owing a ton of money to a ruthless loan shark.  Since she could not pay, he was going to “rent her out” until he recouped his money (plus interest).  He let her call me so I could negotiate a different payback method.  His deal was this – I had to fight in his ‘Fightballz League’, completing at least 1 fight per week, until I won 3 fights.  Once that is done we are both free to go.  I didn’t like the sound of it, but what choice did I really have?  So I agreed.

OK – back to the now.  I was liking this even less then when I agreed to the deal, but I’d go through anything to keep my innocent little sister safe – so I was resolved to go through with it.

As I was pondering everything I just learned, a door opened and a pretty woman in a cheerleaderish outfit came out.  “OK Heather,” she said. “I’m your coach for this fight.”  She put her arm around me and started leading me down the dark hall.  “You got a pretty good draw for your first fight – you should be able to win this one.  His name is Matt.  He’s not too big – about 170 or so.  Pretty quick but not too much power.  The main problem is that he’s pretty desperate.  They keep a lot of the guys here on this drug – it makes them super horny, but completely unable to cum.  He’s been here for just over 90 days now – and has about the worst case of blueballs in the history of man.  He beats you and he gets out.  OK – so THOSE are your targets.  You smash your shoes into them as often and hard as you can and there is no way he can beat you.”

At this point we entered the arena.  A bright spotlight blasted down upon me, blinding me, as the 10,000 or so fans started to cheer and scream.  My coach led me on, the lights and screams making it nearly impossible to even think.

The announcers voice came out over the loudspeakers.  (his announcements are followed by my thoughts in parenthesis).  “And the challenger (me?) weighing in at an even 105 pounds (how did he know that?) a stripper (false) from Las Vegas Nevada (false) . . . . . H . . . E . . . A . . . T . . .H . . . E . . . RRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR!!!”

And the crowd went wild.

[Zwyx]

I like where this thread is going.

[1ucbmg4gx8kq6]

Well, I am new to the site and one thing is for sure, you really write well aside from putting together an interesting subject. I am looking forward to the next episode.

[JackD]

Great start, really well written - can't wait to read the next installment (and loving the outfit!).

[Jbblover]

This is looking like its going to be really good can't wait for the next part

[Heather Harrison]

Heather’s First Fight – Round 1:

The spotlight that was following me turned off as I got to the edge of the fighting ring. Like a boxing ring, each corner had a stout steel post sticking up from it. No ropes however – just a steel pipe extending around the perimeter between the posts – a little higher than waist-high on me. The area remained clear beyond where the enclosed ring was. About 6 feet outwards of the ring, all the way around, there was a white line on the floor.

My coach leaned in close – talking directly into my ear so I could hear her over the roaring crowd. “Two things you need to know. First, that white line – once you step in you do NOT leave for anything or you will be severely punished. Once the fight is over and you are dismissed you will be able to leave. Second thing – going into or out of the center ring – always go over the bar. Going under it is a rules violation – for which you’d be harshly penalized. Over the bar only. Now go get him!” She slaps me on the ass and I jog forward toward the ring.

The crowd erupts in cheers as I grab the steel ring bar and vault over it into the ring. I wave to them and smile.
Across the ring was ‘Matt’. He was not smiling – just staring at me intently. He was a good-looking guy, about 25 or so, and looked quite fit. He was wearing orange spandex shorts that were very tight and featured a prominent bulge that looked almost like he had a pair of oranges stuffed down there. And they jutted out strangely far (there was like a metal collar around the base of his sack). On his feet: a pair of well worn Nikes. Oh, and like me, he had the ‘Fightballz’ strapped to his wrists and ankles.

A big guy in a ref outfit came into the middle of the ring and gestured for us to come forward. He gave us the pre-fight directions, “Matt, Heather. Make this a dirty fight. Remember Heather – no hits above the waist. Matt – you know what to do. Any violation of the rules will be met with a harsh penalty. OK – get back to your corners. When the bell rings come out fighting.”

I went back to my corner – simultaneously pumped up and terrified. The ref left the ring. Once he was out the crowd roared in delight as the starting bell went ‘DING’.

There was not any of that initial dancing around that seems to happen at the beginning of fights. Matt just came straight at me, with me slowly moving forward from my corner. As he got close I dodged to the side and aimed a kick at the big bulge in the front of his shorts. I nearly fell over as I did so – badly off balance from these freakin’ shoes! He grabbed my foot as my weak, off-balance kick missed him completely. Then he lifted, twisted, and pushed – shoving me down on the mat – sprawled down on my hands and knees. He then stomped down once hard on my ass – flattening me down onto my chest. He took a step back, preparing the next part of his attack.

Then it happened! His Fightballz activated. Suddenly he was standing over me, legs spread about 90 degrees, and unable to move. I quickly rolled onto my back, pulled a foot back, and drove one of my thick, hard platforms straight up into his vulnerable nads.

About the time that I struck he was free – and crumpled inward while staggering to the side while holding his groin. I could hear my coach yelling, “Don’t let him get away! Get him to the ground and stomp them flat!!!” I quickly jumped to my feet and lunged at him – grabbing his arms, pulling myself forward, and driving my knee up into his aching balls. His hands were in the way, but it didn’t matter much as my knee crunched upwards hard. I pulled my leg back and rammed it up again as he screamed, then I pulled back another time, preparing to ram his groin as hard as I could with my knee.

But then my Fightballz activated. My feet were pulled sideways – spreading my legs well over 90 degrees. My wrists were pulled straight upward. I was held helpless and he was mad!

Fortunately he was in too much pain to step back and kick. He just kind of let go of his balls and fell forward onto me – his hands grabbing my breasts. He squeezed them hard and lurched forward.

Suddenly, I was free of my restraints – and falling flat on my back with Matt on top of me. I landed hard, and he didn’t let go. He lay directly on top of me squeezing and twisting my D-cups as hard as he could. “I’m gonna rip the silicone right out of you bitch!” he screamed straight into my face as I writhed in agony and tried to pull his hands away. The pain was unimaginable as his fingers dug deeply into my breast flesh and twisted.

Things got even worse a few seconds later – my Fightballz activated again – this time pulling both my arms and legs straight to the sides, pulling my legs completely into the splits!

Matt could tell what was happening when my hands started pulling away and my legs started moving – so he moved back so he was kneeling between my legs. Then he cranked his arm back and, just as my feet were pulled apart as widely as possible BAM! – he punched me in the pussy as hard as he could.

The pain was beyond anything I had ever imagined. I screamed in agony, wanting to roll up into a little ball, but my Fightballz were still holding me spread. Matt used the opportunity to drive another hard punch into my groin before I was released.

Now I rolled up into a ball – my hands between my legs, barely able to move from the pain. Matt climbed back to his feet, wincing from the pain in his balls. He grabbed me by my long pigtails, and dragged me toward one side of the ring. As he dragged me my Fightballz activated again – changing my rolled-up position to spread-eagle, but he was too busy to take advantage of it.

Once he had dragged me to the middle of one side of the ring, he picked me up (by my hair) and slammed me, chest-first, into the bar. He pushed on my back – pressing me hard against the bar, pinning me there. A few seconds later my arms and legs were pulled outwards for the 4th time – leaving me absolutely helpless as he stepped back and launched a full-force front kick between my legs.

My scream of agony was deafening. I started to slump down onto the floor, but he lunged his hands into my back – pushing me forward when my tits were still above the bar and pressing so that I could not fall back to the ground. He taunted me, “Let’s do that a few more times slut.”

I struggled and squirmed to try to get free – but the position that he had me held in made it almost impossible. I could see the crowd in front of me yelling and cheering – rallying him on to kick me harder. The feeling that I dreaded, my ankles being irresistibly pulled outward, came yet again. I winced, knowing what was coming.

He didn’t rush it this time like he did on the last. He stepped quickly back, balanced himself for maximum power, pulled his leg back, and kicked forward like he was trying to make an 80 yard field goal. Instead of meeting a football, the laces of his shoes met my cunt.

Intense pain shot through me again and I screamed even louder. My legs felt weak and I started to slump down – but again he pressed me back into the bar and held me up. This time I didn’t even try to escape – I just held my battered groin as tears streamed down my face, smearing my makeup as I leaned forward into the bar. The crowd started up a chant of ‘HARDER . . . HARDER . . . HARDER . . . HARDER’ as the first few rows in front leered at me lustfully.

The outward pull on my ankles began again. Again he stepped back and aimed a full-force kick up at my cunt – but this time he kicked with the toes – slamming more deeply and painfully then the times before.

The pain was unbearable - I felt like I was gonna die. I knew that I could not take more of this. As I sunk toward the floor he pushes into my back again, realizing that he could probably keep this up for the rest of the round. The chants of ‘HARDER . . . HARDER . . .HARDER’ continued.

Looking down, I saw that his feet seemed to be pretty far apart. I tensed up, realizing that he’d let his guard down a bit. I carefully shifted my weight to my left foot, keeping my position. I leaned it a bit more into the bar to hold myself steady at ‘WHAM’ raised the back of my right heel up onto his balls as hard as I could.

That had four effects. First, Matt screamed in agony. Second, he let go of me and dropped his hands to his groin. Third, the crowd cheered loudly – apparently they’re not all against me, they just want to see lots of pain. Fourth, elated by the success of my strike and the cheer of the crowd, I started to think ‘I can win this!’

Knowing that my Fightballz were going to activate again any second, I lunged forward over the bar – falling rather non-gracefully onto my face on the far side, but out of the right nonetheless. Laying there, my legs and wrists pulled outward once again – back all the way out to the splits this time. They released as Matt straightened up to stare over at me. As I stood up, he prepared to vault over the bar.

I should note here that the pain had not gone away or anything. As I moved around it felt like my clit was being squeezed in a vice. But, given my situation, I did what had to be done.

My plan to just run away was thrown out as soon as I thought of it. Even walking in these shoes was nearly impossible. Running? I’d be on my face on about the third step. My new plan – as he comes over the bar he should be at least momentarily vulnerable. Move in and attack!

I was acting like I could barely stand – bent forward in pain as he made his move over the bar. He appeared to be very tentative about jerky moves as he grabbed the bar and gingerly swung his legs over one side. He obviously was not expecting me to attack.

I started charging forward as his legs were over the bar – and was in his face about the time they hit the floor. His feet were together – so I could not swing my foot up between them, but they were in front – so I could still drive me knee up into them.

My knee hit hard as my shoulders pushed him back against the bar. I grabbed the bar on both sides of him – trapping him in front of me and raised my knee into his balls a second and third time. He was now the one who could barely stand and was screaming out in agony. His arms were outside of mine – so he could not bend forward and protect his manhood. I had him trapped!

Ooops. My plan had a flaw. My Fightballz activated again – pulling me legs to the sides and my arms up and out. He was in agony, but not about to give up this opportunity. His hands went to my shoulders to steady himself – then he knee was rammed up into my cunt.

My ‘Ballz’ deactivated and we both fell – with Matt falling on top of me. He lay there between my legs, holding his nuts and moaning in pain. I just lay there in pain – he was in the way of being able to hold my own groin. To the crowd it looked obscenely like we were ‘going at it’ – though nothing was further from either of our minds.

Another cycle of the Fightballz pulling me into the splits happened as we were starting to at least partially recover. His position didn’t allow him to take advantage of it though. Then we both slowly started to get to our feet.

I was halfway up when I was pulled into the splits again. This toppled me onto my back. Matt, now standing, stepped forward and stomped – my battered pussy smashed by his foot yet again. The stomp threw him a little off balance – so he staggered to the side holding his balls while I curled up into a ball holding my agonized self.

Matt was staggering back my direction when I am again pulled into the splits. He reacts by stomping down again – this time on my right boob – STOMP – STOMP – GRIND . . . . .

I moved my hand up to try to pull his foot away – but there’s no chance of me moving him. I twist around a bit to try to pull loose. In the process I twist slightly to my right side – so now his foot is crushing my breast into the floor next to me rather than back into my chest. I writhe in pain, helpless, as his weight crushing down pins me in place.
Again, my arms and legs are pulled outward. Matt, ready for that, turns and drops down on top of me so he’s sitting on my chest. He winces as his balls slap down on me from this move – but not so much as I scream from his elbow being driven into my split.

I start to move again – bringing my legs in to protect myself. Matt moves too – pushing his arms up between my knees, wrapping them around, and pulling up – so my knees are trapped under his arms and against his body and my butt is sticking up in the air.

The crowd cheers on as this position exposes the entirety of my panties to them. Matt keeps my locked in place like this until my ankles and wrists start to pull outward again – then he does a double-hand slam-down where his elbow had slammed 14 second earlier.

Matt grabbed my skirt as he stood up – ripping it off me and throwing it into the crowd. The roar was deafening even though the skirt hadn’t covered much anyway. I wanted to just lay there and moan in pain but I knew that he’d be stomping or slamming me again in about 10 more seconds if I did nothing – so I staggered back to me feet – the pain between my legs screaming for me to stop.

He stalked back toward me – knowing he’d be getting another free kick in a few seconds and wanting to make to most of it. I was again trying to figure out how to run away when it happened – HIS Fightballz started pulling his wrists and ankles outward.

The last 225 seconds had taught me the wrong side of the phrase ‘no mercy’. Now I wanted to learn the right side of the word ‘vengeance’. Time seemed to slow down. I looked down at the hard, chunky front platforms of my shoes. I looked up at the big (and looked to be swollen even larger) double-bulge in his shorts. I took a half-step forward. My right foot swung back – way back. I then swung it forward as hard as I could. I was staring straight at the look of sheer horror in his face when my foot struck his balls with every ounce of force my 105 pound body could muster.
His scream was deafening. As had happened to me before, he was held for just a second or two longer before the Fightballz released him and he could pitch forward. Meanwhile, my kick had thrown me off-balance and I fell to the side.

He rolled around on the floor next to me groaning as I took advantage of the brief break in action to recover a little. My Fightballz held me down, spread-eagle, 3 more times as he writhed around next to me – unable to do anything about it. I rolled to my feet fast after the third time – trying to take advantage. I stepped over to him, pulled his knees apart, and did a knee drop down between his legs. He hands were in the way, but that seemed to get him pretty good anyway. I drove my knee up once more before my extremities were again pulled outward making me helpless. He half-climbed on top of me then – trying to pin me down with his weight. I was just squirming out from under him when my Fightballz activated for the final time of the round. He slowly climbed to his feet – so slow that I wasn’t too worried. But they didn’t release! I was held with my legs fully split and my arms up to my sides as he took a few steps back. He stepped forward, brought his foot back, and kicked my cunt HARD as I was held helpless.

‘DING DING’. That kick ended the round.

*** *** *** *** ***

Hi guys. Just a quick follow up to this chapter of the story. During the prelude I said ‘ 5 minute rounds – 5 of them’. I have just discovered that a 5 minute round is a few hours of work. I’d like to try to keep up a pace of 1 or 2 rounds each week – but we’ll see what my schedule allows.

So – my question to you: Should I drop fight lengths to 2 or 3 rounds (and thus vary the opponents more)? Or should I stick to 5 rounds? I’d prefer if you message me privately rather than post here – so peoples votes will not be influenced.

Oh – and one other thing. My future matches – you will have a lot of say over them. Who I fight for one thing – what I wear, how much I annoy ‘Fightmaster’ and what he does about it, if I’m put in a handicap match (against 2 or more guys at a time) – things like that.


Thanks for the feedback I’ve gotten so far. Round 2 coming soon.

- Heather

[jackie tsen]

to many disavantages to heather. male should take more than ladies.

[Lorren]

nah, keep the balance as it is. but I'm happy if the rounds are shorter if it keeps you writing : )

Very hot

[Lorren]

perhaps instead you can make the matches shorter. best of 3 rounds or 1 long one with a sudden death or golden goal tiebreak round, or modified fightballz rules..? that way you can make the rounds detailed enough over 5 mins but still get onto different matches without straining yourself or running out of ideas

[John Stanbrecht]

Excellent story Heather! You are a talented writer and I like your style. The pace is great but maybe shorter rounds would let you explore some different scenarios? Maybe once you get more used to the fightballz you can use them to your advantage :)

[jackie tsen]

no more? we are waiting...

[Lorren]

John Stanbrecht said:

Excellent story Heather! You are a talented writer and I like your style. The pace is great but maybe shorter rounds would let you explore some different scenarios? Maybe once you get more used to the fightballz you can use them to your advantage :)

Or disadvantage : )

[1r9yh9sifvzsk]

Loved the story! Enjoyed reading about your pussy taking a bashing - can't wait for the follow up , sounds like his balls are in for it