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Description

“You’ve already won the fight! The poor kid hasn’t landed a meaningful punch in over four rounds.” Shelby spritzed a cool mist over a pair of round breasts that rose with slow, controlled breaths. The water was funneled between the spectacular twin peaks to cascade over a sculpted core. A towel dabbed the excess fluid away from the moaning woman’s torso. The corner woman grabbed the blonde’s green mouthpiece that belonged to the ferocious Underground vixen that she called her best friend.

“I’ve had my fun, and I think I’ve made a lasting impression on this flowerchild. You know I’ll stop throwing if Bubbles wants to stop the fight, but if she’s happy, and punchy over there wants to keep going… I’m gonna continue to imprint my message upon her blood-streaked face.” Madison Pyralis’ tongue wrapped over her mouthpiece, and took an index finger with it. “Will you stahhhhop that?? The bell’s about to ring!”

Madison relinquished her chew toy as she rose from her stool. “I needed something lively to play with.” The knuckles of her maroon left glove pointed to a bedraggled brunette using the ropes to push herself up. “I need more than drooling and slobbering over my chest. Ya know what? I’m ending this.”

DING!

The air billowed over the ruffles of red satin trimmed in yellow. A lone flame encased in orange danced below her navel in the space that is usually reserved for a company logo. It was the 14th round, but her maroon boots blazed over the ring apron with blurred orange laces trying to catch up.

Moonbeam Eklund’s heavy footfalls were marked by droplets of blood shaking free from her swollen jaw. The incredibly well endowed brunette sucked wind in through her mouth as her gloves rose into a loose guard when the green eyed devil arrived. “Shtuh-... shtilll twygh-...ing to poof meeksh dowth... gwanma.” Slurred speech had been the norm for the rising Underground star for over half the fight. “GUHHHH! ACK! URPPHH!” A trio of conscious altering shots crashed into her stomach, ribs, and right cheek. She hadn’t thought it possible for a fighter to paint the ring red until she saw her own vital fluid making odd markings and symbols across the vast muddle, grungy canvas.

The shock of seeing a punch coming at her almost ended the punchy girl’s streak of not landing a single punch in a round. Madison’s green eyes chuckled as they eased to the right to let the lazy jab fly by. You pissed me off kid, but I like your gutsy determination. Just not gonna stop me from extracting a proper tribute from your stupid - albeit it cute - ass! A left uppercut swept up to cajole a mini fountain of fine red mist.

The barefoot gladiatrix thought she saw a constellation she recognized in the bloody haze that floated over her battered face. That one kinda… hurt. Upon seeing two Madison’s when her chin was back in place, the flagging pride of the buxom hippie mustered a straight left that had a bit of conviction to it. The small problem was that it was aimed at a gorgeous phantom.

“Shwing anb a mikks!” The vicious southpaw sang as her right fist closed to form a crimson anvil. The ravenous core of the svelte blonde torqued as her hips exploded in a fierce arc. The compact motion catapulted the cataclysmic anvil clean across Moonbeam’s left cheek. The penultimate California Blonde smirked at the resilience of this beaten, demolished fighter as a white mouthpiece settled under the far ropes. She stood in shock as her right hook hadn’t put this slender hippie flat on her back.

Bubbles’ bubble burst much to her own surprise. She had been so keenly watching the bloodletting unfolding before her. It would be a shame to stop the fight. Moonbeam still might have something up her sleeve. I should get a new stick of gum!

Dreamily swaying with her feet still rooted to the mat, Moonbeam’s deadened eyes fluttered as she intermittently blacked-out. Maybe… Mad-... what was… her name? Madison wasn...t too old… after… all?

“I tinksh youfs gocks dah mekkage dibn yoush wittle gur? Neckth tikm… I tape yo knife!” The southpaw’s boots hovered above the canvas to switch spots. From her orthodox stance, Madison Pyralis launched a lethal right cross from her preloaded shoulder. The leather, maroon freight train gaining velocity as it neared the target.

They were both nearly swollen shut, but two grey eyes doubled in size as Moonbeam realized she might be meeting her maker very shortly. Her own blood caked atop Madison’s knuckles vanished as her eyelids closed, not wanting any part of watching the impending, painful conclusion to what she had imagined would be her greatest triumph to date.

-

This commission from (And his excerpt above) captures in gory detail a 1998 grudge match between the hippie champ Moonbeam Eklund and "not-so-over-the-hill" title holder Madison Pyralis. Things got a little brutal and after the fight, Moony developed a bit of a speech impediment. The venerable Bubbles maintained pugilistic jurisdiction over the proceedings.

Description

“You’ve already won the fight! The poor kid hasn’t landed a meaningful punch in over four rounds.” Shelby spritzed a cool mist over a pair of round breasts that rose with slow, controlled breaths. The water was funneled between the spectacular twin peaks to cascade over a sculpted core. A towel dabbed the excess fluid away from the moaning woman’s torso. The corner woman grabbed the blonde’s green mouthpiece that belonged to the ferocious Underground vixen that she called her best friend.

“I’ve had my fun, and I think I’ve made a lasting impression on this flowerchild. You know I’ll stop throwing if Bubbles wants to stop the fight, but if she’s happy, and punchy over there wants to keep going… I’m gonna continue to imprint my message upon her blood-streaked face.” Madison Pyralis’ tongue wrapped over her mouthpiece, and took an index finger with it. “Will you stahhhhop that?? The bell’s about to ring!”

Madison relinquished her chew toy as she rose from her stool. “I needed something lively to play with.” The knuckles of her maroon left glove pointed to a bedraggled brunette using the ropes to push herself up. “I need more than drooling and slobbering over my chest. Ya know what? I’m ending this.”

DING!

The air billowed over the ruffles of red satin trimmed in yellow. A lone flame encased in orange danced below her navel in the space that is usually reserved for a company logo. It was the 14th round, but her maroon boots blazed over the ring apron with blurred orange laces trying to catch up.

Moonbeam Eklund’s heavy footfalls were marked by droplets of blood shaking free from her swollen jaw. The incredibly well endowed brunette sucked wind in through her mouth as her gloves rose into a loose guard when the green eyed devil arrived. “Shtuh-... shtilll twygh-...ing to poof meeksh dowth... gwanma.” Slurred speech had been the norm for the rising Underground star for over half the fight. “GUHHHH! ACK! URPPHH!” A trio of conscious altering shots crashed into her stomach, ribs, and right cheek. She hadn’t thought it possible for a fighter to paint the ring red until she saw her own vital fluid making odd markings and symbols across the vast muddle, grungy canvas.

The shock of seeing a punch coming at her almost ended the punchy girl’s streak of not landing a single punch in a round. Madison’s green eyes chuckled as they eased to the right to let the lazy jab fly by. You pissed me off kid, but I like your gutsy determination. Just not gonna stop me from extracting a proper tribute from your stupid - albeit it cute - ass! A left uppercut swept up to cajole a mini fountain of fine red mist.

The barefoot gladiatrix thought she saw a constellation she recognized in the bloody haze that floated over her battered face. That one kinda… hurt. Upon seeing two Madison’s when her chin was back in place, the flagging pride of the buxom hippie mustered a straight left that had a bit of conviction to it. The small problem was that it was aimed at a gorgeous phantom.

“Shwing anb a mikks!” The vicious southpaw sang as her right fist closed to form a crimson anvil. The ravenous core of the svelte blonde torqued as her hips exploded in a fierce arc. The compact motion catapulted the cataclysmic anvil clean across Moonbeam’s left cheek. The penultimate California Blonde smirked at the resilience of this beaten, demolished fighter as a white mouthpiece settled under the far ropes. She stood in shock as her right hook hadn’t put this slender hippie flat on her back.

Bubbles’ bubble burst much to her own surprise. She had been so keenly watching the bloodletting unfolding before her. It would be a shame to stop the fight. Moonbeam still might have something up her sleeve. I should get a new stick of gum!

Dreamily swaying with her feet still rooted to the mat, Moonbeam’s deadened eyes fluttered as she intermittently blacked-out. Maybe… Mad-... what was… her name? Madison wasn...t too old… after… all?

“I tinksh youfs gocks dah mekkage dibn yoush wittle gur? Neckth tikm… I tape yo knife!” The southpaw’s boots hovered above the canvas to switch spots. From her orthodox stance, Madison Pyralis launched a lethal right cross from her preloaded shoulder. The leather, maroon freight train gaining velocity as it neared the target.

They were both nearly swollen shut, but two grey eyes doubled in size as Moonbeam realized she might be meeting her maker very shortly. Her own blood caked atop Madison’s knuckles vanished as her eyelids closed, not wanting any part of watching the impending, painful conclusion to what she had imagined would be her greatest triumph to date.

-

This commission from (And his excerpt above) captures in gory detail a 1998 grudge match between the hippie champ Moonbeam Eklund and "not-so-over-the-hill" title holder Madison Pyralis. Things got a little brutal and after the fight, Moony developed a bit of a speech impediment. The venerable Bubbles maintained pugilistic jurisdiction over the proceedings.