HOME | DD

Description

"Heh... Not bad." Ophelia whispered, rubbing the tender spot on her jaw. The little homeless woman knew how to throw a punch, and she hit hard for a woman of her size and build. It seemed this 'spar' was perhaps not the waste of time Ophelia first thought it might be. Whilst her prowess had not exactly been tested, she had certainly been entertained a lot longer than she dared to imagine. The towering monster of a form that made Ophelia looked down upon the one they called 'Drifter'. She was a lightweight, an up and comer who was apparently full of surprises if the stories about her were to be believed. Ophelia would give her that much at the very least... Drifter certainly was full of surprises. Even after twenty minutes of being thrown around and slammed, the blue and black haired fighter was still able to rise to her feet after it all and even fight back. Sweat glistened off her exposed skin, her chest heaved with each deep breathe, yet there was still a fire in her eyes and a willingness to fight where even seasoned veterans would have faltered.

It was a shame Drifter never really had a chance. The weight difference and strength was too great between the two to start off with. True, Drifter was capable of inflicting alarming damage with her strikes despite her deceptive build, having hurt Ophelia with a few of her haymakers and kicks... it was certainly not beyond the smaller girl to 'get lucky' if one of those strikes connected in the right place... but she held back earlier, thinking Ophelia would do the same in the spar. Her mistake had been thinking this would be a 'friendly' spar. Though Ophelia had not gone on a full assault, she certainly didn't hold back when it came to her moves. The difference in approach had cost Drifter what miracle of hope she might have had on coming out on top. Still... the young woman was stubborn and that impressed Ophelia. Most stayed down after a few minutes of domination, but this one had spirit and a rare fortitude for someone of her slender stature. She would not tap, she would not stay down, nor was it easy to knock her out it seemed.

Even now Drifter fought, taking another daring swing, burying a deep fist into Ophelia's stomach which actually forced a grunt from the larger woman's parting lips. It was weaker than a previous attack, all but betraying the reality that Drifter was beginning to tire, but still held enough force to give a reaction. After twenty minutes of being bodied by Ophelia, it was to be expected that the girls fire was slowly beginning to dim, even if her spirit did not. Even so, Ophelia knew another strike was coming towards her face, and had no desire to take such a strike again. Throwing up a massive arm, she was able to block the oncoming strike, feeling the bite of Drifter's fist against her muscle. Even tiring she was still throwing good strikes... but it was time to bring this entertainment to a close. Grasping Drifter's neck with her free hand, she clasped her fingers around the slender woman's throat. With terrifying ease she hoisted the smaller wrestler upwards off her barefeet, before slamming her down with awful force in a chokeslam against the thin mat below.

The mat did little to cushion Drifter from the force of the impact, and it felt like the entire ground shook. Ophelia dusted her arms in an arrogant fashion as she stood tall in the aftermath of the move. She looked upon the downed Drifter who lay on her back, not moving at all. With a slight sigh of disappointment that it was finally at an end, Ophelia turned to walk away... until she heard movement behind her. It almost made her smile, and slowly she turned to see Drifter battling to get onto her feet. This girl was remarkable in her resilience, a real fighter. She looked done for to be sure, standing uneasy on trembling legs, breathing deeply as her face was winced in clear pain from the slam. Still... she held a fighting stance... she was all but done... but her body didn't know how to stop fighting, much like her own mentality.

"Th... that... all you got?" Drifter whispered breathlessly.
Part of Ophelia was tempted to walk away from her. It would have been a sign of respect in all honestly... but Ophelia suspected Drifter probably would have actually taken it as a slight against her. As such... she had to put Drifter down, she had earned that much at least. Ophelia stood looking upon Drifter, watching the woman nearly lose her footing as no doubt her senses were still rattled from the chokeslam. She was certainly easy on the eyes. She wore only a white sports bra, a black glove and a red wrap and jeans that cut off below her knees. Drifter was certainly a beauty to look upon. The features of her face where angelic, her body was slender, yet defined and well tuned after enduring what was no doubt years of training. Her midriff was left exposed, her stomach straining and showing off quite the definition. It was only after putting up such a struggle that Ophelia was now giving her the attention she deserved.

As expected, Drifter pushed forwards. Her movement was sluggish now, her guard somewhat lacking with her focus not as sharp. Ophelia was able to see the strike coming before Drifter could even throw it. With a heavy hand she caught Drifter's wrist. Instinctively the girl struck with her other fist... and Ophelia caught that wrist too, beginning to squeeze tightly enough to cause Drifter to shout out in pain. Drifter struggled to break free, her weakening form nowhere near a match for Ophelia's monstrous strength as Ophelia forced her down to one knee in a very one sided test of strength. After a few strained and agonising seconds, Ophelia was content the pressure on her wrists would have disabled her ability to punch, and soon moved to the next part of her plan, quickly scooping Drifter's waist in a powerful body lock with her arms, wrapping her up into a bearhug before hoisting her up off her feet.

Very few lasted very long at this point. Already Drifter was arching back as Ophelia's colossal arms began to tense and seemingly grow as they folded tighter around her body, leaving the smaller woman screaming out in agony. Having already worn down her wrists, it did not matter that her arms were free, as she could no longer strike like she could. Drifter was in too much pain to think straight, she pried at Ophelia's devastating bearhug grasp, trying to find release where there was none. By now, most would be tapping out... but Drifter still struggled on. What was visible of her midriff strained as the woman moaned in agony. Her chest heaved from the restriction of oxygen, and slowly her legs slipped from Ophelia's sides.

It was strangely tantalising to watch. Drifter refused to tap, and as such writhed and struggled. It was quite a joy to watch as her bare midriff strained and contorted as she squeezed her waist. Each time Ophelia pumped pressure, she would arch into a C like shape. By the time Drifter thought to strike at her tormentor, it was far too late. Her strikes held no punch anymore, as Ophelia's mask was able to take the impact. Another oppressing amount of pressure all but stopped any resistance from Drifter. Her head whipped back, her toes curled and soon enough she could not fight at all, simply prying weakly as alluring moans were pressed from her constricted form.

What should have been over in seconds was beginning to take minutes, but Ophelia didn't mind. She was enjoying this perhaps more than she should have. A few weakening strikes were easily absorbed by Ophelia's mask, which she responded in kind to by tightening her vice like grip around the pleasing form of Drifter. After another agonising minute that left Drifter writhing in pain, she sloly began to lull within her grasp, her eyes closing as a soft moan was once again squeezed from her. The sounds were pleasing to Ophelia's ears, the sight of Drifter within her arms even more so. Ophelia adjusted her grip, enjoying the feel of Drifter's failing form against her own well sculpted body. The towering monster of a woman watched with keen interest as Drifters chest rose and fell slowly with each strained breathe... as her bare midriff tensed and strained with each squeeze. It was intoxicating...

Drifter arched one more time as her back creaked from a tightening squeeze of Ophelia's grip. Forcing a moan from Drifter Ophelia would not soon forget. Afterwards, Drifter stopped moving at all, finally passing out from a combination of pain and starvation of oxygen. Ophelia held her for a little while longer, partly to make sure she was out, partly because she did not want to let go just yet. Drifter leaned back, no longer moving, as her body slowly relaxed. Ophelia eased her hug as not to inflict any significant damage, but she took her time holding Drifter, purposely pulling her a little closer so that she leaned against her own form for a few moments. Confident Drifter was out, she slowly eased her limp unconscious form down onto the mat with surprising delicacy, taking a deep breath. Ophelia admired the sleeping form of Drifter just for a moment, feeling a temptation to take her away so she could begin this all over again... but decided against it. There would be other times. She would encounter Drifter again, of that she would make certain of after this encounter. For now, she finally turned and walked away.

--------------------------------------------------

Yikes! Poor Drifter doesn't have much luck against the bigger division girls when it comes to fighting. Ever fearless and full of spirit, Drifter simply doesn't know how to say no to a challenge. She's been up against a fair few opponants who are one or two division classes above her. The results are never great... but it seems things take a turn for the worst again when Drifter encounters and takes on the ever powerful Ophelia in what she thought was suppose to be a 'friendly spar'. It seems they are not quite on the same wave length, when Drifter holds back only to find Ophelia certainly is not. Granted, it was in doubt it would change the outcome of the spar, but perhaps Drifter could have got in with some more hard hits if she had known it was going the way it went!

All things considered, it seems Drifter at the very least manages to earn the respect of Ophelia for lasting much longer than most when she's a lightweight, even in a spar setting as opposed to a match. Her fighting spirit and never say die approach certainly earned an unseen nod... granted... it might have also attracted another kind of attention from Ophelia... but perhaps only time can tell if anything develops further!

Drifter belongs to me
Ophelia Mast belongs to

If you like my work and have spare change with nothing to spend it on, please support me on Ko-Fi
( ko-fi.com/thesteedman )

Description

"Heh... Not bad." Ophelia whispered, rubbing the tender spot on her jaw. The little homeless woman knew how to throw a punch, and she hit hard for a woman of her size and build. It seemed this 'spar' was perhaps not the waste of time Ophelia first thought it might be. Whilst her prowess had not exactly been tested, she had certainly been entertained a lot longer than she dared to imagine. The towering monster of a form that made Ophelia looked down upon the one they called 'Drifter'. She was a lightweight, an up and comer who was apparently full of surprises if the stories about her were to be believed. Ophelia would give her that much at the very least... Drifter certainly was full of surprises. Even after twenty minutes of being thrown around and slammed, the blue and black haired fighter was still able to rise to her feet after it all and even fight back. Sweat glistened off her exposed skin, her chest heaved with each deep breathe, yet there was still a fire in her eyes and a willingness to fight where even seasoned veterans would have faltered.

It was a shame Drifter never really had a chance. The weight difference and strength was too great between the two to start off with. True, Drifter was capable of inflicting alarming damage with her strikes despite her deceptive build, having hurt Ophelia with a few of her haymakers and kicks... it was certainly not beyond the smaller girl to 'get lucky' if one of those strikes connected in the right place... but she held back earlier, thinking Ophelia would do the same in the spar. Her mistake had been thinking this would be a 'friendly' spar. Though Ophelia had not gone on a full assault, she certainly didn't hold back when it came to her moves. The difference in approach had cost Drifter what miracle of hope she might have had on coming out on top. Still... the young woman was stubborn and that impressed Ophelia. Most stayed down after a few minutes of domination, but this one had spirit and a rare fortitude for someone of her slender stature. She would not tap, she would not stay down, nor was it easy to knock her out it seemed.

Even now Drifter fought, taking another daring swing, burying a deep fist into Ophelia's stomach which actually forced a grunt from the larger woman's parting lips. It was weaker than a previous attack, all but betraying the reality that Drifter was beginning to tire, but still held enough force to give a reaction. After twenty minutes of being bodied by Ophelia, it was to be expected that the girls fire was slowly beginning to dim, even if her spirit did not. Even so, Ophelia knew another strike was coming towards her face, and had no desire to take such a strike again. Throwing up a massive arm, she was able to block the oncoming strike, feeling the bite of Drifter's fist against her muscle. Even tiring she was still throwing good strikes... but it was time to bring this entertainment to a close. Grasping Drifter's neck with her free hand, she clasped her fingers around the slender woman's throat. With terrifying ease she hoisted the smaller wrestler upwards off her barefeet, before slamming her down with awful force in a chokeslam against the thin mat below.

The mat did little to cushion Drifter from the force of the impact, and it felt like the entire ground shook. Ophelia dusted her arms in an arrogant fashion as she stood tall in the aftermath of the move. She looked upon the downed Drifter who lay on her back, not moving at all. With a slight sigh of disappointment that it was finally at an end, Ophelia turned to walk away... until she heard movement behind her. It almost made her smile, and slowly she turned to see Drifter battling to get onto her feet. This girl was remarkable in her resilience, a real fighter. She looked done for to be sure, standing uneasy on trembling legs, breathing deeply as her face was winced in clear pain from the slam. Still... she held a fighting stance... she was all but done... but her body didn't know how to stop fighting, much like her own mentality.

"Th... that... all you got?" Drifter whispered breathlessly.
Part of Ophelia was tempted to walk away from her. It would have been a sign of respect in all honestly... but Ophelia suspected Drifter probably would have actually taken it as a slight against her. As such... she had to put Drifter down, she had earned that much at least. Ophelia stood looking upon Drifter, watching the woman nearly lose her footing as no doubt her senses were still rattled from the chokeslam. She was certainly easy on the eyes. She wore only a white sports bra, a black glove and a red wrap and jeans that cut off below her knees. Drifter was certainly a beauty to look upon. The features of her face where angelic, her body was slender, yet defined and well tuned after enduring what was no doubt years of training. Her midriff was left exposed, her stomach straining and showing off quite the definition. It was only after putting up such a struggle that Ophelia was now giving her the attention she deserved.

As expected, Drifter pushed forwards. Her movement was sluggish now, her guard somewhat lacking with her focus not as sharp. Ophelia was able to see the strike coming before Drifter could even throw it. With a heavy hand she caught Drifter's wrist. Instinctively the girl struck with her other fist... and Ophelia caught that wrist too, beginning to squeeze tightly enough to cause Drifter to shout out in pain. Drifter struggled to break free, her weakening form nowhere near a match for Ophelia's monstrous strength as Ophelia forced her down to one knee in a very one sided test of strength. After a few strained and agonising seconds, Ophelia was content the pressure on her wrists would have disabled her ability to punch, and soon moved to the next part of her plan, quickly scooping Drifter's waist in a powerful body lock with her arms, wrapping her up into a bearhug before hoisting her up off her feet.

Very few lasted very long at this point. Already Drifter was arching back as Ophelia's colossal arms began to tense and seemingly grow as they folded tighter around her body, leaving the smaller woman screaming out in agony. Having already worn down her wrists, it did not matter that her arms were free, as she could no longer strike like she could. Drifter was in too much pain to think straight, she pried at Ophelia's devastating bearhug grasp, trying to find release where there was none. By now, most would be tapping out... but Drifter still struggled on. What was visible of her midriff strained as the woman moaned in agony. Her chest heaved from the restriction of oxygen, and slowly her legs slipped from Ophelia's sides.

It was strangely tantalising to watch. Drifter refused to tap, and as such writhed and struggled. It was quite a joy to watch as her bare midriff strained and contorted as she squeezed her waist. Each time Ophelia pumped pressure, she would arch into a C like shape. By the time Drifter thought to strike at her tormentor, it was far too late. Her strikes held no punch anymore, as Ophelia's mask was able to take the impact. Another oppressing amount of pressure all but stopped any resistance from Drifter. Her head whipped back, her toes curled and soon enough she could not fight at all, simply prying weakly as alluring moans were pressed from her constricted form.

What should have been over in seconds was beginning to take minutes, but Ophelia didn't mind. She was enjoying this perhaps more than she should have. A few weakening strikes were easily absorbed by Ophelia's mask, which she responded in kind to by tightening her vice like grip around the pleasing form of Drifter. After another agonising minute that left Drifter writhing in pain, she sloly began to lull within her grasp, her eyes closing as a soft moan was once again squeezed from her. The sounds were pleasing to Ophelia's ears, the sight of Drifter within her arms even more so. Ophelia adjusted her grip, enjoying the feel of Drifter's failing form against her own well sculpted body. The towering monster of a woman watched with keen interest as Drifters chest rose and fell slowly with each strained breathe... as her bare midriff tensed and strained with each squeeze. It was intoxicating...

Drifter arched one more time as her back creaked from a tightening squeeze of Ophelia's grip. Forcing a moan from Drifter Ophelia would not soon forget. Afterwards, Drifter stopped moving at all, finally passing out from a combination of pain and starvation of oxygen. Ophelia held her for a little while longer, partly to make sure she was out, partly because she did not want to let go just yet. Drifter leaned back, no longer moving, as her body slowly relaxed. Ophelia eased her hug as not to inflict any significant damage, but she took her time holding Drifter, purposely pulling her a little closer so that she leaned against her own form for a few moments. Confident Drifter was out, she slowly eased her limp unconscious form down onto the mat with surprising delicacy, taking a deep breath. Ophelia admired the sleeping form of Drifter just for a moment, feeling a temptation to take her away so she could begin this all over again... but decided against it. There would be other times. She would encounter Drifter again, of that she would make certain of after this encounter. For now, she finally turned and walked away.

--------------------------------------------------

Yikes! Poor Drifter doesn't have much luck against the bigger division girls when it comes to fighting. Ever fearless and full of spirit, Drifter simply doesn't know how to say no to a challenge. She's been up against a fair few opponants who are one or two division classes above her. The results are never great... but it seems things take a turn for the worst again when Drifter encounters and takes on the ever powerful Ophelia in what she thought was suppose to be a 'friendly spar'. It seems they are not quite on the same wave length, when Drifter holds back only to find Ophelia certainly is not. Granted, it was in doubt it would change the outcome of the spar, but perhaps Drifter could have got in with some more hard hits if she had known it was going the way it went!

All things considered, it seems Drifter at the very least manages to earn the respect of Ophelia for lasting much longer than most when she's a lightweight, even in a spar setting as opposed to a match. Her fighting spirit and never say die approach certainly earned an unseen nod... granted... it might have also attracted another kind of attention from Ophelia... but perhaps only time can tell if anything develops further!

Drifter belongs to me
Ophelia Mast belongs to

If you like my work and have spare change with nothing to spend it on, please support me on Ko-Fi
( ko-fi.com/thesteedman )