Who’s The Best? Freema Agyeman vs. Hannah Spearritt by S.P. Eider

In the ring, Freema Agyeman was moments away from adding another win to an impressive list of victories, as she rained punches on her woefully outclassed opponent. Hannah Spearitt was staggering around the canvas, her vacant face bruised and swollen. Freema sunk a glove into the battered girl’s gut, doubling her over. The crowd cheered and booed in equal measure, but Freema bathed in any recognition, raising her hands above her head and walking slowly around her clearly already beaten opponent. Hannah stood upright, still breathing heavily and looked around blankly for Freema, who was now standing behind. Tapping her gently on the shoulder, Freema waited as the blonde turned around.

Obviously almost out her feet, Hannah’s gloves were barely raised above waist height when she faced Freema and the black haired beauty swiftly made her pay for her complacency. A left hook slammed into Hannah’s jaw, knocking her head sideways. A right cross did the same, smacking her back in the other direction. Freema began to deliver rights and lefts in rapid succession. Each one could have Hannah to the canvas but Freema kept her on her feet by keeping her blows quick, and continuing to alternate between left and right punches, pounding Hannah’s face like a volleyball going back and forth across a net.

From the corner of her eye, Freema noticed the referee approaching fast, undoubtedly with the intention of stopping the fight. Determined not to be denied yet another first round knockout (for it was indeed only 126 seconds into the match), Freema quickly took a quick sidestep so that her own body obscured the referee’s view of her blonde punching bag. Freema then powered her glove deep into the Hannah’s crotch, the pain intense enough to snap her out of her punch-drunk stupor just long enough for her to emit a guttural yelp, before a thunderous uppercut caught her cold directly on the chin and she collapsed backward into the ropes, hanging limply like a butterfly trapped in a spider’s web.

Before the referee was on the scene, Freema quickly shook the ropes with her gloved hands, causing Hannah opponent to slump face forwards onto the canvas. Freema stepped aside and allowed the official to make the formal, but wholly unnecessary ten count over the comatose woman.

As Freema paraded the ring, basking in the crowd’s equal adulation and detestation, she noticed a face in the crowd, a blonde woman with an attractive but currently impassive face. She shook her head slightly at Freema’s delight in her effortless victory, and Freema grinned smugly as she blew her spectator an exaggerated kiss.

“You’re next, Billie,” she called out across the sound of the baying crowds. “Think you’ll last longer than this one?” she sneered, waving a glove in the direction of the still unconscious woman beneath him. “Hey,” she shouted, a thought suddenly occurring to her, “How about a taste of things to come?” she asked, and moved back towards the knocked out female.

The referee was still in the ring and made a move to stop Freema; one glance at her face quickly changed his mind and he quickly clambered through the ropes. Alone with her recent prey, Freema pulled Hannah back to her feet. Her consciousness was returning slowly, but she was still in no state to support her own weight. Ever the sportswoman, Freema dragged Hannah to the corner of the ring, the corner nearest to Billie’s seat in the crowd. Freema hung the woozy Hannah over the ropes on either side of the corner-post, her back leaning against it. Freema twisted the ropes around each of Hannah’s wrists for good measure, as she stirred.

“Whhuuu.....?” She mumbled weakly, her eyes opening gradually as her cognitive functions slowly came back.

Freema took one last look into the crowd, her stare connecting directly with Billie’s. “We fight in three weeks time,” she shouted. “And here’s just a little of what you’ll be getting....” Turning her attention solely on her defenseless punching bag, Freema ploughed a gloved fist deep into Hannah’s soft belly.

She grunted as the blow connected, eliciting an “OOOMMFFFF!!!”

With her arms trapped, the blonde’s natural instinct too clutch her stomach was denied. Instead her legs lifted off the canvas, as she doubled up in pain. She was far too weak too hold them up for long though, and they dropped back down, allowing her winded gut no relief.

Any respite would have been short-lived anyway as Freema again slammed a punch into Hannah’s stomach, once more causing the helpless female to utter a breathless “UUUNMMMMPPPPHHHHH!!!” as Freema’s glove drove into her belly. The athletic fighter began to dance on her feet, as though ready to avoid a barrage of punches from her opponent that was clearly not coming.

“Let’s see if I can find a way through your defense here,” Freema mocked at her trussed target, bobbing and weaving before slamming a vicious right hook crashing into Hannah’s cheek. Her head rocked sideways and she grunted a pained, “Unnkkkkkhhhh!!!” as Freema’s glove connected with absolute conviction. “I think you’ve left yourself open a little on your left too,” she smirked, and delivered a left cross that sent a spray of blood and spittle spraying from Hannah’s mouth as her punch hit home.

The two successive strikes had been almost enough to send the woman back to dreamland, and would have done had Freema not been holding back just enough to prolong her showboating. Hannah’s head slumped forward woozily, so much so that Freema’s subsequent uppercut caught her full in the face, momentarily distorting what had been an attractive visage before the match had started. The impact snapped Hannah’s head backwards, and left her staring up into the arena’s ceiling lights. Her eyes were still open, but glazed over, suggesting that her own lights may have been on but there was no-one home. Freema decided to knock and see.

Freema’s leather glove ploughed decisively into Hannah’s pussy, the soft almost inaudible thump as leather hit silk shorts was a stark contrast to the intense pain the blow had clearly caused. The blonde’s legs closed involuntarily around Freema’s gloved fist and she gurgled a strangled yelp of agony. Hannah’s head jerked upright, her face contorted in pain and tears glistened in the corners of her eyes. “Oh hey, you are still with us,” exclaimed Freema. “I’m glad to hear it,” she grinned. “Let’s hear it again.” Freema’s glove slammed into Hannah’s crotch for a second time, causing her to cry out again; it was a guttural high pitched animalistic grunt that highlighted her loss of any control. Tears now flowed freely down Hannah’s face, and then showered the nearby fans in front row seats as Freema’s merciless flurry of lefts and rights smacked Hannah’s head from side to side, each blow spraying her blood, sweat, spit and tears from her face.

Billie had seen enough and leapt from her seat. She sprinted to the ring and climbed through the ropes, determined to put a stop to the beatdown she was witnessing. Placing herself directly between Freema and the groaning woman hanging on the turnbuckle, she stared into the vicious fighter’s eyes. “I’m going to make you pay for this,” she said through gritted teeth. “I don’t care where, when or how. You call it, I’ll be there”

Freema shrugged, “What’s the problem? She’s perfectly OK, look.”

She waved her glove casually towards the Hannah, and Billie automatically turned slightly to look behind her. Instantly realizing her mistake, Billie quickly turned back to face Freema - but it was too late. Freema’s glove slammed into Billie’s unprotected gut, doubling her over with an almighty “WHHHHHHHHHHHHHHUUUUUUUURRRRPPPPPHHHHHHH!!!”

Freema followed up with an uppercut to the face, her glove connecting with a smack that resounded around the arena as a stunned Billie fell backwards. Unable to control her descent, the back of Billie’s head cracked into Hannah’s already aching pussy. Hannah groaned in agony one last time before unconsciousness finally overcame her. She slumped forwards, falling from the ropes and landing in a tangled mess of limbs on top of the also knocked out Billie.

Freema smirked. “Ladies, please. Get a room!” She raised her hands in victory, already eagerly anticipating her imminent match with Billie. And she knew just what sort of match she wanted.
* * * * * *
The floor of the pit was sandy, and felt deceptively soft underfoot. Freema knew it was less forgiving when you were slammed into it, though her knowledge came purely from the expressions on the faces of the many women that she had done that to, here in the pit over many years of combat. The pit was circular, with a diameter of only about 4 meters. The enclosed space made avoiding your opponent almost impossible, something Freema relished. Many was the time in Freema’s matches that her opponent had tried to flee when they had realized just how outclassed they were; but the pit had given them nowhere to go. There were no doors around the solid stone wall of the pit. Fighters were lowered into the arena, by means of a rope pulley system. Once you were in, you left as either winner. Or unconscious. There was no middle ground.

Although small in width, the walls of the pit were considerably higher, almost twenty feet around its circumference. Glancing upwards, Freema could see a ring of faces leaning over the wall of the pit, looking down in eager anticipation at the contest that was soon to begin. Many of the men were gazing appreciatively at Freema; unsurprisingly perhaps given that she was wearing only a pair of black boxing gloves. And nothing else. She was not remotely self conscious about her naked form, indeed it had been Freema herself who had decided on the apparel, or more specifically, lack of apparel for her upcoming match with Billie. The entire surface of her toned physique glistened under the artificial lights of the pit, whilst her substantial breasts rose and fell in time with her controlled breathing, attracting intense stares from some of the men present.

As she smiled back at her appreciative fans, Freema heard a cheer erupt from the crowd. The heads that circled the pit parted at one point, and a foot swung over the pit wall, resting in a looped rope. The rest of Billie’s body followed and she was soon being lowered into the pit as the cheers from above increased, some for Billie, some for Freema and most simply in anticipation of the upcoming match. When the rope was a few feet from the pit floor, Billie jumped the remaining distance, landing perfectly but not unable to stop gravity causing her ample breasts to bounce somewhat as her feet hit the floor.

Like Freema, Billie wore nothing but a pair of boxing gloves, hers red in color. Her physique was one of near perfection. Blond, shoulder length hair framed a beautiful face, her expressive eyes and winning smile had broken almost as many men’s hearts as she had broken women’s bones. Her chest was all her own, and it moved in unison with her steady breathing as she awaited the start of the match. Before she had begun her successful fight career, Billie had been a dancer many years. It had been her competitive nature that had brought her to the world of mixed combat, and it was a world that she had excelled in, with the same immense success as her acting career.

There was no bell in the pit. The fight would begin as soon as both fighters were present and the pulley-rope was removed. Billie did not even need to look to know that the rope was now gone, indeed she made a point not to take her eyes off of Freema for even a fraction of a second, remembering all-too-well the outcome, the last time she had done that. Freema’s arrogance showed no sign of abating as she walked up to the rival actress , making no obvious attempt to defend herself. They stared, eyeball to eyeball for a few seconds, the crowd falling silent at the intensity displayed between both fighters.

Freema made the first move, her gloved fist speeding towards Billie’s face. The blonde expertly sidestepped the punch, responding with one of her own that Freema could not avoid, the left cross catching her full on the cheek. The quick strike gave Billie an opening for an early salvo, following up her initial punch with a combination of rights and lefts, all hitting home as a surprised Freema tried to cover up. As she brought her gloves up to her face, Billie took her attack downstairs. Freema’s stomach was tough, but Billie’s punches were powerful, fast and stinging in their application and they slowly began to wear the athletic woman down. Freema found herself being forced backwards, and in the enclosed space of the pit it was not long before the cold concrete wall brought her retreat to a halt. She kept her guard up, protecting her face with her gloves, her forearms blocking some of Billie’s blows to her gut but unable to prevent many of them slamming into her sides and kidneys. With few options open to her, Freema could only move into Billie’s assault, enduring the punches as best she could as her put her forearms against Billie’s chest and shoved her backwards.

Billie stumbled back just a few steps, her rhythm temporarily halted but she was still clearly in better shape than the recently battered woman in front of her. Freema clearly was not even aware of her bearings, as her leg swept upwards in an attempt kick to Billie’s face. Even before her foot was halfway towards its target, Billie could see that Freema was about 8 inches too far away for her foot to hit anything. Whilst, Billie could have blocked the kick easily, there was little point exerting herself for a harmless failed attack. As Freema’s foot sailed past her face, Billie suddenly began coughing, her eyes streaming. It was sand. She had breathed some in, the rest had gone into her eyes.

Freema had never intended for her kick to make contact with Billie’s face. Just before she had executed the move, Freema had scrunched the toes of her foot into the sandy surface of the pit, gripping a small amount of sand underneath her bent toes. As her foot had passed the unsuspecting Billie, Freema had straightened her toes, scattering the sand directly into her opponent’s face.

Billie continued coughing, whilst desperately trying to rub her watery eyes, a task made practically impossible by the boxing gloves she wore. She could barely see anything and began to throw random punches, in the hope of keeping Freema at a distance until she her sight returned. Freema sidestepped her flailing gloves with ease, the olive-skinned woman now completely recovered from Billie’s initial mauling. Raising her own gloves, Freema caught the unsuspecting blonde with a quick right cross, smacking her head sideways. A subsequent left cross knocked Billie’s head the other way, causing her to grunt in pain. Freema smiled as she stood directly in front of the visually impaired woman. Billie was barely inches away from Freema, but had no idea her opponent was within touching distance. She found out seconds later, when Freema slammed a glove into her stomach.

As Billie uttered a winded “Ouuupphhh!!” her body jolting with the impact.

Freema followed up with another harsh slug to her gut, this one even lower, just above Billie’s crotch. As Freema’s glove sank into Billie’s soft flesh, the blonde groaned as a piercing pain spread through her lower belly.

Billie groaned considerably louder and longer when Freema’s knee rose sharply and mercilessly upwards, stopping only when it thumped into Billie’s exposed pussy. Her entire body spasmed at the moment Freema’s knee slammed into her crotch, the pain causing Billie to unleash a strangled, “UUUURRRGHHHLLLLLLLL!!!!”

With Billie’s hands dropping to her tender area, Freema again went to work on the blonde’s face. A right hook crashed into the side her mouth, altering her cry of pain that accompanied the blow into a “UUMMMMFFFFF!!”

Freema followed up with a series of jabs, snapping quick powerful punches directly onto Billie’s face. Her head snapped back each time, accompanied by an “Unnngghh!” or an “Unnnkkkk!!”. Every jab smacked full into Billie’s face, her nose and mouth taking the brunt of the punishment. A vicious and perfectly placed uppercut slammed into Billie’s chin, almost lifting her feet from the floor of the pit. She would surely have fallen backwards but the pit wall was behind her and she instead fell back against it, barely able to stay standing.

Freema turned away from the dazed blonde, her arms raised as she looked up to the crowd surrounding the pit. The cheers were enormous - there were no good guys and bad girls as far as a pit audience was concerned. You were either winner or loser, and were recognized accordingly by the assembled spectators. Satisfied with a moment’s adulation, Freema turned back to Billie. She had only just begun.

Standing in front of the defenseless woman, Freema pulled her arm back, ready to unleash another punch. Before she could, Freema noticed a change in the crowd’s reaction. In a moment their cheers of adulation had changed to a chorus of surprise. Unaware of what had caused the audience to sound so surprised, Freema looked up. Sliding down a rope, secured at the top of the pit, was Hannah Spearitt, the very woman Freema had beaten a few weeks previously. The woman Billie had attempted to help. Freema could not help but smile at the symmetry of the situation.

Hannah was naked, and so obviously here to fight. She reached the floor of the pit and turned to face Freema. Though it had been some time since their last encounter, many of the bruises from her contest with Freema were still visible. “Leave her alone,” she said, with more determination than her battle-worn body suggested she should have. “It’s over.”

In a Hollywood movie, such a defiant stand for a friend would have most likely been accompanied by a crescendo of epic music and followed by an enormous cheer by the crowd. But this was real life, and the audience were here to see a fight. They hurled abuse at Billie’s would-be savior, angry at her attempt to halt their entertainment.

Freema grinned at the crowd’s predictable response. “I’m sorry,” she said to Hannah, “What do you plan to do, exactly?.”

“I’m going to UNNNNGGGGGGGGGGGGggghhhhhhhhhhhhhhh.” replied petite blonde.

Although it had not been the sentence that Hannah had planned on saying, it turned out to be entirely accurate as that was exactly what she did do. The noise she had made had actually been response to Freema’s bare foot thudding into her crotch. The same noise accompanied her slow collapse to her knees. A merciless roundhouse kick to the face ended Hannah’s rescue attempt and left her unconscious on the floor of the pit, a small amount of drool dribbled from her mouth, moistening the sand beneath her face.

Freema looked down at the defeated woman with the closest thing she ever could ever get to pity. Which, in all honesty, wasn’t very close at all. Suddenly Billie was on her. Billie’s jumped onto Freema’s back and wrapped her arms around the brunette’s throat. Billie’s legs snaked around Freema’s waist, attempting to crush the life out of the surprised fighter. In a ring surrounded by ropes, Billie’s plan might have succeeded. In the confines of the pit however, it was bound to fail. Before Billie could do any serious damage, Freema back-stepped quickly into the outer wall of the pit, slamming Billie against it with enough impact to loosen the grip of her legs from her body. Billie’s arm remained around Freema’s neck, but with less strength now. Freema drove her right elbow sharply backwards, digging it deeply into Billie’s soft belly.

Billie’s subsequent guttural “OOOOOOUUUUFFFFF!!!” breathed warm air directly onto Freema’s left ear.

Enjoying the sensation, Freema repeated the move with her left elbow, again winding the woman now hanging limply on her back. Eager to make the most of Billie’s prone position, Freema suddenly leant forwards. She flipped Billie over her shoulder, and onto her own back, the blonde fell crashing onto the unforgiving surface of the pit, directly in front of Freema.

Freema smiled at the benefits of Billie’s position. She was on her back, looking upwards at Freema through dazed eyes. Billie’s head was only inches from her feet, and she was lying directly in line with Freema’s pussy. For Freema, it was an opportunity too good to miss. Dropping to her knees, Freema straddled the blonde’s surprised face with her crotch, pinning the blonde’s arms under her knees. Freema’s pussy smothered Billie’s mouth and nose and the dark haired actress could immediately feel Billie struggling for breath beneath her. Billie’s body lay before her, completely unprotected. Freema did not need any more invitation than that and began to slam punch after punch into Billie’s gut and breasts, each impact causing both their bodies to spasm, one in obvious pain, the other in increasing pleasure as her victim’s muffled grunts of breath warmed her increasingly moistening sex, whilst the onslaught continued unabated.

Bringing her gloves together, as if in prayer to some deity of boxers, Freema’s intentions were not so divine. Slamming them down in unison, they pounded into Billie’s exposed crotch. A muffled squeal of pain brought a smile to Freema’s face as Billie’s body curled into a foetal position, clearly in sheer agony. Lifting her crotch from her face, she looked down between her legs and smiled at Billie, who was simultaneously trying to draw breath and groaning in pain. “Still conscious then?” she observed. “Good. I’m just starting to enjoy myself”

Standing up, Freema dragged Billie to her feet. The blonde had the strength to stand, but to do little else. Right now, the simple (and soon to be essential) act of defending herself was as likely as Billie suddenly learning how to play the piano. A bare foot smacked across her face, knocking her sideways with a dazed ,“Unnnhh...!”

The same foot met her face again, this time knocking her in the other direction. And again to the left. And to the right. Freema was executing roundhouse kick after roundhouse kick, the ball of her right foot hammering Billie’s face with the steady rhythm of a metronome, though with the usual ‘tick tock’ replaced with SMACK! “Unnh!” SMACK! “Ummfff!”

The crowd began to clap in time with each of Freema’s kicks, clapping faster and Freema responding in kind by kicking more rapidly. After one last kick, Freema turned away from Billie’s now glassy-eyed, drooling and somewhat bruised face and bowed deeply to the crowd. They roared in appreciation as, without rising from the bow, Freema executed a back heel kick that caught Billie full in the face, momentarily crushing her features into a distorted mess, her mouth twisted, her nose flat beneath Freema’s unstoppable heel. Billie remained standing, but was swaying like a single blade of grass in a breeze. It was time to end it.

Freema moved into with a series of punches to her soft belly, each one causing what little breath remained in Billie’s body to expel with each “OOOFFF!! WHUUUPPHHHH!!!UUURKKKKKHHH!!!”

A vicious left hook sent Billie’s head spinning into the direction of an equally merciless right hook. Freema repeated the left/right combination three times before unleashing a nuclear uppercut that powered into Billie’s chin. She was unconscious the moment the blow struck, and flew backwards against the wall of the pit, sliding down it slowly and ending up in a slumped heap on the floor, alongside her would-be savior, Hannah. The crowd exploded with cheers and applause as Freema waved to the crowd and basked in the adulation of victory.

It did not take long before adulation was not enough for Freema, and she wanted a more tangible prize for her victory. Moving towards the two unconscious women that littered the pit floor, Freema placed a foot on Hannah’s face, gently slapping it to arouse the beaten fighter. As Hannah began to groan gently, Freema turned her attention to Billie and again placed a bare foot on her rival’s face, pushing downwards on her bruised features enough to awaken Billie into a world of pain. Before either of the two floored women could recover enough to offer more than a few cursory moans, Freema pulled them by the hair and feet respectively, positioning them in line with one another, the tops of their heads almost touching. Hannah was face up, Billie face down. To an observer looking at the seen out of context, it could almost have been some strange nude synchronized sand pit swimming display. But it was not. Freema’s human feng-shui had a very specific agenda.

She stood directly over Hannah’s head, and before the blonde could even attempt to struggle out of harm’s way, Freema squatted down, bringing her ass down onto Hannah’s face. Holding Hannah by the hair, Freema shifted back and forth, ensuring Hannah’s nose was buried deep between the cheeks of her ample butt. Freema gave a slight gasp when she found the perfect spot and released Hannah’s hair, who could feel struggling desperately beneath her. Hannah’s struggles increased when Freema shifted her weight from the balls of her feet, allowing her perfect ass, and more specifically, Hannah’s face to take all of her weight beneath her.

Freema quickly leant forwards, just enough to now grab Billie by the hair, pulling the still dazed fighter’s face up from the sandy surface of the pit so as she was be able to look directly into Freema’s eyes.

“You’re done bitch!” said Freema. “But if you don’t want me to just carry on smacking you around for the five solid hours, you had better satisfy me for the next five solid minutes.” Freema glanced over her shoulder and said, a little louder, “And that goes for you too, you stupid cow. You want air... I want tongue”

Suddenly Freema pulled Billie’s face deep into her pussy. Freema’s squatting position meant that her legs were already open and Billie’s nose slid satisfyingly into Freema’s damp vagina. Freema’s body shuddered with the initial contact, and that movement quickly inspired Hannah to probe her tongue upwards, her nose sinking deeper and deeper between Freema’s cheeks. Still grasping Billie’s head by two handfuls of hair, Freema began to grind the blonde’s nose between the lips of her cunt, gritting her teeth as Billie’s face became little more than a tool for Freema’s own increasing pleasure. At the same time, Hannah’s tongue was now probing Freema’s other hole, desperately hoping to satisfy the dark haired actress enough to relieve some of the pressure on her smothered and suffocating face.

Freema’s body began to spasm with jolts of intense gratification as now Billie’s tongue also went to work, stimulating the dominant woman’s throbbing clitoris. Tears were running down the humiliated Billie’s face, she had been both beaten and completely owned. She longed for her humiliation to be over, and soon her hopes were achieved in a final moment of degradation. Arching her back and screaming in utter ecstasy, Freema’s juices exploded onto Billie’s face and tongue, soaking her with the victorious woman’s triumph. Freema held Billie’s face tightly in her pussy as she pumped the last vestiges of pleasure against her defeated rival’s face, before letting her slump face down to the sandy surface of the pit, sobbing in utter shame.

Finally lifting her ass from the also weeping Hannah’s face, Freema stood up and looked down at her two one-time opponents, now simply toys for her pleasure. For now she was satisfied.

But there's always tomorrow…