HOME | DD

Description

Previous: www.deviantart.com/cfmech/art/…

Next: www.deviantart.com/cfmech/art/…

Lizzy Field wasted no time capitalizing on the first moment of explosive offense she'd managed all night. The moment she planted her foot back down on the mat she was hunting, prodding, looking for a way to put this woman away for good and put their wretched first round behind them. Jet swayed to her left, arms tucked tightly to her sides like rails as she shuffled. She needed time that Lizzy refused to give, instead eating a stiff jab as the tall brunette stalked her prey.

"Keep fighting." The referee instructed, echoing the excited commands coming from Lizzy's own team at cageside. Push. Keep fighting. Keep hitting her. Don't stop.

If the ref wouldn't intervene, Lizzy wouldn't stop. Jet offered token offense, landing with that leaning right straight that she could seemingly still score even half conscious. But in her reduced state, it lacked the power that made it an effective deterrent, and Lizzy ignored it, pressing with the same long straight punches and thudding kicks that'd won her the round so far.

Lizzy’s shin sunk into Jet's unprotected side and finally crumpled the #4 ranked fighter, who turned halfway to the cage as she sank like a leaking ship.

There was something intimately satisfying about the sound of Jet’s breath involuntarily leaving her body. Lizzy found yet another gear, her movements more fluid, intuitive as she pounced. Who was the grappler now?

Jet fought desperately for breath; Lizzy mounted a two-pronged attack, simultaneously attempting to crush Jet’s windpipe between her knees and landing pinpoint strikes to Jet’s midsection to prevent needed inhalation.

Strike after strike to the unprotected rectus abdominis, transverse abdominis, obliques … nothing. Nothing! Jet’s core training was indeed as good as Lizzy had heard.

Jet simply refused to yield, instead focusing every ounce of power she had on extracting her head from between Lizzy’s slick thighs. Every raised and heavily dropped hammer fist reverberated through both girls’ bodies, slowly but surely revealing a sliver of daylight through which Jet forced first her jaw, then her cheeks, displaced nose and pinned ears.

Description

Previous: www.deviantart.com/cfmech/art/…

Next: www.deviantart.com/cfmech/art/…

Lizzy Field wasted no time capitalizing on the first moment of explosive offense she'd managed all night. The moment she planted her foot back down on the mat she was hunting, prodding, looking for a way to put this woman away for good and put their wretched first round behind them. Jet swayed to her left, arms tucked tightly to her sides like rails as she shuffled. She needed time that Lizzy refused to give, instead eating a stiff jab as the tall brunette stalked her prey.

"Keep fighting." The referee instructed, echoing the excited commands coming from Lizzy's own team at cageside. Push. Keep fighting. Keep hitting her. Don't stop.

If the ref wouldn't intervene, Lizzy wouldn't stop. Jet offered token offense, landing with that leaning right straight that she could seemingly still score even half conscious. But in her reduced state, it lacked the power that made it an effective deterrent, and Lizzy ignored it, pressing with the same long straight punches and thudding kicks that'd won her the round so far.

Lizzy’s shin sunk into Jet's unprotected side and finally crumpled the #4 ranked fighter, who turned halfway to the cage as she sank like a leaking ship.

There was something intimately satisfying about the sound of Jet’s breath involuntarily leaving her body. Lizzy found yet another gear, her movements more fluid, intuitive as she pounced. Who was the grappler now?

Jet fought desperately for breath; Lizzy mounted a two-pronged attack, simultaneously attempting to crush Jet’s windpipe between her knees and landing pinpoint strikes to Jet’s midsection to prevent needed inhalation.

Strike after strike to the unprotected rectus abdominis, transverse abdominis, obliques … nothing. Nothing! Jet’s core training was indeed as good as Lizzy had heard.

Jet simply refused to yield, instead focusing every ounce of power she had on extracting her head from between Lizzy’s slick thighs. Every raised and heavily dropped hammer fist reverberated through both girls’ bodies, slowly but surely revealing a sliver of daylight through which Jet forced first her jaw, then her cheeks, displaced nose and pinned ears.