Phoebe vs Ayami

How much more punishment could she take? How much more could she afford to take to dish out? Ayami was doing her utmost best to avoid another head shot, however light. Her breathing was shallower now, more labored. Dried blood caked her nose and her upper lip, and her sheen of sweat covered her taut, bare body.

The jab hit air, but the right hook caught her where it counted. Ayami winced and huffed, but she pushed on, eager to return the favor. Ayami would try to catch the hook dug into her breast with her left arm, pull the redneck in with it, bend low and send a powerful elbow smashing into her midsection.

Phoebe expected Ayami to block the jab. As it turned out, the Japanese girl got a little fancy with it, ducking to the side and making Phoebe’s punch miss altogether. But when Ayami ducked to the side, she ran right into Phoebe’s right hook, which the American used to practically pulverize her foe’s left breast.

Before Phoebe could celebrate, however, her opponent grabbed onto her arm, keeping her knuckles pressed up against the other’s nipple. Phoebe was about to protest when Ayami yanked her in and slammed an elbow into her midsection. The American hollered angrily as she doubled over, pulling hard on her arm to try to yank it free of Ayami’s grip, while her other hand would swing wildly at Ayami’s head.

Ayami threw her head to the side again, and the swing graze across her cheek, another knockdown turned into a stinging near-miss. Ayami wondered what she looked like now: her left breast was undoubtedly bruised purple, she could still feel some fresh blood trickling down her nose, and at least one cheek was undoubtedly swollen. In contrast, Phoebe probably didn't look quite as bad as she did, though she earnestly planned to changed that.

Ayami wasn't gonna hold on to her opponent for very long, so she repeated her move again: coming in again for yet another elbow smash while her shaky grip on Phoebe's hand was still tight enough. At the same time, as she came in close, she would spit right into Phoebe's eyes, returning the favor for that last knockdown taunt.

Phoebe, even in her wounded state, was still able to land some powerful, painful blows to her foe. She was used to fights like this, experienced after years of fighting back at home and here in Japan. Even a wild swing was at least as likely as not to find its mark. The cowgirl would glean a small bit of satisfaction from the feeling of Ayami’s head snapping to the side.

But Phoebe was still on the defensive, and Ayami wasn’t going to let her forget that. The Japanese girl’s elbow slammed into Phoebe’s midsection again, and this time, when the cowgirl doubled over, she got two eyes full of Ayami’s warm saliva. Phoebe screamed in pain and frustration as Ayami let go of her arm and she stumbled backwards, wiping at her eyes with both hands. “Fuck! Fucking whore!” she cursed.

The sheer catharsis at spitting into the redneck's eyes was such a thrill. There was a bit more of a daze from that last head shot, a little telltale sign that said she another hit really wasn't in her best interests. Still, she was eager to repay redneck now that she was down and distracted.

She went for the flash, coming in from the side with a spinning backfist, her clench fist aiming to smack into Phoboe from her left cheek and send her sprawling.

Phoebe was blinded by Ayami’s spit, the warm, sticky saliva rendering her completely incapable of seeing what was coming at her. She knew that she needed to regain her sight, and fast, since Ayami was still on her feet and was probably looking to pay her back. But if she didn’t even have the slightest idea of where Ayami was, then any sort of defense she put up could be quite easily circumvented.

Ayami’s next attack finally came, the back of the Japanese girl’s fist slamming into Phoebe’s cheek, flattening the cowgirl’s face for a second as it felt as if it nearly broke her jaw. She screamed, half in pain and half in anger, as her whole body lurched to the opposite side, her arms flailing in the air as she would fall hard on her back.

“F-fuck…goddamnit…I’m gonna…rrrnn…” Phoebe would growl, as she tried to turn herself over onto her front, while still pawing at her face—both the spat-in eyes and the wounded, bruised cheek—with one hand.

"Wimp. Loser. Coward. Bitch." Each word punctuated a number from the countdown. Each word was spat out with the black venom. "You're nothing." Ayami said, with a sneer on her face. If the redneck had been any more addled from the attack, Ayami would have went right down and kissed her, laying her claim on the texan bitch.

She rubbed her bruised left breast, and shook her head a little, all the while keeping her eyes on her downed foe. She had no doubt reddie was getting up, and she was gathering the energy to knock her the fuck back down.

Phoebe tasted blood in her mouth, and a flick of her tongue let her know that at least some of it was coming from a pretty badly busted lip. A small trickle of blood ran down her chin. Phoebe was now looking hardly any better for wear than Ayami was, and that frustrated the cowgirl to no end. Her opponent might have gotten in a lucky couple of punches there, but, damn it, Phoebe was still winning this fight. That’s what she told herself.

The count hit five, then six, and Phoebe realized she needed to hurry back up onto her feet. She couldn’t let Ayami spew all those names without paying for each and every one of them. Phoebe would take a deep breath, then push up off of the mat, practically launching herself back onto her feet. She would rock on her heels for a moment, then steady herself, before turning and glaring hatefully at Ayami. “Fuck you,” she would growl, before putting her fists up, ready to begin again.

"Readily," Ayami spat back with a fierce grin on her face. "Just wanted to inform you how well you've been doing, redneck. Keep up the good fuckin' work." She wanted to see her cry so bad. Beating her wasn't enough anymore, seeing her understand the full depths of her inferiority as she lay broken was the goal now. Victory was just the path now; humiliation was the goal.

Ayami brought her fists up in her pseudo-boxing stance. She took a deep breath, steadying her ringing head and her hurting chest, letting the pain return to the background until the end of the match. It was done soon, she told herself. The redneck couldn't take much more.

Once again, she took the initiative, moving forward to test Phoebe's defenses. She threw a left jab, ducked to the left, threw another one, then backtracked...before surging right forward with another underpunch to the gut. She wanted her abs. Ayami wanted to end this fight as the girl with a tummy which didn't look like purple bruised shit.

“You can shut your cheap fuckin’ face, you gutter slut,” Phoebe would growl, as Ayami would taunt her. Phoebe was quick to anger, and fighting a girl like Ayami was enough to make her blood boil with pure, white fury. Phoebe would take a breath and then advance on her foe, fists raised, ready to engage Ayami again and beat the Japanese girl to within an inch of her life for her insolence.

Ayami came at her fast. The girl threw a left jab, which Phoebe would absorb with her forearms. She would try to throw a retaliatory jab, but Ayami ducked to the left, and then she threw another couple of punches right at Phoebe. The cowgirl blocked the second jab, too, but the underhanded punch right to her gut was unavoidable. Phoebe gasped, air being forced from her lungs, as she doubled over forward.

Phoebe wasn’t going to let her opponent have her way, though. With a roar, Phoebe would surge forward, slamming her head into Ayami’s gut while peppering her sides with hard, wild hooks, trying to drive Ayami backwards!