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TONIGHT’S BOUT
Sylvia Vs. Monica
Name: Sylvia Name:Monica
Derby Name: June Cleave Her Derby Name: Angel A. Grace
200lbs 196lbs
5’10” 5′ 5″
B:36H B:34DD
W:28 W:26
H:38 H:40
A lifelong fan but a Rookie player. Captain and Pivot of the Salty-Ass Bitches
Monica was angry.
Typically her anger was reserved for the women on the other team, but tonight was different. Tonight, a rookie was getting too big for her britches.
That fucking bitch had practically stollen the star decal on her helmet. The star that you have to wear to score points on the track. The Star’s star…and won the fucking game.
Morgan had put blood, sweat, and tears into her role as captain and pivot. And she would be fucking damned if she let some busty waif outshine her. She had demanded that June ‘Cleave Her’ aka Sylvia meet her in the locker room immediately, but Morgan had gotten out of the shower and was still waiting. Waiting in the locker room for the bitch to stop signing t-shirts and programs and get her novice ass in here.
Then, finally…
“Sorry, sorry! Didn’t mean to keep you waiting. There was this little girl out there dressed as me and I just had to-
“Shut up.” Monica said, cutting through the excitement Sylvia had brought with her mere moments ago. “Get your shit. You’re off the team.”
Sylvia froze. How she could go from being on cloud nine to bewildered heartbreak in less than a second was beyond her. Reality was crashing down around her. She looked around at her remaining teammates who were more interested in something on the locker room floor.
“But…but…I won the game for us.” Sylvia felt the tears well up behind her eyes but refused to let them fall in front of Monica.
“You disobeyed my order. You put the whole team at risk of -“
“Come on, Monica,” a voice said from behind Sylvia. It was Jenni, aka Busty Keton, their number one blocker. “She took a chance and it paid off. Give her a break.”
Monica was the shortest member of the team, easily. Most of Sylvias had at least four inches on her. Jenni was a giant at 6’1″. But when Monica locked her eyes on Jenni, the blocker went silent.
“Jenni, come here.” Monica said coolly.
It was as if she were a witch. Without a word, Jenni walked past Sylvia and stood before Monica. Jenni, Busty Keton, a brute on the track, but a puppy dog behind the scenes, paled before the captain.
“Strip.” Monica said.
Not a word was uttered by the rest of the team and yet their surprise was deafening. But the silence was also telling. Very telling. In that moment, the image of The Salty-Ass Bitches that she’d always had in her head melted away.
To her surprise, Jenni began to strip.
“Jenni,” Sylvia said. “Jenni, it’s okay, you don’t have to-“
Monica’s eyes darted to her.
“What siirt escort was that? Did you say something?”
Sylvia felt it begin to build. The heat. The same heat that vibrated in the pit of her stomach when she was on the track, letting her elbows fly. Her mother had told her that girls didn’t feel things like that. That rage and violence was reserved for the men. It was that very idea that sealed her fate. That made her want to become a derby girl.
But it had no place here. Not against her captain.
Watch yourself, she thought. You’ve been waiting for this moment since you were little. Take a breath and-
“Look everyone.”
Sylvia snapped out of her daze.
“Leave her alone,” Sylvia said.
“What?” Monica asked, her eyes betraying the shock of the command.
Sylvia went to her locker and began to undress, almost like nothing was out of the ordinary. As she undressed she began to talk.
“You are a fucking bully. Because you’re short? Because you have anger problems? Why?”
“What the fuck are you-“
“It’s sad, really.” Sylvia was fully naked now, her pale, tattooed skin glistening with sweat. “Leading a team through fear. That is the kind of shit a coward does.”
Monica flew at Sylvia. She bounded off of the bench and her hands went straight for her thin white neck. As she gripped it, Sylvia grabbed at Monica’s long messy hair and jerked it downward. For a moment, the two were locked that way in silence, neither one able to make a sound as they staggered around the humid locker room. The rest of the team stood in silence, knowing that to break them up would fly in the face of the unspoken rule; fight it out.
In the struggle Monica’s towel came undone and fell to the floor revealing her large breasts, her pierced nipples erect.
Sylvia slipped a foot back and pushed off of the wall forcing her to slam into Monica, sending them both down onto a bench against the wall. Their bodies slick with sweat, slapped into each other, their breasts pressed together, their legs locking.
Monica tightened her grip around Sylvia’s throat, her nails digging into her soft ivory flesh. In return, Sylvia jerked Monica’s hair back, banging her head into a row of lockers. Fire burned in the newbie’s eyes and Monica realized that the little bitch wouldn’t go down easy.
Again Sylvia slammed her head into the wall, harder this time and Monica knew she would have to change tactics if she was going to stay conscious. She released Sylvia’s throat and plunged her hands into her thick red hair.
“You like pulling hair, you fucking bitch?” Monica hissed, jerking Sylvia’s head back
“Could do it all. Fucking. Day!” Sylvia said, jerking Monica’s head rougher with every word. Monica could feel strands of hair being ripped from her head. The bitch is going to scalp you. Rip her fucking eyes out!
Monica silifke escort released Sylvia’s hair and sent a hard slap across her cheek leaving a red handprint that contrasted with the snow white skin. Sylvia struck out with her own slap across Monica’s face. The traded blows back and forth, each slap brought new fire to Monica’s cheeks, stocking her rage. She pressed her foot against the lockers and pushed off, taking them both to the floor, the grip on her hair finally loose.
Monica pinned Sylvia’s arms to the floor as she writhed beneath her sweaty body: breast to breast, pussy to pussy, legs entwined.
“Who the fuck do you think you are?” Monica hissed in her face, nearly nose to nose.
“I’m the next captain, bitch.” Sylvia said.
Monica grabbed Sylvia’s hair again and slammed it into the tile floor.
The other members of The Salty Witches hissed at the sound. Things were getting out of hand, but if they interfered…
Sylvia shot a claw into Monica’s face and began scratching at her eyes.
“Auuugh you fucking cunt!” Monica released the other hand and the two women dug their claws into the other’s face, their hissed words growing increasingly louder and harsher;
“You fucking bitch!”
“Fucking Slag!
Sylvia managed to roll Monica over. Their sweat stung the thin red lines down their faces. Sylvia pressed a knee into Monica’s crotch and pressed her breasts into Monica’s face, squeezing them together with her arms.
“You fucking done,bitch?” Sylvia shouted, feeling the violence course through her veins. This was what Roller Derby was all about! This was what she had always wanted. This-
“Get the fuck off of me,” Monica hissed, sensing a danger building Sylvia that might lead to more than a catfight in a sauna. “I swear to god if you don’t get off of me–“
“You’ll what?” Sylvia asked, leaning down face to face with her. Now their noses were touching. “Just what will you do?”
Her heat…her scent.
Monica shook the thought away and drove her knee into Sylvia’s side. Sylvia winced. The blow was just enough for Monica’s left hand to slip free. She shot it up and grabbed Sylvia’s large right breast. She sank her nails into the areola and pressed upward.
“AAAAGH!” Sylvia shrieked, her eyes rolling back in her head. Monica had found a tender spot it seemed.
She tore her right hand away and went for Sylvia’s left breast. Both nipples in her grasp, she slammed her tits together and up. Sylvia moaned as she tried to wretch Monica’s hands free from her chest. Monica smiled at how helpless the bitch was now; tears pouring from her eyes, her pale skin glistening with sweat, her bright red tuft of hair above her cunt like a burning bush.
“Fucking whore!” Sylvia screamed as she grabbed both of Monica’s tits and mashed down on them, her thumbs silivre escort pressing on her piercings. Monica shrieked as the pain shot through her body. The pressure on her nipples was excruciating. She jerked Sylvia’s breasts down hard and then slammed them back up into her chest, kneading them violently with her nails and knuckles.
“Sad wannabe.” Monica hissed back and this time, almost against her will, thrust back. Both women squeezed the other’s breasts harder.
“Dirty fucking whore”
Sylvia’s face was closer to Monica’s now and Monica’s back arched, her slender neck creating an arch between her shoulders and head.
Then Sylvia bit Monica’s lip. Hard. She tugged on it with her teeth, pulling a groan from Monica that was more from pleasure than pain. Monica began thrusting her hips harder and faster. Sylvia’s teeth sank deeper into her lip, her hands twisted Monica’s tits even harder
Are you going to let her do this to you? Are your really going to let her–
“Fuck you, bitch.” Monica hissed through clenched teeth. She released Sylvia’s tits and grabbed her long red hair. She jerked her to one side, feeling her teeth scrape off her lips, drawing blood. Sylvia hit the ground hard, jerking Monica’s tits along with her. Monica clinched her teeth, bearing the pain as she rolled on top of Sylvia, smashing her body into hers.
“Do you fucking give up, you bitch? Huh?”
Sylvia spat in her face.
“Eat shit, cunt.”
Monica smiled, the fresh saliva dripping off of the end of her nose.
“Let go of my tits, and I won’t break your fucking face.”
For a moment, Sylvia simply stared at her, her ragged breathing filling the silence of the locker room. Then she gave Monica’s breasts a violent twist.
Monica pulled her head back and then smashed her forehead into Sylvia’s nose.
Gasps from the rest of the team. Jenni, the gentle giant, covered her mouth and closed her eyes.
Blood gushed from Sylvia’s broken nose.
And Monica headbutted her again.
Sylvia’s hands went limp, releasing Monica’s tits. Monica gasped, the fire in her soft skin finally subsiding. She watched Sylvia’s eyes flicker in and out, the red river running down her chest and between her tits.
“Do you fucking give? Are you fucking done, rookie?”
Sylvia’s mouth fluttered between open and closed.
“What was that? What was that? Huh?”
“..g…ive…”
Monica spat in her face and stood up.
“Alright. Any more questions about our plays? Hmm?”
The team didn’t speak. It wasn’t the first time they had seen their captain put a newbie in their place. But never had it been so brutal…so primal. It was clear that June Cleave-Her had threatened her in some way.
“Well?”
“No,” they all said. They turned to their lockers and finished loading out. One by one they began to leave. Monica dressed, slowly and gently. Sylvia just laid on the floor, bleeding. Her eyes were wide open, staring at the ceiling. Monica walked past her but stopped at the door.
“Be sure to clean up before you leave. That’s the rookie’s responsibility.”
Then she turned off the lights and walked out, leaving the rookie in a heap on the floor.
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