Margaux Lefeuvre vs. Sabrina Anderson - Hellhounds

Sabrina smelled nice.

Not in the way others would think - that softer, more feeble minds would believe. Absent was a tinge of perfume and the rosy air of delicate femininity in which more precious contenders preferred to cloak their delicate bodies. This was not an innocent woman. She smelled of blood and battle, triumph and defeat; the stains of the most sinful aspects of the world had left their mark on her.

Margaux knew the scent well. It was a pleasant surprise when she drew near and rested her chin on the woman’s shoulder, wafting past her nose and invigorating her senes like an uncorked Pierre Gimonnet et Fils. Her blood curled and warmed beneath the skin. And it would be a bold lie to say she wasn’t growing rather warm between the legs. A roving tongue wetted her pink lips from corner to corner.

Then she heard a clap. Her body felt the shockwave before the pain, a rippling torrent of force shooting through her body in the blink of an eye. The Frenchwoman’s lurched forward with eyes wide, spittle expelling from her mouth in a thick mist beneath the heavy stage lights. She leaned weakly against Sabrina, breathing deeply in and out in a seemingly disheveled state. Her vision blurred behind her distant gaze, peering off to the audience as she rested her chin on her opponent’s shoulder. For a moment, Margaux did little but submit herself to the damage the blonde had inflicted, little more than a fish dead in the water...or so it seemed. In the next instant, her eyes trailed over to Sabrina in a sidelong fashion, slowly lifting her head and bringing her lips close to the woman’s ear, canting her head as she let out a deathly whisper.

“Weak…”

The Frenchwoman’s jaws spread wide before she lunged forward like a viper. Her fangs dug into the woman’s neck and clamped deep into the strong, exposed flesh. As her feral mandiables sunk deep, her right fist would clutch tightly inside of her glove, flaring the muscles along her arm. Her other arm tucked the woman closer before she fired off a barrage of strikes into Sabrina’s side.

Was she... was she sniffing her? Okay, this was pretty new... Like, weird new. Usually when you were this close, you’d be either struggling to get loose, abuse the position, or maybe get a little frisky. This chick was just looking like she was getting her rocks kicked off by just being near her. Sure, she fought some freaks in the ring before, but this chick? She was... just different. Seriously, she was supposed to be the dog here, but this chick was just off the hook.

Muscles tense, her body practically roaring with adrenaline, fire burning within her muscles, she was ready to continue slugging her opponent who seemed winded by a simple blow to the gut. ”You’re one weird chick, you know that, right? Are you even taking this seriously cause you were looking at me with some smug look in your eye the second this started, so why don’t you just throw up your dukes already and stop playing...” Sabrina has to keep herself from staring too long, because the second she had really assumed Margaux had finally gone to something of punchdrunk, she managed to catch a good glimpse of her eyes... Just casually trailing right onto her and staring, almost lazily really, before finally revealing a little tidbit of information, and something she certainly hadn’t expected.

This chick could really play dirty...

Before Sabrina could even make some attempt or figure out what her opponent had planned, bare canniness sank into her neck and clamped down. Hard.

”GAH! You motherfucking, cunt sucking piece of shit, whore!”

Sabrina stood her ground well though. Boots squeaking across the ring canvas as she held Margaux still in someway, the woman’s teeth digging into her flesh and clearly past the skin as she snarled, something akin to a wild dog even as her opponent pulled her in close. Her muscles flared in annoyance as a barrage of strikes dug straight into her side, her muscles tensing at every blow.

”GET THE FUCK OFF OF ME!”

Without even the slightest bits of hesitation, Sabrina did whatever she could do to repay her opponent and, hopefully, remove her as well. As her opponent continued to strike away, Sabrina lunged forth and made to sink her teeth straight for Margaux’s exposed neck as well, repeating the same motion without so much as a pause, shaking her head all the while like something akin to a rabid dog trying to shake apart a snake. With one arm still free and in motion, the Rabid Dog attempted to dig as many blows into her opponent’s sides, or whatever she could get her gloves on. She was gonna get this bitch off and it was gonna be hell for Margaux when she broke free...

Margaux did not get off her.

If anything, the resistance she was showing made her all the more eager to keep her fangs dug in right where they were. She didn’t want to let go. She wanted lovely red to seep from beneath her lips, to run down the woman’s shoulder and coat the woman’s arm like a sleeve. She wanted to see her drip her essence across the entire ring and stain every inch of it with the refuse of her life.

Sabrina failed to derive quite the same amount of joy from that thought. Her resistance wasn’t unexpected, but Margaux found herself somewhat ill-prepared. Her blows landed harder than before, this time there was intent, desperation, malice. Each strike that dug its way into the Frenchwoman’s rib cage was filled to the brim with indefatigable purpose and killer intent. A caught animal attempting to slash its way free, scratching and clawing at anything that moved. Margaux held on all the same. The gesture was as amusing, to say the least.

But that wasn’t all the American did. Even Margaux found her eyes widening in surprise at the boldness her opponent put on display. She growled full of arousal as she felt Sabrina’s fangs sink into her, the pain liquefying into an intoxicating stimulant that warmed her skin, touched the spot between her legs.

Margaux used the newfound energy to strike back against her opponent, unwilling to go quietly as she dug her own set of blows into the woman’s ribcage. Over and over, faster and faster. Her heart pumped madly inside of her chest, warm fire engulfed her and roused her alive. That force drove her forward, pushing Sabrina backward as she attempted to pin the shorter woman up against the corner to exploit her to her heart’s content.

If Sabrina played close enough attention to the murmurs, to the vibrations that traveled through her skin and the pitch that emanated from between Margaux’s lips, she would be able to tell that the Frenchwoman was enjoying herself. That she wasn’t just breathing, she was laughing.

No matter what she did this chick wasn’t letting go! Sabrina wasn’t a stranger to any unordinary tactics in a fight, considering she tended to spit in people’s eyes and strike at their groins without mercy, but this was still a new one. Still, even despite the feeling of this woman’s sharp canines digging into her skin, she hardly faltered once. Her boots digging into the canvas floor as her muscles became tense and firm, flaring off to signal the pain that traveled through her neck.

A rich red liquid slipped from her skin after Margaux’s puncture and the French woman would find the satisfying taste of a certain rabid dog’s blood. Mostly staining the woman’s teeth to downright beginning to pour across her shoulder, Sabrina could feel it drip across her chest and coat her arm in her own life essence.

Sabrina only continued to snark as she hammered every blow, every strike, every stray glove into Margaux’s ribcage without so much as a pause or the slightest hint of hesitance. She wanted to put her down and pummel her into the canvas until she was nothing more than a stain. Why. Wouldn’t. She. Let. Go?!

Even as she listened to her opponent growl the moment she had dug her own fangs into her opponent, Sabrina merely clamped down harder to draw forth the rich liquid from her opponent’s body in an effort to repay her for what she had done to him as well. If she had the time, she would have more than likely made for an attempt to satiate the lust and arousal that was growing more hot and bothered as time passed on. Christ, she had issues...

She tightened the grip upon Margaux’s skin as her teeth clamped down upon the blows striking and battering away at her ribcage. Skin rippling beneath the French woman’s punches as she held on for dear life and only served to hammer blows right back at Margaux’s ribs. She just needed a good opening to work with and she was good..l

Boots skidding across the canvas floor, Sabrina was hard to push back shown by the muscles within her legs tended beyond belief as she remained stalwart. However, eventually, even Sabrina would find herself being pressed into the corner of the ring. Eyes wide with surprise, she already knew how bad this was...

Surprisingly enough, Sabrina managed to actually understand just what that sensation was upon her neck from Margaux’s teeth. It wasn’t the struggling or just the bite, nope, it was fucking laughter. This chick was enjoying this?!

Eh, couldn’t blame her, but she was going to fuck her up all the same.

Alright, this was going a little far for Sachiko.

This may have been an underground match, the Momentum equivalent of some of the hardcore flavor Tension and Friction seemed a bit more willing to offer, but this was still an organization with rules to uphold. Knowing when enough was enough was - for the most part, at least - at the core of how things stayed afloat here. If someone got hurt and she did nothing to stop it, it could cost her her job.

Yeah, like hell. Not on the back of these freaks.

“Alright, quit it.” Sachiko stepped forward, raising her hands to try and get between them. “You two need to-” A spurt of blood came out from the flesh of Margaux’s shoulder stuck between Sabrina’s fangs, splattering the referee right on the side of the cheek.

“Jesus!” She jumped back, turning on the spot and swatting her hands about in the air like as if trying to protect her face from a swarm of flies. “Fucking psychos!”

Margaux hadn’t paid any attention to what was going on. Her bloodshot gaze lingered on the blood, on the frustration and bitter anger that rolled over her tongue. She loved the smell of her sweat against the heinous wrath pouring out with every frustrated breath the blonde let out against her neck. Every other moment, she’d wince in pain as the American’s fangs dug an inch closer into the skin. The Frenchwoman loved it. She loved this smaller, powerful body against her, she loved that it could destroy her at a moment’s notice, and she loved that she’d rendered it almost docile against her own strength and fangs.

All she needed was a little more to rip and tear. A few more digs into the blonde’s stomach. Then her ribs would give. Then she’d scream. Then Margaux would laugh. And then-

“Back up!” The referee suddenly shoved herself between them, peeling Sabrina away with one arm while pushing at Margaux’s head with the other.

“Levefuvre, three full steps back! Anderson, two steps forward!”

Margaux parted her guard, raising her gloves into the air innocently with a guiltless smile as she made the two steps back. The official looked between them as they readjusted, visibly over all of this shit as she reluctantly raised her hand. A couple more seconds passed before she was satisfied, throwing her hand down and stepping back before hell broke loose again.

Margaux was slow to follow up this time around. She didn’t seem to possess the same eagerness and barbaric offense that she’d been charging forward with only a moment ago. Her guard came up slow, her eyes stayed to Sabrina’s. Her mismatched pair danced against the rare purple of her adversary. She came in slow, purposeful...

...and promptly spit in Sabrina’s face. Her aim was for the eyes, a smokescreen for the wild right hook to the cheek that would follow straight after.

Christ, how much were they going when it came to sinking their teeth into one another? Sabrina continued driving blow after blow into her taller opponent’s ribs without so much as a pause, even when her bare neck met the corner. Her teeth had sunken in deep and she maintained an incredibly firm grip upon her opponent, but this fucking French poodle had the same one... She could already feel blood spurting from her own, but she was so wrapped in physically abusing her opponent and gnawing like some mangy fucking dog that she was unable to really hear, or give a shit, for this chick coming in to separate the two of them.

She remembered someone who did that in the Underground.

Poor bastard lost a lot of teeth...

God, she just wanted to break free and start ripping and tearing her opponent’s beautiful face apart. She was... honestly, beautiful, but in a real crazy sense judging by this chick already being way more different in the ring compared to what she initially thought of before. Chick may have had riches, but she hardly acted all so naughty or even prim and proper now. No, she fought like a wild animal, another dog, and a part of her respected that. Not enough to not knock her face into the canvas and fill it up with her blood, but enough for some respect.

Just some though cause SHE WAS STILL BITING HER! LET GO YOU FUCKING...

Oh, wait, they were finally getting separated. Sabrina may have not been so compliant to the referee who stepped between them and began to peel them away from one another. Acting like a real stray mutt, she dragged those sharp canines of hers across her opponent’s neck even as they were pulled away and finally had some breathing room yet again. Blood was already pouring down the wound upon Sabrina’s neck, a rather disgusting thing really, but the black streaked blonde hardly looked all that bothered other than incredibly annoyed.

God, she wanted to punch that little guiltless smile of hers away and enjoy watching her squirm when she finally got past that masochistic bit. Listening to the referee, giving the woman a simple nod, she took two steps forward and brought up her gloves to keep on the defensive. Her opponent was a real sucker punch type of person, so was she just gonna roll with something again or go strategy?

With the referee bringing her hand down and allowing their match to resume, Sabrina made sure her hands were kept up in a pretty basic defense. Keeping that chin guarded and her chest protected, she looked at Margaux’s slow approach and made her own way towards the slightly taller woman. She saw her opponent suddenly make a quick motion and... spat right at her face?! Sabrina cinched slightly and tilted her head a little, mostly having to detail with the saliva slapping upon her nose and cheeks more than anything else, but it was still enough for her to get a good block in...

Bringing up her left arm, nearly missing, she managed to deflect the brunt of the blow into her forearm with a snarl. Hoping to retaliate just as quickly, Sabrina attempted to smash a right uppercut aimed beneath her opponent’s chest, aimed straight for that nice bustling of hers and hoping to give her some real pain...

Blood and injury were part and parcel of the vast majority of Margaux’s matches, in more ways than one. The red sleeve shrouding her shoulder and slowly enveloping her upper arm summarized it all rather well. There was nothing pretty about how she fought, about the lifestyle she relished or the jagged tooth marks that marred her perfect skin. This was simply what she enjoyed most. It was what made her feel alive and the world feel all the more real.

But then there were other uses for blood. Uses that required a bit of...ingenuity and an ill-mannered moral compass. Her opponent would be the first to witness its vile application. A stumble, a cry, then the darkness accompanied by blithe laughter as her strikes crumbled body and soul.

Typically, that was how developments went.

Sabrina, as she was quickly coming to understand, was a very different breed. One bred for combat, molded for violence, thriving in the same muck and mire that founded Margaux’s ascension. There was little more than a flinch as the flying streak blood and saliva stained just beneath her eye. She peered past the distraction and managed to see the blow coming, forming an adequate guard that deflected most of the force.

Margaux’s eyes widened slightly in surprise. It had been so long since someone had seen through her so cleanly, so clearly, that she was forced to acknowledge the plausible threat staring her down. A tinge of excitement sent a jolt through her nerves. That moment of hesitation cost her. By the time her eyes though to peer towards Sabrina’s right glove, it was already mid-flight, cutting a deadly arc in the space between them before it smashed the Frenchwoman’s generous bust from underneath.

The crashing force lifted her from her feet for a split second, sending the pinkette stumbling back on her heels before she could regain her footing. She clasped her arms together and kept them low behind a conventional guard. Her breathing was ragged and the center of chest of stabbed in pain with each breath. Further damage to that area would not spell an especially worthy end for her. Nevertheless, she kept her posture strong and stood tall…

...with a thin smile closer to the surface.

What did people expect from the Underground? What did they expect when they stepped into the streets? The rings? The warehouses? The first rule was that there were no rules... There wasn’t nothing stopped an opponent from smashing your skull into the brick walls. There wasn’t a rule from stopping you from punting a guy or gal in the groin, Sabrina hardly held back on that account, and there wasn’t a single time that she would. Would that mean she was actually resistant to those tactics?

Of course.

Who didn’t spit or throw something into your eyes? Pocket sand? Been there, are there and endured they pain before someone sucker punched her... A blow to the kidney, a knee to the gut in the beginning and more. She had to give credit where credit was due though... This chick, this Margaux lady, she was...

She was like her.

Even as blood practically coated this French poodle’s arm, she saw what was there. This lady acted all snobby, refined and more, but there was way more to it than that. She was just like her... She fought like an animal. Her style was good, but there wasn’t anything special. She was just a damn brutal fighter, and Sabrina?

Sabrina found she could fucking respect that.

She could see how her sexy French Poodle hesitated... She looked surprised, but that was her fault, not the black streaked blonde’s. Sabrina grinned an almost feral grin, akin to a hound no less, as she smashed her glove just beneath her opponent’s own generous front bumpers. Striking with a good amount of ‘oomph’,she watched as Margaux as was sent stumbling back upon her heels. It was time to pursue and start tearing this bitch apart, but man this was enjoying, even as blood poured down her chest from the wound around her neck. This was so fucking good.

She already knew what to target, but she couldn’t make another shot like that. Her opponent wasn’t some fucking dumbass, so she just needed to REALLY rock her fucking skull with a good enough punch. Sabrina, seeing that her opponent was still strong and tall, she lunged forth and made for a strong left hook aimed for Margaux’s cheek...

Except it was a feint! She tried hammering out a brutal right haymaker aimed for the dead center of her opponent’s face!

It was an interesting, unique feeling to suddenly realize that you were no longer the smartest individual in the room. Or ring, per say.

Sabrina’s appearance did little to convey her knack for the finer points of battle. Margaux had taken her for the tens of thousands of inept bruisers she’d crushed with nary a second thought to make it to this very spot. This would be no different, surely. Sabrina was interesting, but what could she expect from a woman who’d stepped into a ring forgetting her top.

Quite a bit more than the mobster planned for, it seemed.

Sabrina didn’t halt in her chance to press the advantage. She hadn’t dodged that spittle of blood on a whim or gut reaction. She saw through it and was already moving on to the next step, completely in control of her body, where Margaux could only sit and deal with the pain that still wracked her chest from the previous blow. Fate was bearing down on her.

Watch. Prepare. Margaux’s mismatched eyes followed the blonde’s impressive muscles along one end of her body. Her footwork, the direction in her torso led. The Frenchwoman should have noticed how obvious it was, but her blood and her body didn’t care. Danger was bearing down as Sabrina came in with a roaring left hook. Margaux brought one arm went high to guard the blow and the other was close behind to reinforce it…

...she saw the feint too late. The subtle twist of her shoulders gave away what was coming next, but there was little that the Frenchwoman could do to stop it. The straight nailed her right in the center of her face. Her head snapped back with a violent whip of her two-tone locks into the air. She stumbled back two steps before her back foot slammed down behind her. She stabilized herself on one shaky knee and another that was in little better shape. Her head weightless and full of air, ringing in her ears shook her skull to the core. One nostril flared red and ran red with a flowing, crimson stain down to her lip.

Her teeth clenched in desperate frustration as she clenched her hand tight into a fist before she pushed forward and fired a retaliatory left straight of her own, straight to Sabrina’s bare breast.

Her opponent wasn’t entirely wrong about her first assumption. Sabrina was indeed a brutal individual who would soon use power over strategy, but that was only half of what she was. Training under a veteran only made sense that she would have some cunning beaten into her... Just because she didn’t wear a top didn’t mean she was a stupid fucking idiot like most people might assume. Sure, she wasn’t as intelligent or as smart as most veteran athletes, but she was more than capable of slugging it out with those using nothing more than her strength, resilience as well as a love for going for the most dirtiest of blows!

She was a rabid dog after all.

Once she had already started on her barrage, she intended follow through all the way. The second she had seen through one of the oldest tricks in the book was when she was at her most reactive times. Having already rushed in to press the advantage upon her beautiful little French poodle of an opponent. She didn’t always throw out feints, but when she did, it was surprising to most opponents considering her own nature or how fucked adrenaline pushed you.

Watching Margaux’s face snap back, violently so, had Sabrina grinning akin to a feral dog. The voracious and wild nature she had as she watched her French opponent stumble back two steps before steadying herself upon the canvas floor. Now that she had a few moments to glance, she was honestly surprised that someone like her came from the same setting as herself.

Girl felt way too fancy, but beneath that fancy smancy little exterior was a girl just as fucked up, maybe even more than she was. The girl’s legs were shaking slightly and she got a bloody nose outta it... Nice touch on her really. Almost hot even.

Yet once more, Sabrina charged forth to meet her opponent head on in order to take the battle straight to her! As the two rushed forth, Sabrina wound up her right arm and slung it forth from below, attempting to smash an uppercut, more akin to a sledgehammer, straight beneath Margaux’s generous bosom! In return though, Sabrina had to endure her French opponent slamming a retaliatory strike back at her bare tit!

Getting hit in the tit wouldn’t ever really hurt when compared to some poor fuck’s balls, but Sabrina has a rather generous bust. Not to mention that the shit still hurt, but it wouldn’t ever compare to the more fearsome and powerful blows she had endured before. Grinning an almost feral grin yet again as her opponent, enduring the pain, she decided to taunt her opponent a bit.

”Ya call that a hit, really? C’mon, French Poodle, if you’re really like me then you better fucking show something. Still, this is pretty fucking fun!” She was enjoying this, but it didn’t matter... Her opponent was strong and she was going to give it her all.