Sam V Erin By chou-roninx

So it finally happened. After all the talk and the endless talk of the trash. A pretty professional boxer challenged a pair of lovely foxies to a friendly-ish bout of fisticuffs on her home turn. A challenge the aforementioned foxies gladly accepted in unison. Licking their lips,then each other's lips as well as some other lips *cough cough*.

Dull echoes filled the gym as the pro nearly worked a heavy bag into a pile of dust. The raucous din causing passers-by to stop in their tracks, and wondered what building was being taken down via wrecking ball while the enraged pro envisioned the taunting pair of foxies in front of her.

The twin foxes filled the air with giggles,  joking about having this one in the bag until a matriarch passed through the pair's gym. double checking the contract they had so brashly signed. Eyes scanning the wording of the document before trying to interject between the dulcet moans warming the gym.

"Sienna? Erin sweetie? Hun...did you look at this contract? It says here this is a pro match with typical rules and guidelines for such an event. That includes a dress code...?" Shelby Milanna saw two semi-shocked looks, and answered her own question.

“We have to do what now?" Erin’s gloves had ceased massaging Sienna’s nipples when word reached her ears.

"You're saying we have to wear......TOPS!?" Sienna’s moans morphed into a long groan. "The hell is that about? We fighting in one of those uptight ‘places’?"

A nonstop slew of complaints and protests followed in the days and weeks leading up to their contractual obligations. They didn’t desist even when one of them had to finally get in the ring! The beautiful specimens of foxydom known as Erin Milanna and Sienna Pyralis stood across from the strong and striking Samantha Armstrong. The power-punching brunette slamming her fists together as the duo complained about their tops. The sudden feeling of constriction paved the way for angsty discomfort and a sense of grief that the duo was inexperienced in as the gravity of the situation they had thrust themselves into in ways they didn't like to thrust.

"I can't believe you put us in this situation Sammi!" Erin felt all wrong as she looked down at the vecro-wrap gloves, and then that itchy top! It’s all so wrong!!!

"Fuck you Sammi! This is bullshit!" Sienna growled from behind Erin.

"C'mon Sammi! Can't we talk this over?" Black gloves hung on the top ropes in back of Erin as she stretched her arms while she leaned forward. “I feel… ok in my top. I mean look at my twins! Still though…”

"No kidding, it's so sad that we have to hide out in these tacky tops."

“I guess we're stuck in this situation, but we're going to make you pay for it Sammi!" Psyching herself up was her last hope. Erin knew a top shouldn’t make a difference, but damn that thing was itchy, and annoying, and stupid!

At most they were just words to help comfort themselves, but it wasn’t working. They both could not get beyond how constricted they felt in these tops, or "tops" as some would comment, but they both felt strangled by it. Like they both couldn't properly move or breathe with them on during their absolute favorite sport.

After a few labored sighs and more complaining, a coin flip decided that the brunette beauty that went by The So. Cal. Fox would face Samantha Armstrong first. The bell cut through the dull murmur of the crowd, and Sienna’s shrill bitching was brought to a halt as she pulled Erin’s in for a little peck on the lips. One wouldn't think it would be enough to include tongue, but those two

wanted to prove the doubters wrong. The friendly grope was quite standard fair where they came from.

"Just leave something for me to play with okay?" Sienna ruby lips formed a devilish smile as their mouths separated.

"Only if you promise I can snack on a piece of you afterwards." Erin’s wink caused Sam to roll her eyes so hard that many in the crowd looked around wondering if there was something wrong with the ceiling.

"I don't even know if this makes me want to punch them more or just harder..." Samantha muttered to herself.

Erin started the bout quickly, showing off her deft footwork and great technical prowess throughout the first two rounds. She used her longer reach to keep Sam's destructive fists at bay, and jogged off to complain about her top to her second during the breaks. Though Erin was landing more punches, the damage dealt was about even. The advantage in power and toughness going to the bigger Samantha. Though these facts were lost on Erin as she pulled and tugged at her top, readjusting it every chance she had as if she was trying on tops instead of trading leather with an undefeated women’s champion.

As the round count climbed, Sam was able to grind down the distracted girl's body until Erin had to actually focus on the pro that was trapping her against the ropes. The bigger fighter was blasting away with crushing lefts and rights watching the damage accumulate on her opponent’s face and around the beltline.

Midway through the 7th round, Erin was badly favoring her ribs as Sam's cannonball-like fists finally made her realize that there was a world champion boxer raining blows down on her as oppose to her dwindling punching output. Erin quickly tried to close in on Sam as her the punishment to her ribs and core made full extension of her arms a painful ordeal. Streaks of pain shot through her ribs,back, and legs every time as Erin tried to stubbornly stay at range.

Unfortunately for Erin, she walked directly into the fierce right hand known as the Sam Spike. A destructive blow that had a reputation for smashing ribs and damaging organs. Reputation or not, the punch knocked the wind from Erin's ample chest in one agonizing audible gasp.

Instinctively Erin's body knew of the dire trouble it was in, and tried to envelope Sam in the clinch it so badly needed - not one that she daydreamed about. The raven-haired woman gave her torso a fearsome twist, demonstrating the famous power she that reside in her hands by landed a catastrophic left/right? uppercut to Erin's cheek.

The red glove instantly dug into Erin's face, the brunette’s head twisted around as it appeared that Erin's neck wasn't doing much outside of keeping her head upon her shoulders. Erin's bloody mouthguard flew from her lips before the punch could follow through, and the sound reached back of the arena. The piece of plastic almost touched the bright lights above the fighters. A pair of blue eyes rolled into the back of her head, the buxom brunette was out on her feet as she listed forward.

That slender, trim body slowly crumpled down to the mat to land face down, ass up as the ref rushed in to call off the fight. The official waving her arms in the air as Sienna flew through the ropes to her friend. Sam just leaned back against the ropes and raised her fists into the air to the roar of the crowd as they stood to applaud the devastation that they had just witnessed.

Sam looked over at Erin and cracked a smile. “Even if you weren’t so worried about your top, you still would have wound up on your bottom..”

Samantha Armstrong: 35-0-0, 35 KO’s