Girls Fight Club

[🎶 Dangerous – Michael Jackson.]

"THERE'S A MATCH TOMORROW NIGHT at the city. You should come." Giselle said to Rafel as he hopped down the back of her white Griffin. The Queen had offered to give him a ride from Nokmaar back to Emberfall, and Rafel was delighted for another long windy flight through the blue Eldorian skies.

"What kind of match?" Rafel narrowed his eyes at her. He didn't trust the glint in her golden pupils.

"A Cage Match."

"Boxing?" Rafel coughed.

"Female kickboxing to be exact!" Giselle leaned in from her black fitted saddle on the Griffin's back. The movement made her scarlet riding pants ride up her waist and Rafel got a very good glimpse of beautiful ass crack. "It's underground. Exclusive to the truly sick at heart. Those with fucked up minds. A dirty dueling, fighting to the point of nakedness. And whole lotta bloody! Right up your alley. It's the kind of fun we don't talk about in Ball rooms or Court domains. This is street talk. Top tier depravity—and I've got us VIP tickets."

Giselle smiled, a darkness entering her eyes. It reminded Rafel of her look in the battle of Frostholm.

"Shit." He shrugged. "I'm in. You placed bets already?"

"Nope," Giselle replied. "The current Belt-holder is a savage crocodile hybrid. The woman is built like a fucking dinosaur. There's no challenger, yet. So all bets are open."

Rafel patted the soft silver feathers on the Griffin's neck. "What happens if no one challenges?"

Giselle put her hand on his. There was that smile again. "Then the underground overlords would flood the cage with as many chickens as they can find. Either way, we get our bloodbath. And they draw in bank. Everyone leaves happily."

Rafel fell silent a moment, his quick mind thinking. Giselle was right. Kickboxing was right up his alley. And women too? Damn! He was so in. Nothing stirred his cock harder than witnessing girls in tight spandex ripping at each other and delivering knockout punches. He didn't think the mortal realm had the capacity to indulge, or even enjoy such hellish delights.

This was good.

But for the issue at hand now. He needed a Challenger?

The Croc woman Giselle spoke about had to be some serious fucking bitch for no one to stand up to her. He wondered how many she had killed to claim the belt of such infamous Underground fight club. Her hybrid nature surely helped her. But Rafel didn't want to go watch them throw helpless 'chickens' at her, no less than he liked facing off Hellbabies in the arena. He needed the real deal.

Chickens in street slang represented all the motherfuckers who owed the gang overlords and thus, were slaved away into fights they'd certainly die in. Like this one. Their debts payed in their death. But it was the big fights that Rafel lived for.

Boss bitch vs Boss bitch, clashing in blood and ruthless rage!

Showmanship drew the crowds, and Rafel got that the overlords would throw in the chickens as long as it satiated the bloodthirsty patrons. But not him. To Rafel, there was no honor in pairing off a tiger with a rodent. All bets were off, as the winner was already certified.

But a tiger with a bull? Now, that was a fight worth watching.

Giselle mentioned it was still twenty fours to find a Challenger. Someone equally violent and deadly, with no qualms whatsoever about busting some teeth. Someone worthy. Rafel smiled in that instant, inspiration hitting him like a kiss from Lilith.

He had just the perfect opponent for the reptilian kickboxer, and she lived right in his house.

The Eldorian Queen caught on the Earl's rugged smile. "What are you thinking?" Giselle quipped. "Do you have someone in mind?"

"Uh-huh..." Rafel said, grinning in sinister delight. He began to describe his Challenger, his eyes glowing as he already saw the terror a clash of the two would unleash upon the underground world of illegal fighting. "Tall. Blue eyes. Slender. Introvertive—"

He didn't need to finish.

"The Tomboy?" Giselle raised her eyebrows.

Rafel nodded.

"Good choice," she added, picking up the gilded reins on her white Griffin. Neither Rafel nor Giselle said anything else. But he smiled, and she smiled back. "See you tomorrow night, Your Grace!"

The Queen blinked once at him. And then she ascended into the sky. Flapping white wings blew cool forest wind all over Rafel, his trenchcoat whipping in the gale as he stared up until the lovely form of Giselle was melding beautifully into the big blue skies.

"See you too." He turned for the Manor.

"So, what do you think?" Rafel said to Cora fifteen minutes later in the grand space of the living room, adjacent his chambers. He stared lovingly at her, and she had her eyes lowered, the blue in them obscured from his gaze.

She stood an angel in his presence. Before him. Tall. Blue eyed. Slender. Reserved. His Challenger. The one who would pluck the belt off the waist of the Croc woman and end her long-running reign of underground kickboxing.

But Rafel understood Cora was still mortal. He was giving her a choice.

"Oh, Corazón," he stood up from his sofa to walk to her. Placing both hands on her arms, he rubbed tenderly, the sincerity in his eyes stark. "You don't have to do this. I would never put you in harm's way. You could stay by my side and we could just watch. Either way, I'm fine—"

"It's not that, my Lord." Cora's sudden quiet voice interrupted Rafel. "It's not that at all. Infact, it is opposite that."

She lifted her eyes then to his. And Rafel gaped in awe. Her big blues were shining. She looked like a kid with a popsicle. Her stare was so bright it was almost crazy. A maniacal light that filled her as she began to excitedly purr,

"I would LOVE to fight for you, Your Grace, in this Cage Match. I am honored that you thought of me to be your Challenger. I promise I will bring the head of this reptilian bitch. I'm so happy right now. This is like...one of my life's goals! Her Eminence would gift me a boon for doing this. Not to mention the sheer pleasure I'd derive from seeing you watch me fight. Can I kiss you, my Lord. Fuck! Please, can I kiss you?"

Rafel was just nodding his reply when Cora dived into his arms, clutching his shirt in her fingers and taking his mouth. Rafel let her in and her tongue swept into his mouth. Cora licked dreamily at his lips, and he held to her small waist. When she pulled away, her cheeks were pink and the horn-rimmed glasses spotting her eyes were up her forehead.

She adjusted the spectacles on her face.

"Thank you, Your Grace for this. I would offer right now to go on my knees and—"

"That won't be necessary, Corazón." Rafel grinned, pleased at her hot nerdy look.

"In this fight, is anything off the table, my Lord?" Cora asked.

"No rules, love. No rules," came Rafel's baritone. "You will need an alias."

"I already have one," the sexy witch replied. "VIPERA!"

Rafel rolled around the word in his head. And then smiled. "You're not new to this, huh, Corazón? Vipera! I like it." He cupped her bespectacled face in both his large palms, looking right through the lens into her ocean eyes. "You are perfect, Corazón. Just perfect."

Cora was feeling all sorts of things under the smouldering fire of Rafel's gaze. Prime of all, was pride. She would not disappoint His Grace. Even if the last match with Bloody Mary had nearly cost her her life. This was going to be different.

Now, Cora had something to live for.

Fuck that Croc bitch!

Rafel smiled into the eyes of his Challenger, unaware of her own thoughts. For the ruddy Earl did not know that once Corazón Mortimer was the great Vipera, legendary kickboxer and underground Flyweight champion. Once, before she became [Dark Witch], she had fought the crocodile hybrid, Bloody Mary.

This Cage Match was a Cage Re-match!