Chase Alma Down

“Wait.” Alma backed off. “It’s not fair.”

“Screw you. I’ll show you what’s fair.”

Anger swelled in Imogen. Every bit of pain and humiliation she’d experienced over the last six rounds was about to come back to haunt Alma. There wouldn’t be any forgiveness.

Alma backed away until she found herself up against the door. She found the doorknob and tried to turn it. The redhead pulled on the handle with desperation as Imogen advanced on her. They both knew the door had been locked from the outside to stop this very possibility.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

Imogen seized Alma by the back of her hair and hauled her away from the door. Alma screamed as she tried to unlock the fingers in her locks.

The dancer threw Alma to the ground, where she landed on her behind. She turned over and tried to scramble away. She didn’t get far before Imogen grabbed her by one of her boot and dragged her back.

Imogen kicked her square in the ass before jumping knees first onto her back. Alma cried out in pain, but she had no time to recover as Imogen rained down a hail of blows onto the back of her head.

Alma desperately tried to cover up, but it was futile. When Imogen rose to her feet, she had battered her opponent into submission.

Imogen dragged Alma to her feet and hurled her into the counter, where the crown of her head struck the hard surface.

Alma was dazed when Imogen started to untie the laces of her military style punk boots. She didn’t resist as the first set of laces were undone.

Imogen clamped her leg between her own as Alma started to come back to life. Again, she undid the laces before releasing her.

Alma continues her attempts at crawling away. Imogen grabbed the first boot and ripped it off, revealing her black sock. Imogen followed and seized the second boot. It came off with ease. Imogen threw the boots aside and continued her goal of humiliating Alma.

She grabbed the girl’s legs and methodically took her socks off.

“You’re not going to be wearing anything when I’m through with you.”

“Let me go.”

The clock ticked down to the halfway mark. Imogen was determined to leave her without a stitch of clothing on. She wasn’t going to take her time and gloat like Alma had.