Manon

The first to accept Marisa’s challenge was the model/martial artist, Manon. The slender pink-haired fighter entered the arena with great confidence, completely undeterred by Marisa’s staggering stature. “I have no need for a muscle-headed lout for a partner. But the chance to humiliate such a big bruising brute, is an opportunity I cannot pass, mon cheri.” Manon chirped as she walked right up to the gargantuan woman. “Aha! That’s more like it! I wish there were more women like you! I’d have no trouble finding a suitable mate!” Marisa barked happily, truly impressed with the thin woman’s tenacity. “Then let us not waste a moment, raise your fists, battle me for supremacy!”

The two fighters squared off against each other in the dirt-filled Colosseum, eyeing each other, and assessing their assets. Marisa’s eyes went straight to Manon’s plump rump, her curvaceous form proving to be a troublesome distraction. Marisa also couldn’t notice how scrawny Manon’s limbs were, becoming increasingly afraid that she might break the twigs. Manon’s eyes dismissively scanned Marisa’s muscular form, a body of a goddess for sure, but one that she was sure she could break.