The Oak of the Rockies, Brandon Braun

Somewhere halfway around the world is the man I will be dominating. His name is Brandon Braun, and he has what could be called a reputation.

Brandon isn't particularly young, nor particularly tall, nor particularly good looking. But he was one that had spent his life fighting like me, but had been at it a decade longer.

He was of respectable height to be sure, and quite thickly set with heavy shoulders, and from footage of his arena victories I could see he is thickly set all around.

Not a lot of footage exists of Brandon's fights, although associates claim he has won over 5 thousand brawls. This is due to all of them occurring as he travelled across the continental United States, town to town, challenging a town's strongest fighters again and again until he could beat them. Sometimes he could hit two or three towns in a day. Dallas, Texas took him six months. No matter what winds hit the oak though, he stayed planted. He grew, until he could split the rocks he came across. Now I am the rock in the path of the Oak.

I enter the warehouse in my favored gear of small muay thai shorts and a reliable sports bra to restrain my C cup breasts. I had received some warning but was still rather shocked when the first hands came out to feel me with their gloved caress. As always, hands were drawn to my ample backside and thick thighs, some even rubbing gently against my vulva over my shorts. At first I flinched from their touch but quickly I felt almost hypnotized. They were not groping or assaulting my body, but gently worshipping it's muscles and curves. They weren't just lusting after me but attempting to understand what it is a goddess is made of. By the time I reached the cage, I felt twenty feet tall and like I could fuck a bear into submission. In my mind I see the quite large sum of money raining down on me in cash as I rode the Oak until he wasn't even wood. This should be fun.

Brandon entered in similar fashion, enjoying the touch, until he entered the arena and I felt his gaze begin to penetrate my skull. His eyes then roved over every inch of my body, but this wasn't a display of attraction; it was a seasoned approach of studying his opponent until the match begins so he can find any conceivable weakness in form.

But I'm no amateur either, and a guy like this hates mind games.

"What's up fatboy?" I said to him in a teasing and high pitched voice. I pulled my shorts down slightly and lifted my bra to flash him my bare tits and (recently trimmed because I'm not an animal) pussy. "Like what you see, huh? Don't worry. When I fuck your brains out I'll strip first so you can keep enjoying."

Brandon was briefly taken aback at my sudden and brash display. Honestly if it was any other setting it would not have been my go to but here, against him, it was the right move.

A spotlight hits the announcer, a small but curvaceous woman, and her voice lifts into our introductions.

"LADIES AND GENTLEMAN! TONIGHTS BOUT IS SCHEDULED FOR ONE FALL! IN THE RED CORNER, HE HAS CARVED A PATH ACROSS THE UNITED STATES! HIS NAME IS WHISPERED WHEREVER BRAWLERS GATHER! IF THERE'S A WAY TO FIGHT, YOU CAN BET HE'S SEEN IT, FELT IT, AND BEATEN IT! WITH A RANK OF 3B AND A TOTAL OF 16 MATCHES IN THIS ARENA, **FIGHTING OUT OF BOULDER COLORADO, BRAAAAAANDOOOOOOOON BRAAAAAAAAAAAAAUUUNNN!"**

The crowd erupts with cheers. I'll be honest, most of that seemed like gibberish to me. What matters right now is making sure he knows I'm not intimidated. I walk up behind the announcer, reach through the bars and pinch her backside. I expected a surprised yelp, but instead she turned to look at me and gently purred.

"While I appreciate the attention, you should be watching your ass, not mine." She nodded past me at Brandon. "And don't worry, he doesn't usually go straight for the asshole without warming you up. He's a gentleman like that."

I turned and saw Brandon smirking. I doubt he could hear us but he could probably guess what is being discussed.

The announcer turns back to the crowd.

"IN THE BLUE CORNER, MAKING HER DEBUT APPEARANCE IN OUR NOT SO HUMBLE ARENA! SHE IS THE BLONDE BOMBSHELL FROM BOTHNEA! HER FEATS OF LEG STRENGTH ARE THE STUFF OF LEGEND! NECKS SNAPPED! CHESTS CRUSHED! CUM SHOT CLEAR ACROSS A FULL STADIUM! HER LEGS HAVE TAKEN HER ACROSS BATTLEFIELDS, ACROSS OCEANS, AND THANKS TO THE GRACE OF GOD AND THE AMERICAN DOLLAR, THEY HAVE TAKEN HER HERE TONIGHT! FROM THE FRIGID COAST OF SWEDEN! FRIIIIIIDDDDAAAAAAAAAA MAAAAAAGNUSDOOOOOOOOTTTIIIIRRRR!"

There is a cheer for me, but mostly hooting and whoops, from men and women alike. When the crowd calms down, we hear those magical words.

"Fighters ready? BEGIN!"