Tales of the SFL 06: New Blood

Throwing his mic away angrily, he waited with fists clenched and teeth bared as the crowd enthusiastically counted down from 10.

And with every second gone by, the Mantaur was getting more and more unhinged as no sexfighter, male or female, graced the entrance ramp with their presence.

Turning to ringside, he crooked an menacing finger towards the ring announcer, whom valuing his own well-being, quickly climbed up the ring apron and stepped in between the ropes.

Visibly shaking with fear, he nodded his head up and down obediently as the Mantaur barked some instructions at his face.

He then held his own microphone up to his lips as the behemoth crossed his arms expectantly.

"Ladies and gentlemen, the Mantaur has just informed me that he will not be leaving this ring until an opponent from the backstage area has answered his Open Challenge," the announcer told the audience, his usually charismatic voice shaken slightly by the muscled brute's piercing gaze staring right through his eyes.

Some boos accompanied the announcement, as predicted, but the Mantaur could care less.

Ripping the microphone away from the man's hand, he roared with spittle practically flying from his mouth, "I'm done asking nicely. Either somebody in the back come out right now, or I'm gonna go back there and-"

"Give me a S!"

The Mantaur's booming voice was interrupted by the sound of an enthusiastic female voice, followed in short order by the apparent arrival of his next opponent.

A chorus of upbeat teen pop music flooded the arena loudspeakers, accompanied by overtly cutesy lyrics and catchy guitar riffs.

"Give me a F!" Upon the drop of the second chorus, his new opponent finally stepped out of the curtains and revealed herself.

A sultry fireball of youth, she easily looked like she just stepped out of the most recent high school yearbook.

Dressed in a green-and-red cheerleader shell top with no sleeves that perfectly accentuated her lithe figure all the way down to her waist, she swung her skirt-covered hips around enticingly on the entrance ramp as the audience looked on in collective intrigue of this newcomer.

The Mantaur, however, was not impressed. If anything, he was even more pissed off!

A mane of shoulder-length hazel hair flowed down her shoulder in a single braid, only further adding to the visual of her channeling her best Britney Spears.

"Give me a L!" Upon the last shout by the singer, the sexfighter strutted down the ramp with a sassy yet very infectious confidence.

The glossy SFL initials were stitched across her shell top as she continued down, enjoying a very favorable yet ultimately skeptical reaction.

Wearing a pair of fashionable Chuck Taylor converse sneakers, she gave a dazzling smile to some of the fans as the JumboTron captured her facial features perfectly: young, beautiful, and woefully unprepared for what was about to come.

"...and introducing his opponent, from Seattle, Washington, and weighing in at 106 pounds, give it up for...CHELSEA CHEER!" the ring announcer finally enthused, his usually bombastic voice even tinged with slight skepticism as the woman approached the human wrecking ball seething just inches away from him.

Still, the sexfighter showed no fear as she finally reached the ring apron, stopping only to kick off her shoes before coming up the steel steps.

The referee finally reentered the ring as Chelsea stepped in between the ropes to come face-to-chest with the mighty Mantaur himself.

Literally two heads shorter than him, she nonetheless showed zero fear as she stared up at his dark, unrelenting eyes.

Taking his cue, the ring announcer hastily slid out of the squared circle as the two continued to lock eyes: the beauty and the man-beast.

Still sizing her up, the brute smirked down on the young sexfighter, "You lose a bet or something, runt?"

Undeterred, she replied with a friendly yet somewhat naive response, "No silly, I came out here to fight you."

"Fight me?" he snorted, sizing her up with one derisive stare. "I've fought colds tougher than you, little girl. In this ring, I've fought and beaten the very best this league has to offer me. What makes you any different?"

"Well..." Thinking on her answer while absently twirling her braid around in her hand, Chelsea finally beamed at him brightly, "Fighting spirit, I guess."

Scoffing, he took a step back to crack his neck rather loudly before turning towards the slightly intimidated referee.

"Ring the bell," the Mantaur said almost immediately, almost offended by his opponent's mere presence at this point.

The bell rang as instructed, and the match was soon underway.

***

The Mantaur continued to scowl in place as Chelsea Cheer darted from corner to corner in her side of the ring, utilizing her nimble stature to its full advantage.

Not moving a step since the opening bell, he simply watched her with a hint of sudden curiosity in his eyes.

Perhaps he was impressed at her courage and bravado, which one would need copious amounts of just to face him down in a squared circle.

Or perhaps, he was simply thinking about what agonizing and borderline devious things he was going to do to that hot body practically dancing on display for him.

But either way, his thoughts quickly turned to actions as the Mantaur stalked forward to ensnare his feminine prey with his meaty hands.

Still bouncing on the balls of her feet, she was forced now into a twisted game of cat and mouse as her brutish opponent sought to grab her.

Moving with surprising speed for a man his size, he was finally able to corner her against the turnbuckle not even a second later.

Also moving with deft quickness, she dropped down on all fours, and utilizing her nimble physique to its full advantage, slid in between his open legs.

Crawling free of his intimidating forearms, she barely had time to even look up at the striped official before she felt his masculine hand grab her from behind.

Seizing her by the braid, the Mantaur took his time bringing her even closer into his monstrous grasp.

Now with both hands on her neck, he cocked a smug smirk before violently throwing her against the turnbuckle.

The entire ringpost nearly shook at the sudden impact of Chelsea's petite frame hitting it, but the behemoth wasn't yet finished.

Lunging forward, he attempted to clobber her back against the corner with his massive forearms only to instead net empty air.

Darting out from underneath his armpit, the much smaller woman planted herself firmly as the Mantaur turned to face her once again.

Only this time, he was greeted by a stiff low kick directly aimed at his right knee.

Moving while the iron was (apparently) still hot, Chelsea delivered another kick to his legs, both moves only serving to annoy the monster amongst men.

Gritting his teeth angrily, he waited until she wound back for a third kick before lunging forward like venomous cobra and-

"Ack!" Chelsea's eyes immediately grew wide as his meaty fingers closed tightly around her throat, immediately forcing her down to a knee as his bulging forearm muscles bore down on her slender neck.

"Welcome to my world, you stupid bitch!" the Mantaur practically roared in her grimacing face, dragging her towards the center of the ring as his vice grip only intensified with every passing second.

The referee, personally fearing for her own safety, remained a safe distance away as he continued strangling her.

Where there once was smugness and arrogance in his black eyes, there was now only a fiery indignation born of purely sadistic intentions.

Choking her to the point of near asphyxia, the Mantaur slightly relented in his monstrous grip only to lift her off the mat and into the air with the greatest of ease.

Exerting as much effort as he would a gym dumbbell, the behemoth held her up with only one hand still wrapped around her neck, giving Chelsea Cheer a bird's eye view of the arena.

Without warning, the giant then chokeslammed her right back down to earth, the emphatic thud of flesh against canvas nearly flattening the petite woman's frame.

Still holding on to her neck, the Mantaur flashed an evil grin at the cameras at ringside before exerting just a tenth of his uber-Herculean strength to lift her off the mat yet again.

Hoisting her up high over his shoulders, he proceeded to parade around the ring with his opponent practically limp in his one-handed grasp.

Showing her off like an already defeated warrior strung up high, he let the anticipation build in the arena for a moment longer, relishing the inevitable splat while remaining completely oblivious to Chelsea's legs suddenly swinging upwards and-

"Hmmpphh?" Just before the monstrous brute could deliver the final exclamation point, Chelsea Cheer captured his beefy neck in a surprising headscissors!

Crossing her ankles together, the sexfighter somehow was able to tighten the triangle, and with at least the element of surprise on her side, preceded to squeeze the Mantaur with every ounce of strength present in her petite muscles.

Scrunching her face up in concerted effort as she continued to squeeze, and squeeze even more, Chelsea even pulled on his facial hair some to further intensify her hold.

His face at least visibly registered a few flickers of discomfort as she continued to entrap his head in her leggy triangle, her crotch now involuntarily grinding against his snarling facial features.

"You like that, you big jerk?" she taunted at him in between leg pulses, very much taking his nonresistance to her maneuver as a omen for good things to come. "Betcha didn't see this coming, huh?"

Still straddling his shoulders, the young sexfighter cheerfully looked up at the JumboTron, perhaps to see an image of her choking out the mighty Mantaur atop his mountainous frame.

It was only a few seconds later, however, that Chelsea Cheer realized, much like the rest of the audience, that the true image was more like a kitten pawing at the face of a feral and very pissed off lion!

"Fuck, why won't you-eeeee!" Chelsea let out a very high-pitched voice as his strong fingers suddenly shot up and disappeared right underneath her skirt.

Clamping down on the tight globes of her rather round ass, squeezing them tightly with virgin-busting force.

Now gasping in pain as his hands continued to forcefully grope her ass, she attempted to disentangle herself from his determined expression but before she could do just that...

"Hah!" With a sudden roar, the Mantaur powerbombed her right back down into the canvas, her flashing skirt in mid-air now advertising the fact that she wasn't even wearing panties underneath.

An audible oomph escaping her body as she gingerly arched her lower back, now the recipient of a fall from more than six feet tall.

Quickly shaking off the effects of her attempted submission, he snorted down on her dismissively, "That your best shot, runt?"

A pained moan was the only response he got as Chelsea continued writhing on the canvas.

Just the way he likes it.

Crouching down on her now prone form, he grabbed her by the hair and, wearing a grin of pure sadism, yanked her back up to her feet.

Reaching in between her slender legs, the Mantaur once again effortlessly lifted the hazel-haired woman up over his shoulders in a scoop slam position.

Turning towards the hard camera, he made an exaggerated facial expression to pop the crowd before emphatically slamming Chelsea right back down to the mat in excruciating fashion.

Upon impact, her spine reacted to the unforgiving impact as if invisible needles had just pricked her vertebrae.

Flopping over with her back now facing him, the petite woman showed no more of the youthful spark that had made her stand out against the others.

Now, as the Mantaur sneered down on her with even more sinister thoughts brewing in his mind, it was becoming quite clear that Chelsea Cheer was becoming just like his other victims.

Roughly grabbing the base of her skull like he would grip a basketball, he once again lifted her grimacing expression off the mat with only one arm.

Then, just before she could even begin to regain her footing, he suddenly and quite violently slammed her facefirst back into the familiar canvas.

Earning a sympathetic wince from the audience, the cheerleader in green and red was certainly feeling black and blue all over by this point.

It certainly didn't help when she felt his boot suddenly coming down on her lower spine, eliciting a pained shriek as she felt at least three hundred pounds of muscle and evil intent bearing down on her, if only for a moment.

Stepping on, then off Chelsea, the brute once again took a moment to pose for the crowd, pumping his fists into the air and uttering a guttural roar before many in the front rows.

"I deserve better than this!" he bellowed out to a nearby cameraman, pounding his chest angrily for emphasis.

Even his muscles seemed to agree, his pectoral muscles flexing dangerously with a light sheen of sweat now covering them.

However, as he continued to play up his frustrations, the still writhing Chelsea conjured up just enough strength to crawl towards the ropes with his attention still preoccupied.

But not for long.

Instinctively snapping his head back at even the slightest hint of movement from his periphery, the Mantaur immediately zeroed in on her attempt to scurry underneath the ropes to recover.

Moving with a speed not indicative of a man his size, he closed the distance between them within a matter of almost nanoseconds.

"Where do you think you're going, little girl?" Grabbing her by the ankle just as the rest of her body had slipped to the outside, the Mantaur's grip was ironclad.

Before she could kick at him with her free leg, he dragged her right back to the center of the ring, and now with one boot on either side of her squirming torso, knelt down to continue having his way with her.

Ten meaty and very experienced fingers suddenly closed around her neck, prompting her to stop struggling immediately as the collective pressure nearly made her eyeballs pop right out of her sockets.

Bringing her up to his level, he told her in no uncertain terms, "Here's what's about to happen. I'm going to keep beating the shit out of you until I get bored. Then, if you're still conscious, I'll fuck whatever's left. Got it?"

Taking her pleading eyes and whimpering expression for affirmation of his statement, he then brought her back up to full standing.

Chelsea was only on her feet for a second before her monstrous opponent slammed a knee directly into her solar plexus, quite literally folding her in two.

Gasping out in pain, she barely had enough time to even get a breath out before the mighty Mantaur grabbed her by her uniform and flung her overhead into the opposite end of the ring!

Flying through the air in a noticeably less graceful form than the average cheerleader routine, Chelsea Cheer crashed and nearly burned just inches away from the closest turnbuckle.

Lying face down with her cleavage taking the brunt of the impact, she made no attempt to get up, or even to respond to the referee attempting to check on her.

However, she did respond to the Mantaur's thundering footsteps nearing her prone form.

Pushing up on her elbows and knees, she was 'helped' up to her feet by the brute grabbing a fistful of her hazel locks and pushing her up against the corner.

Seething down on her with utter disgust, he held her face up against the top turnbuckle with one hand while bringing the other up, high above his head.

Letting the suspense build in the arena, the Mantaur gave a sinister chuckle, and down went his open palm...

Slap! There was not a single noise to be had by anyone outside the ring as the brute's frying pan of a right hand viciously chopped Chelsea's youthful chest, bringing her down to both knees as the impact fully resounded.

Clutching her obviously throbbing sternum, she finally coughed out a pained yelp as he towered over her dangerously, his fists clenching in perverse anticipation.

Watching her continue to groan and gasp for air, he cracked his neck as his opponent's pain and suffering naturally bored him.

"Get up," he barked down at her.

Deepening his scowl as she continued clinging onto the bottom ropes, he repeated much more forcefully, "I SAID...GET UP!"

Not waiting for her to respond, he seized her by the hair and again brought her up on her now wobbly legs.

Looking deeply into her visibly shaken expression, the Mantaur couldn't help but cock a smug grin across his grizzled features.

"We having fun yet, runt?" he told her, his black eyes burning right into her whimpering expression.

"Please...stop...I give u-" Before she could finish her desperate plea, the Mantaur suddenly wrapped his hand around her windpipe, choking her yet again.

"I stop when I want to," he snarled at her, his one-handed grip so powerful that it forced her down on her knees.

Pawing weakly at his bulging forearm, Chelsea's face was growing redder than her cheerleader uniform by the second, and the Mantaur was relishing every moment of it.

Reluctantly letting go at the referee's urging, he watched as she practically collapsed at her feet, audible heaving for her next breath.

"While you're down there, runt, why don't you do something for me...?"

Still massaging her already bruised throat, she slowly found the strength to look up as he pointed a finger towards the area of his body she was now level with.

His crotch.

"Take it out," he instructed her, his eyes flashing dangerously. "I ain't gonna ask a second time."

Now finding herself in a kneeling position, she frantically nodded her understanding and with trembling fingers slowly unzipped his pants.

Almost immediately, his equally monstrous manhood spilled out into the open, the long appendage nearly slapping her in the face!

Chelsea Cheer's eyes bulged in pure fear of the footlong at half-mast currently staring back at her.

"Now get it hard, bitch," he instructed her firmly, his tone suggesting that any additional comment on her behalf would not be wise.

Scooting forward, she reluctantly groped his monstrous shaft and then took him directly into her mouth.

The monster amongst men let out a very human moan as Chelsea's youthful lips sensually traced the bulges on his foreskin, before partially filling her mouth with his girth.

Ignoring the demeaning hoots and hollers of the spectators, she continued to suck him off, inch by inch.

Grabbing her by the back of her head, he quickly asserted control of the tempo, pumping his dick in and out of her mouth at his own speed.

Fighting an instinctive gag reflex, she orally pleasured him until the Mantaur suddenly stiffened up and-

"Alright, that's enough!" Unceremoniously piefacing her to the mat, he wore a look of satisfaction at his now fully erect cock pointing straight at the cowering cheerleader.

The arousal in his face lasted only a moment longer before being replaced by his signature rage.

"Let's see how much more punishment you can take..." Bringing her back up to her feet, he lightly shoved her against the turnbuckle.

Putting all 12 inches of himself back in his pants, he again sized up the completely miserable Chelsea Cheer with that evil glint in his eyes.

Seconds later, it finally came to him.

Backing up, he cracked his neck eagerly before his back touched the turnbuckle from the other side of the ring.

With sinister eyes, he watched Chelsea barely able to hold herself upright, her arms desperately clinging on to the top ropes for any amount of stability.