Chapter 1

There was virtually no sound from the watching women as the two young girls circled each other, hands roughly held up in what could be described as a conventional boxing pose. At least they had been taught that. They may have been blinking at each other nervously but urged on by their moms kept their hands in position, little fists clenched.

The slightly taller of the two girls, Donna, was six and theoretically in boxing terms could outreach the slightly smaller girl in front of her. The five year old was called Megan and she was looking tearful already and they hadn't even exchanged blows. She was having more trouble keeping her hands up, and the thin white tape wound round her small fists were already wet from where she had used the back of her hand to wipe her tears away earlier. That was when she had accidentally touched the perimeter wire and got a small but sustained shock.

Megan was a little plumper than Donna, and considerably darker in all sorts of ways. Donna was blonde, her opponent was almost tawny skinned and dark brown haired. They were both naked, save for a diaper round their slender hips. It wasn't modesty; child fighters as young as this tended to piss themselves when punched apparently, especially in the belly. Some people liked seeing them with pee running down their little legs, but Davina - at whose home the fight was taking place - didn't want the smell of piss stinking through her living room.

The main carpet was new and though the two girls were going to fight on a square of older carpet put down for the occasion (a sort of off-white, so any new blood would show up to go with the brown dried blood stains already there) there was always a chance that some mess would end on the good carpet. If a girl was fell out of the 'ring' there was every chance of a smear of blood on the better carpet.

Four posts formed the corners, standing on a solid base so they wouldn't fall if one of the girls collided with it, but the post was only there to hold up the thin wire that marked the edge of the arena. A small electrical current pulsed through the wire, not enough to hurt any girl who staggered against it (or tried to run away) but enough to remind the two fighters to keep in the middle of the square carpet.

Of course, some girls wanted to run away. They didn't, despite their instincts, as their training was to to fight another girl. But rather than a haphazard chase round the living room with one kid flailing at the back of the other, the spectacle was to see them fight face to face, and to ensure that one more feature was added. A collar was on each girl's neck and a thin but strong chain connected them.

There were a few Kidfight Club purists who said that such a connecting chain spoiled the event. They maintained the girls had to retreat, the way professional boxers did. But the spectators here at Davina's home - the twenty or so women who had made the journey here from all over the state - wanted to see a fight. No qualms, no buts.

The only woman who wasn't sure sat to one side and didn't lean forward. Not only did she not have her hand up her skirt as some of the other watching females did, but she also had a look of disbelief on her face. Apparently bringing yourself off while yelling at two small girl fighters to get on with the fight was an expected response. The woman, Adele, stared in horror at what was in front of her: it wasn't just the two almost naked boxers circling each other, but the way the women round the side of the 'ring' were calling for one or the other to get throwing punches. Connect with the other bitch, they were demanding. Punch her lights out.

Adele was no barbarian, and this was no barbaric place. But it was incongruous. She was in the large but otherwise ordinary home of a well-to-do woman - a mother apparently judging by her five year-old child stood by her side. Davina had welcomed Adele when she had arrived with her friend Theresa and was polite when told it was Adele's first time at a Kidfight Club event, making only the briefest enquiry of Theresa to check that Adele wasn't some do-gooder or cop or "unreliable" as they were known.

Theresa had assured Davina that Adele was okay, and they had taken their places at the 'ringside' to watch the fight. Adele couldn't help but notice that some money had changed hands as bets were made on the outcome, and that one or two women had their own girls with them. The women sat but all the children watching stood silently by their mother's shoulder, regarding the events. One of the watching girls, Adele could see, had her hands tied in back of her. So maybe not everyone was here willingly, she thought. The girl was seven and black, but she wasn't struggling against her secured hands. Just a cable tie, but enough to stop her moving her hands.

One or two of the other women watching had video cameras running to record the event. Adele wondered how often this went on, how many of these Kidfight Club movies were circulating underground. But she'd never seen anything in the media about it, never heard rumors of it until her friend Theresa persuaded her to come and see one. On the strict understanding Adele promised faithfully not to say anything to anyone.

Yet for all her misgivings there was a certain raw animal excitement about this. The way, she imagined, that original bare-knuckle fights were centuries ago. No gloves, no Marquess of Queensbury rules, no sham event staged for TV. There were only women here and that made her feel better. This may be some sort of perversion but it was a female-only perversion. Like real dyke lesbianism in a way, not the lipstick variety for horny men to whack off over. Adele did wonder if some of the women here were in fact lesbians, but their attention was on the girls circling, their own hands pleasing themselves and no one else.

There seemed, Adele noted, to be no hurry for the girls to actually engage. But then, there was a lot of calling and strong smell of female arousal in the room. Some of the women had already cum once and were clearly determined to climax again. However, the language from the women was getting more and more filthy. They weren't just bitches in the ring, they were fucking cunt bitches now. Adele glanced at her friend Theresa next to her. Theresa was leaning forward like the others absorbed in the dance between these two girls, her own hand already up her skirt.

Then the fight action began. The taller of the girls lashed out. it was a sort of windmilling action, but it caught the smaller girl off guard. Donna's clenched fist connected with the top of Megan's dark haired head and the smaller, plumper child staggered. No blood, but ti was the first blow. A roar went up from all the women - save for Adele, though she did gasp - with more loud demands for proper punches.

Donna looked pleased. She thrashed out again, bringing (Adele heard) a rebuke from a blonde woman who must have been Donna's grandmother, judging by the similarity in looks. "Keep your fucking hands up as I showed you," she snapped. Donna didn't hear. She had connected with another blow - a glancing one - and Megan staggered again. Megan's mother, a darker skinned woman near Adele was telling her "fucking stupid bitch" of a daughter to get her guard back up.

Megan though had another problem. As Donna had stepped forward to throw those two punches, the chain between their necks had slackened, and Megan in seeking to tighten it had stepped backwards a couple of paces; enough for her back to touch the perimeter wire. The tawny skinned girl screamed and jerked off the wire. She stood up straight and took a third blow straight to the face. Her guard was gone and Donna's hand smashed into Megan's cute nose. Blood spurted and Megan dropped to her knees.

"Get up, bitch," howled the woman who was Megan's mother. "Just hit the cunt back," she yelled.

Maybe Megan misheard the instructions, but she threw her first punch right at Donna's crotch. Donna's guard was in true boxing style higher up, and clearly there was no limitations on below the belt (or in this case, below the diaper fastening) punches. In fact, there was no referee in the ring. The girls were expected to go wild. Adele guessed that this was a fight until surrender; timed rounds were of no interest here.

Donna staggered back, a little surprised by the ferocity of the blow and its location; the diaper padding did little to protect her. Megan may have looked scared and bloodied, but she was clearly determined. The neck chain stopped Donna stepping too far away and Megan was up, trampling her blood into the already blood-stained carpet.

Megan didn't windmill like Donna had. She actually threw a right-handed punch and while it just missed Donna's face the marker was down: this was a fight, not a surrender. Megan threw another punch with her other hand - a weaker punch - but that connected and suddenly there was blood on Donna's lips. Donna looked stunned as if she hadn't expected that, but she didn't retreat into the wire. She lashed out with her hands, making a wild movement and connected with one blow. More blood, or rather the same free-flowing blood, spurted from Megan's nose.

The shouts and calls from the watching women were loud and frenzied. Bitches were being urged to beat the fucking shit out of the other bitches. Blows were connecting everywhere now on the girl: head, body, arms... Any semblance of an idea that they would fight as boxers did had disappeared. This was a free-for-all, and Adele was sure that at least once Donna kicked out with her bare foot and connected hard.

But kicks weren't going to bring blood; it was punches and both girls' faces were now a mass of red ooze and snot. The carpet at their feet was splattered and they still laid into each other with a frenzy. Adele stared and thought she was wrong; she had thought Megan would surrender meekly. But she wasn't going to: she was a fighter. The smaller one barreled forward, head down and connected with Donna's flat chest. The taller girl's legs buckled, and Megan was suddenly over her, hitting down at Donna's face. Blood was spurting and fists flying, and then the unthinkable happened. Megan was surely about to win and no one was stopping it, wouldn't stop it until one of the girls was unconscious perhaps. But Donna wasn't quite done yet. Somehow she got a straight right hard into the face of megan and the smaller girl's face snapped back. Donna sprang up and brought a punch into the belly of Megan, who collapsed into a ball, sobbing. Donna had won, and she kicked the side of Megan several times in an exultant rage.

It was over, and Adele realized with horror that her own hand was now between her legs.

---

"What did you think?" Asked Theresa after a while as they drove home.

"I don't know," said Adele. She had been staring out the window, lost in thought since leaving Davina's.

"Like it?"

"No, hated it." Adele took a deep breath and blushed. "But I'd go again."

"Gets you like that," grinned Theresa. She was driving and seemed relaxed; Adele was sure she couldn't have driven at all after what they'd seen. It was the way the loser, poor little Megan, had been tied to the electric wire and given some shocks by her mother. Cost her mom three hundred bucks in lost bets, so she probably felt entitled to taking it out on her loser of a daughter. The poor girl was unrecognizable under all that blood and pus and bruises, but she bit her bloodied lip and didn't complain at her punishment.

Donna, as winner, equally bloody, got to be licked out by a couple of the women who had won cash, though the blonde girl had to do the same for Davina as a thank-you for the woman staging the fight.

"But why do they do it?" Asked Adele. "I mean, it was barbaric."

"If you say so. But it was entertaining, and a lot more honest than any wrestling make-believe." Theresa shrugged. "Fake is fine and a lot of women get off on seeing hunks play at fighting, sure. But we Kidfight Club women here get off on seeing reality, albeit with girls."

"So would you let your kids fight like that?"

Theresa laughed. "Honey, I have three boys. Boys may do that someplace, but I don't know of it. This is girls only stuff." The woman driving didn't say anything for a few minutes and then said, quietly: "You have a daughter."

"What?" Adele stared at her friend. "I couldn't let Ursa do that! They'd kill her."

"No one's died in the ring," said Theresa. "Not as far as I know, but then it goes on all over the States. Secret stuff, but word'd get out if one girl was killed. Still the benefits are good."

"What?" Asked Adele again.

"I reckon the winning mom made over a thousand dollars on that fight we saw. Even the losers get something; if you think your daughter's no good, bet on the other kid. Hey, even I won forty bucks. Davina gets a free tongue job as a thanks for staging it. Donna gets a week off school and probably as much ice-cream and soda as she can manage. Plus, she's famous. She loves the attention; at birthday and Christmas she's showered with gifts from adoring Kidfight fans. I heard someone sent her two thousand dollars as a token of their thanks."

"Fuck," gasped Adele. Then she gathered herself. "So how often does this girl fight?"

Theresa shrugged. "Four, maybe five times a year. Good ones fight more often, the poor ones need more time to recover from being smashed up."

"And always this many to watch?"

"Today's crowd was small; I've been places where they have three times as many women watching. But you have to have homes, or private places, where you can stage a big fight. In private."

"It wasn't a fight," said Adele soberly. "It was a massacre."

"Not entirely. Megan was on top, and could have won. But I've seen her fight before. She gets all teary and panicky until something riles her. Donna's okay, but not a natural. I just had a feeling today she'd have the edge. But that Megan will be back. Can't keep a good kidfighter down long."

"You make it sound like it's all good."

"It is when you cum just like I did," said Theresa. "That was one hell of a good climax."

It was later, when Adele could bring herself to ask about it that she found out why the black kid was bound. Indeed, why there were kids there watching. She accepted reluctantly it was a way of women getting off, but she was puzzled why were the girls were there. She and Theresa were having a coffee a few days later in Theresa's kitchen. "I can't get the event out of my mind," confessed Adele. "There was so much wrong with it and yet... "

"Yeah, it tickles you right in the fuckbox," laughed Theresa. "God, there's no greater feeling than an orgasm watching some girls fight."

Adele didn't want to say it aroused her. She had made herself cum over the memory of it a couple of times. "But there were kids there watching."

"Oh yeah. Learning the ropes, kids who are going to fight themselves."

"But the black girl was tied. I saw it, her hands were fastened behind her."

"Oh her... yeah. That one is going to be some champion," Theresa said. "Her mom has been training her for a big fight in Vegas, going to take place at some rich bitch's mansion." She laughed. "Crease Hers Palace, they call it."

"The one who was tied, was she being punished?"

"Girl was tied because she gets so excited it's like she wants to jump in the ring and start pummeling someone. Her name's Tyson - no shit - and she's mean. I think it will take a damn good fighter to stop her when she's loose."

"So, you going to go to Vegas to see this Tyson fight?"

"God, I wish!" Theresa laughed. "Tickets are a hundred dollars each and I think my hubby would miss me being away for three days." The woman looked at her friend. "But you want to go, don't you?"

Adele gulped and colored up. Then she said: "Yes. I must be mad, but I want to see two more girls beat on each other."

"In which case, put fifty from me on Tyson to win."

Chapter 2

The rich bitch's mansion in Vegas was huge and full of women and they were betting on whether Tyson could get the better of a slim asian girl. Up close there seemed no contest; Tyson was big and seven and Ling-Mi was six, though almost seven herself. But there was a wiry look and an inscrutable craftiness about the asian girl. Adele understood she wouldn't be in the ring with the bigger girl if she wasn't good. The question was how good.

On instinct Adele took a bet for twenty five on Ling-Mi to win. It seemed crazy but it was pretty crazy to be here, over a thousand miles from home, watching two girls get ready to beat the hell out of each other. A month ago Adele knew nothing of all this; just a casual conversation with Theresa who had been sneering at some pro-boxing on TV, saying people ought to see real fights.

Now she had seen a real fight - between small girls - and despite her horror she was hooked. Fortunately her husband had let her have the weekend away and Adele had her mom back home to look after Ursa so she could be here. Adele had come prepared too; she wore a loose skirt to the Vegas fight so she could get some serious masturbation going.

There were over 100 women at this place from apparently all across the States, and Adele found herself sat next to a tall, older woman. She might have passed for someone in government or college education, such was her style of clothes. In fact, this woman - Helen - was married to a guy who was pretty big in Washington. She apparently traveled all over watching these fights, as she revealed to Adele when they got talking before the event began. This was her ninth fight this year and she laughed off ideas her husband would miss her being away, saying that he was happy back home screwing small boys. He liked her out of the way, even if he didn't know where she had gone. "He just pays the flights and hotels so he can enjoy his own perversion," Helen smiled.

Soon Adele was gleaning as much information from Helen as she could about this 'sport' as well as enjoying just talking to this good-lookign female. "The thing is, hon," said Helen, "it's a growing business what with videos and web-streaming, as always people sure like to win and they love kids with some sort of sex angle: they may say they don't, but people do. Small girls are seen as sexual, that's just how it is. Trust me, Kidfight Club isn't going to go away."

"But these girls... they get hurt," objected Adele, even if she found it a turn on. It had taken time for her to admit that, but she had given in finally.

"So what?" Helen pulled a face. "The women who put their girls in this really don't mind. No one's going to ask the kids in the ring what they want, though the truth is they like winning. They probably don't like to be hurt but hey, we need to think first of us women who get off on this."

Adele was still a little shocked. "Well, I have a little girl - Ursa - and I'd be horrified if anyone even pulled her hair."

Helen smiled. "Really? I think you'd quite like it if someone slapped your child. Maybe you'd like to do it but daren't."

Adele colored up, troubled by the fat the woman was good at seeing the truth. "Um, well, no... I mean, possibly. Uh... if she was a Kidfighter, maybe she could defend herself so I guess it'd be okay for her to fight." She couldn't quite believe she was saying this. "She's only six though and..." Adele swallowed hard.

"And you'd love to see her hurt."

Adele tried to say no, but she could only nod. "I feel so bad even thinking that. When I saw my first fight I tried not to think of Ursa in there, and me cheering ny child on. But then I thought... I'd be cheering the other girl on, too."

Helen laughed. "Welcome to the new motherhood," she said. "Look, I was a psychology major before meeting my pervert husband, and I know a lot of moms love their kids and equally want to see them hurt. They love them and want to see them battered by another girl. It's crazy but it's true."

"But I wouldn't even smack her."

"No, but that is more to do with society right now. Deep down all parents want to punish their kids."

"But I'm a loving mother!"

"And you are a woman with real sexual needs. We all are. We learn to get over it," smiled the woman.

Adele looked at Helen and felt a strange stirring in her. She liked this woman and even being sat next to her was sending a thrill through her. She looked at the taller woman's full lips and could imagine kissing them. Probably while watching a DVD of a girl fight. Abruptly she pushed the erotic thought away. "Tell me... did you have a daughter who fought?"

"Goodness me, yes! Kelly's 19 now, but when she was seven she was good. Had a mean right hand and a crafty knee to the cunt. Used to bring them down real fast."

"And she survived okay?"

Helen shrugged. "A few bruises, a fat lip or two. Once had her nose broken, but who cares? I got off on it and hey, here I am. One day she'll have kids of her own and I guess if they're girls, she'll have them trained up good. I sure hope so, but if she won't do it I will. I love training up girl fighters."

"Because you like winning?"

"No, mostly because I like to cum with my hand covered in their blood."

"Oh God," moaned Adele and felt her own sex pulse more fiercely at the thought of playing with herself while her hand was covered in Ursa's blood.

The fight was about to begin, or at least the preliminary fight. With people coming from all across the states, Helen explained, events like this usually had two or three fights. First up were two five year olds, who looked positively lost in the ring. But they gamely tried to hurt each other and eventually the olive-skinned girl, Maria, won when the girl from Canada, Eloise, was reduced to a bloody pulp after a series of blows to her once pretty face.

Both Helen and Adele had played but not climaxed as they watched the bout and Helen explained why from the outset she thought Maria would win. "People think Mexico is the most violent nation when to comes to Kidfights, because they have heard about the clubs south of the border where girls fight with spiked gloves. But the truth," said the woman, "is that they learn to weave and dodge there because of it. Maria may only be five but she had good defensive moves: Eloise was hitting fresh air mostly. Just a question of waiting for a good first punch from the Mex to mark the beginning of the end." Helen paused as they watched the beaten girl being dragged from the ring by her angry mom and what looked like her aunt. They had tied the girls arms and were literally hauling the beaten child away, telling her she was no damn good. "The Canucks like Kidfights, and one of their specialities is having them fight naked in the snow. Maybe it was just too hot here for the kid."

"Is this a world-wide thing?" Asked Adele.

"Sure is. I hear some of the Filipinos are particularly vicious and you can get some real solid Russian girls who pack a real powerful punch. But the world champion in the seven year old age group is Romanian, a girl called Angela, which is funny for someone so brutal."

Adele thought of Ursa, her own daughter, being pounded on to her little knees by a muscular east European girl and quite liked the idea. She diddled herself as she thought of her child suffering.

The next fight, featuring two girls flown in from Europe, was a mismatch. The six-year old girl from Sweden soon got the upper hand on the six year old from Ireland and the girl called, appropriately, Colleen was down and out inside a few minutes. "Disappointing," said Helen with a shrug. "Mothers like their girls to make a longer fight; you earn more money if there are more orgasms but," and at this Helen nodded at the crowd, "you can tell very few got off on that. No time. I expect the girl's mom will punish her for not making the fight last."

Adele agreed. She had barely got fingering herself when the end came and Colleen was flat on her face. the ring floor had been spotless at the start but now it was splattered with blood. "Guess I better make sure I cum for the main attraction."

"You will," said Helen. "We all will, as after that I guess we are pretty desperate now."

Adele was surprised when the two girls were brought out for the main event. Tyson she had seen before, but not naked. She was astonished too that both girls had no diapers on.

"This," explained Helen when asked, "is a championship fight. No holds barred, no diapers. Wire round the ring edge has the power increased. If they touch it they'll know. And if they piss themselves or even shit with fear, the audience want to see it. Oh, and no coverings on the hands. Bare-knuckles, so someone will get hurt."

"I can see why so many women are here," said Adele. "All ready to cum." She glanced at the audience who already seemed excited. Some of the women had brought girls with them, but several of them were bound, gagged and blindfolded. Slaves, explained Helen, not fighters, so they are here for show and not to observe and learn.

It was obvious that most of the women were well prepared. Pantyless crotches were on obvious show all round the ring as skirts were up and back, fingers already diddling as Tyson and Ling-Mi had their collars connected. "Watch Ming-Li," said Helen. "I saw her last year, a special all-asian fight which she won easily. The girl has a great roundhouse kick. But if she lets Tyson land a blow on her she might find it hard to get back into the fight."

Adele was nodding. "God, even seeing them like this makes me want to cum."

Helen laughed, and reached her hand down between her new friend's legs. "Let me do that," she said. "And you can do me if you want."

"You bet," sighed Adele and put her own hand between Helen's open legs, feeling the soft warmth and wet of the other woman's cunt. They were fingering each other and teasing each other - as were a lot of other women round them - as the fight began.

It was probably not the greatest fight between two girls but it was good. The two girls circled for only a few moments before they began attacking. Ling-Mi was fast and kicked hard, but Tyson was a tough bitch and took the kicks while she delivered some impressive punches. The asian girl was also handy with her fists and drew first blood from a cut eyebrow. But that was merely a stimulus for Tyson, who connected quickly with a right and a left ("Two handed fighters do some real damage" observed Helen) and the smaller girl's nose and lips were gushing blood.

Ling-Mi got a good kick to Tyson's cunt and the black girl staggered back on the the wire. She yelped as it zapped her and she staggered off it, only to be knocked back against it again. It looked for a moment as if Tyson was going to be stuck on the wires, wriggling and howling at the pain, but she forced herself off and threw a punch of astonishing force that lifted the asian girl off her feet. At once Tyson seized the prone, bloodied girl and swung her up and against the wires. She couldn't hold her there for fear of getting a shock herself but Ling-Mi was suffering. She was also pissing down her own leg.

Ling-Mi struggled off the wire and elbowed Tyson in the face. The blow was hard and the black girl looked down and out. But she was up and fighting, maybe quicker than her opponent wanted, or expected. She rained in four or five hard blows, with a rapid left right combination that sent Ling-Mi bouncing off the wires but she didn't get up from that. Tyson though dragged her up by her hair and punched the girl's broken nose harder with her other hand. It was over and she let Ling-Mi fall back to the floor like a rag doll.

At that moment, both Adele and Helen came on the ends of each other's fingers and so did just about every other woman in the place. The collective sigh and gasp was awesome. In the ring Tyson was so pumped up she was dragging the bloody-faced Ling-Mi round the floor on the end of her connecting chain, leaving a red smear on the once pristine floor. "She'll spell out her name now in blood if she can," moaned Helen, in the throes of her climax.

Tyson didn't quite manage that but she was having fun.

"Oh... Ursa could never beat her," said Adele, still being racked by her own orgasm.

"That's why we send our kids in there," said Helen, breathlessly. "Believe me deep down we all want them to be more like Ling-Mi than Tyson."

In the ring, there was one final humiliation for the destroyed Ling-Mi. Tyson squatted over the girl and pissed all over the beaten girl, piss mingling with the blood while the women cheered and the owner of Crease Hers Palace getting ready to be eaten out by the champion.

The woman sat with legs spread and glistening cunt on show, waiting for a sweaty, bloodied Tyson to come and kneel and get to work with her tongue. Adele understood now the benefit of staging a fight; there was always going to be a winner to perform the post-fight thank-you ceremony.

Chapter 3

Adele had no idea just how good it could be in the arms of another woman. The night was too short for her liking and though Las Vegas hotels are designed to encourage the guests to spend more time at the gaming tables and slot machines in the eternal quest for the riches, rather than in bed, Adele knew she had found the jackpot with Helen.

Helen was older and wiser and oh so gentle. She was so careful with a woman who had thought all her life was devoted to husband and daughter and the creation of a home. The taller woman made love to Adele as if she was precious and would surely break at her first sapphic orgasm, but as there were more to follow she was coaxed and led and guided into the most delicious climaxes.

"I had no fucking idea," moaned Adele as helen lapped at her open cunt, running her experienced tongue over the younger woman's aching, erect clit. Actually, it was the second 'no fucking idea' she had had in a short space of time; seeing little girls turn each other into a bloodied mess and getting off on it had been the first great revelation.

Now Adele was floating arms of this incredible woman and basking in the light of early morning. She and Helen would have just about all day to themselves before they had to depart to make their respective flights home. "I wish I didn't have to go," said Adele. "I'd stop time like this forever," she sighed.

Helen grinned and kissed her new lover. "But we have more loving to do at other times. We will see each other again. We won't be apart for long," she assured the younger female.

"And again and again," echoed Adele. Then she sat up, her breasts hanging invitingly for the older woman to nibble them. "But my daughter," she began, remembering what was said in the night. "We said Ursa would -" The woman gulped, thinking of the child in the ring, ready to fight or be hurt.

"She'll fight, yes. We will turn her into a fighting girl."

"I thought that was just a dream," said Adele, gasping as Helen's teeth nipped at her hard nipples. Adele slid back down the bed, legs apart, wanting the woman to fuck her again.

"It was no dream," said Helen, positioning herself to eat Adele out. "You love seeing girls fight, and so do I. I will help train Ursa and you will love seeing her in the ring."

"And if she loses...aaah!" Helen's tongue had found that hard clit, lapping at it with a passion.

"Then," said Helen breathing into the folds of the woman's wide open wet cunt, "She gets bloodied and bruised and beaten."

"Beaten in the ring," sighed Adele as fresh waves of pleasure soaked through her.

"No, beaten when she has finished. You will beat her afterwards. Never forget about the delights of hurting your own kid."

"Oh fuck," moaned Adele and she wasn't sure whether it was Helen's adept tongue and teeth, or the idea of her daughter being beaten twice that made her catapult to an orgasm.

---

Over breakfast Helen told Adele that she would take her to a special gym she knew in Vegas where she could watch young girls training for fights. "It's quite an eye-opener," she smiled over the bacon and eggs. "Some of the little ones probably aren't going to make it as top level kidfighters but their moms sure do try to make them."

Adele leaned across the breakfast table. "What if Ursa doesn't want to do it?"

"Then my dear," Helen said, leaning across so she could exchange the briefest kiss with Adele, "we will make her. You think she has any opinion on this?"

"I love you," blurted out Adele, and then looked horrified. "I'm sorry, I wasn't supposed to say that out loud." She looked guilty.

"Absolutely no problem," grinned Helen. "I was thinking in bed when I sat on your face that you'd be a really nice person to love, too. Now hurry up with your meal, honey. I want to make love to you and cum at least twice before we head to the gym."

---

The kidfight gym was an anonymous looking building and had a sign outside saying it was the Boxwood Education Center for gifted under 10s - by appointment only - and the two women stepped through the doors to the reception area. The woman who worked there, a muscular and well-built black woman in a navy blue uniform with the name Lena sewn on to her breast pocket, recognized Helen and greeted her like a long lost friend. "I didn't see you at the fight last night," she gushed at Helen. "I thought you'd missed it."

"No way! Not with that little bitch Tyson on the bill." Helen turned to Adele. "Lena, this is a very special friend of mine, Adele. She and I will be pretty close at a lot of fights from now on."

"Hi," said Lena with a cheerful smile. "I guess you have found out how good our Helen is in bed, huh?"

"You too?" Asked Adele.

"Long time ago, when my gal was fighting hers." Lena sighed, but she had a twinkle in her eyes.

"And you are still the best fucking big, hard bitch I've ever screwed," said Helen as she leaned in and kissed the big woman's full, red lips. "if I wasn't so hot for Adele here I'd bed you right now," she added.

"Mmm, still the sweet-talker you always were," chuckled Lena. "Better not let my lover hear you, she'd be mighty jealous."

"Our secret," winked Helen. They all said bye for now and Adele and Helen moved through to the gym itself. "That woman is the best protection this place could have," said Helen. "She's a bitch when roused but so good in bed."

"Better than me?" Asked Adele.

"Different to you," smiled Helen, and she pressed Adele back to the wall and forced her knee up between Adele's legs as she kissed her. "Want me to get Lena's cuffs and show you?"

"Yes, but no," said Adele, reassured. "It's just that this lesbian thing... it's all so sudden."

Helen nodded and kissed Adele gently. "But you will get used to it with me, darling," she breathed.

The gym was like most boxing gyms Adele had ever seen in movies. She had had no experience of ever being in one, but she could appreciate the feel of it from a dozen boxing films she'd seen. It was big and high ceilinged and there was equipment littered around and punchbags and two fight rings - one with wire that was clearly electrified. But what caught Adele's eye first was that one of the punchbags was human.

It was the girl from Ireland who had lost the night before. Colleen, Adele remembered her name, looked terrible as she hung in a bag supported by two shoulder ropes. Only her head emerged from the black leather and she was swinging as a naked five year old girl with boxing gloves on was pummeling at the girl in the bag. It was clearly the revenge of the losing girl's mom, who was stood arms folded watching the small girl hit her secured daughter. "Boxing gloves?" Asked Adele as they stood and watched.

"Only for some training," said Helen. "You have to give some protection otherwise none of the bitches would be in any condition to fight. Kidfight fans like unmarked faces before the fight. After, they want to see very marked faces. So this little girl here is just practicing pounding Colleen."

They stood and watched, and the mother of Colleen stepped over and introduced herself. Her name was Rosie. "I'm so sorry for my little one's show last night," she said. "I thought I had her all ready but she goes and turns in a game like that." she sighed. "Well, this will teach the little whore."

"You think she deserves this?" Asked Adele, having explained that much of this was new to her.

"Oh to be sure I do." The Irish woman sighed. "Colleen went and won the all-Ireland title last February in Dublin and I thought she was ready to step up, but she's not only let me down but also all of the Irish kidfight game. And there she was going to fight the Scottish lass for the all-celtic title but I'm not so sure now."

"She will be fine," said Helen. "Needs to keep her guard up, that's all - and she was up against a good fighter. That Swedish girl will win more than she loses."

Rosie nodded. "Thankfully no one from the Scottish girlie's camp was here to see this, but they'll hear about it."

"So whose hitting Colleen?" Asked Adele.

"That," smiled Rosie proudly, "Is my youngest. Her name's Katherine and she has her first fight next month. In Cork. With luck and God's grace she'll murder the bitch."

"She looks good," said Helen. "Great right hook."

It was a great right hook indeed, and the bruised and battered face of Colleen was blubbering as several connected to her bagged body.

"May I ask," said Adele, "how did you feel when you first put Colleen in the kidfight ring?"

"Wonderful, really fabulous. She got smashed badly but I loved seeing her face spurt blood and snot. Oh and the tears! She looked lovely. Took her a week to recover and she spent all the time tied to her bed, bless her."

"But she improved, clearly."

Rosie nodded. She called to Katherine to try a few punches to the helpless Colleen's face, then she answered. "It was an open air fight, in Kerry. No more than a dozen locals, against a girl from Wicklow. Vicious little fucker she was, but Colleen wanted to carry on afterwards and get revenge. We trained her up, me and my sister, and got her back in the ring with this bitch. Colleen broke the little bitch's nose first punch and we eventually had to drag her off, especially when she began kicking the loser's cunt hard when she was down and sobbing for mercy - as if my girl was ever going to give her that! But she was now a winner - well, until last night."

"Still is," said Helen, watching a good left punch bring a spurt of blood from Colleen's face. "She'll get over this."

As Katherine was getting carried away Rosie excused herself and went to stop the frenzy from the little girl. Adele noticed that when the punchbag was lowered and opened, the battered Colleen was tied up tight inside it. "She will have spent the night that way," remarked Helen. "Sometimes it's tough to learn the fight game."

The two women moved over to the practice ring, where two diapered four year old girls were circling each other. But they didn't have gloves on and their hands were tied in back of them. They were instead just practicing, Helen pointed out, their feet movements. There was an older woman in the ring (the woman who owned the gym apparently) and she had a sort of cattle prod and was giving both girls instructions and prodding them with the hot end of her rod, making them dance and squeal. "That'll be their moms over there," said Helen, pointing out two young women locked in a deep French kiss and with hands on the other one's tits.

"Does it all end up as lesbian sex?" Asked Adele. She was however aroused by the sight of the two women, and she clutched at Helen's arm.

"Not always, but this is sexually arousing stuff here and we are all women. Some females stay hetero but men aren't allowed anywhere near this. So most moms and aunts and grandmothers play some lez stuff, and those that don't want a woman in bed always masturbate like fury. But fucking other women helps the arousals. Trust me."

The older woman had finished prodding the two kids in the ring (one of them was crying but no one was taking any notice) and the woman tied them back to back and left them standing in the center of the practice ring, telling them their next exercise was balance: they hadn't got to fall over or they would be punished. The old woman came across to Helen with a big smile. They knew each other of course and that was the cue for more kisses and feelies and introductions.

"Adele, meet Pam," said Helen. "I first met this wonderful woman when I was fucking her husband. Big mistake as Pam turned out to be so much better in bed."

"And this woman here could close me down if she opened in competition," said Pam, nodding at Helen. "She's the best goddamned trainer in the States. She has the touch of making champions." There was genuine admiration in her voice. Then she looked at Adele: "I guess she's going to turn at least one of your kids into a champion," she said.

"I only have the one and I'm not sure," blushed Adele. "She... she might not want to."

Pam threw back her head and laughed. "Oh my, you really think it's a matter of choice?" She shook her head and then she grew serious. "Let me show you the alternative when the little darlings refuse." She beckoned Adele to follow her and took them to a heavy, locked door at the back of the gym. Helen remained behind to watch the two four-year olds struggle to stay upright.

"This," said Pam as she unlocked the door, "is what they get when they turn down the chance to fight."

The door opened to reveal a narrow, windowless room with row of beds. Six beds in all. The beds were simple iron frames and on each one was the figure of a small child: all girls. All naked, all aged between five and seven. It was noticeable that each of the girls had swollen bellies as if they were overfed.

The six beds were all occupied and each one of these children was held with heads clamped in position so they had to look upwards. Each girl was strapped down at chest, hips, legs and even their necks, all secured with wide black rubber straps so they lay quite still on their backs, arms by their sides. From the wall above their heads six pipes emerged, all clear plastic, and each tube was securely connected to a fastened down girl. These tubes were attached to a gag-like device so the tube drained into the helpless girls' mouths. In two of the tubes a sludgy brown and yellow mixture was sliding through, in a couple of others just a yellow liquid. It was all immediately in front of the relevant small girl's horrified eyes. Even the empty ones showed traces of brown along the clear pipes.

From each girl, a pair of tubes sprang from between their legs and these opaque tubes disappeared into the floor by the foot of each bed.

As Adele stared at the scene the girl nearest was watching a dollop of this unappealing sludge commence movement towards her mouth. She was struggling weakly against the tight straps that held her down, unable to move away from the fact she was going to have to swallow this mixture. She seemed to be whimpering as if this was not what she wanted at all. The first of the mess slid lazily down into the girl's mouth.

Adele suddenly understood what the slime coming through the tubes was. "My God," she said faintly, "is that what I think it is?"

"And you think it is what?"

"Shit and piss," gasped the woman. She felt like throwing up, but equally she couldn't take her eyes off the foul sludge disappearing into the nearest girls mouth.

"There's a bar next door," explained Pam. "The tubes you see are from the men's bathroom. Of course, they don't know where it goes; the men there take a dump or a piss and forget about it. The girls here have no choice but to swallow whatever comes down the tubes."

"And," said Adele, feeling weak. "their waste goes out of them and... it gets recycled." She felt even more like vomiting.

"Correct. Under the floor are tanks and these girl's waste collects there and is pumped back, so they can all be fed again when the bar is closed. Perfectly efficient and they need for nothing. Shit and piss turns out to be reasonably nutritious in these quantities."

"This is... barbaric," gasped Adele. She watched horrified as the nearest girl's first dollop disappeared and new, larger turd appeared slid more rapidly down the piss lubricated tube. The poor girl was going to have to chew and swallow rapidly to cope with it all.

Pam chuckled. "Yeah, which is why you have your hand pressing at the front of your skirt."

Adele gasped: she did indeed have her hand pressing against her crotch and hadn't noticed herself do it. She pulled it away sharply, but it was too late to pretend now. She was excited by this, whatever the revulsion. "So these girls are losers," she said, her voice cracking with excitement.

"No," said Pam. "These girls are refusers. The losers may feel bad after being beaten in a kidfight but they get to go away, rest, heal up, practice some more and come back to fight another day. These bitches said they couldn't possibly fight another girl. So, they have plenty of time to think about that as they lie here."

"Fuck," gasped Adele. More shit and piss was descending into the nearest girl's mouth. Adele was sure the kid was moaning and struggling more (pointlessly, as it happened) but she had no way of avoiding the revolting slime. In the bed next to her an older girl was getting a fresh first taste of some man's waste through the wall. She too was struggling weakly against her bonds.

"Some of the guys at the bar next door, I am told, shoot their load into the toilet there." Pam shrugged. "Guess the girls here get to taste that."

Adele suddenly didn't care. "I have to cum," she said and plunged her hand up her skirt.

"Feel free," said Pam.

"Tell me," gasped Adele, feeling both horrified at what she was seeing and thrilled she could masturbate so openly, "how long do they stay here?"

"A week minimum. Then the little bitches are asked if they have changed their mind about being a kidfighter. Most of them change their mind eagerly, some don't. The girl at the end has some religious objection she says, so she's been here nearly three weeks, eating and drinking like that. But she will soon overcome her objections. Soon she'll be begging to get in the ring." The girl at the far end of the line of beds had quite a swollen belly. "They sure put on weight on this diet so they are glad to get in the gym and work that fat off."

"And my Ursa will end up here." Adele, rubbing harder, was near to climaxing. The raw smell of wet cunt was in the air.

"Only kept here if she can't be persuaded to fight. Most of them listen to the moms or aunts or grandmas and soon see sense."

"God..." gasped Adele. "My precious daughter... she either gets her face smashed or she eats shit... oh God, I'm fucking coming!"

"Enjoy," smiled Pam.

Adele enjoyed, her knees almost buckling under her when she came with a shout.

At the door, Helen was watching. She helped Adele out and the door was locked behind them. "So, how do you think Ursa would choose?" Asked Helen. Ahead of them, in the ring, the two four year olds, bound back to back, had lost their balance and were writhing on the floor. Their mothers had finished making out and were beating their crying daughters with thin canes, telling them to get back to their lazy feet.

"I don't know," said Adele, head resting on Helen. "I really don't know how Ursa would go, but I'd sure get some great orgasms whatever she chooses."

"That," said Helen as she pulled her lover to her to kiss her hard and deep, "is exactly the idea."

Chapter 4

Ursa was six and slim and blonde, with rosy cheeks and mysterious dark eyes, but she was undoubtedly very pretty; the sort of girl who would look terrible either with blood running from her nose or a little fat belly from too much shit eating.

The sort of girl when being beaten or bound would make any woman want to cum. Helen said that as soon as she saw her. "One wonderful little bitch," was the tall woman's summary.

Adele had been surprised at the Helen's change of plans. Helen said she had canceled her flight back to Washington and would fly instead with Adele to her home. "You can put me up for a few days," she had grinned. "I can even sleep on the couch if you've no spare room, though I'd rather sleep in your bed."

Adele wasn't quite sure what to say to her new lover. In a way she had been sacred of Helen finally seeing Ursa, knowing that it would be another step on the path to making her daughter a Kidfighter. Or for that matter a shit-eating slave.

There was no doubt Adele wanted the excitement of any or all of that, but her motherly instincts were trying to reassert themselves. She even confessed her feelings of guilt to Helen on the plane. They couldn't get adjoining seats but met up in the small, cramped toilet for sex. Adele had just climaxed from being fingered and kissed when she began to cry. "I'm so worried," she had blubbered. "My mom will be there and seeing Ursa so innocent, me knowing what I want for her... I shouldn't."

Helen had then surprised her. "I know," she had said soothingly as she held Adele close. "I went through all that myself. I know exactly how you feel." She had held Adele in her arms and kissed her tears away. "Of course there are doubts. I had them. Every mother does."

"You mean, you thought twice about it all?"

"Twice, three times... more. I worried endlessly about it. But then I thought it would drive me mad not to, not knowing how Kelly would manage, how she'd fight. As it happened I made the right decision: she loved it all. Kelly won way more than she lost and when she retired at nine, well, she was as good as any little bitch I'd ever seen in the ring."

"Retire... so Ursa can stop when she's nine?" Adele had suddenly looked hopeful.

Helen had smiled and kissed Adele's nose. "Listen, hon, they can retire at the end of any year after they reach seven. Some moms retire their girls early, but most want them to fight until their ninth birthday. When they reach nine they can stop. Weird really, no one seems interested in the 'olders' as they're called, no one wants really to see girls as old as nine fighting. Some 'olders' are supposed to find a place in someplace like Mexico or Brazil where they have ten and eleven year olds fighting, but from what I've heard it's brutal and messy."

"What we are planning," Adele had said, "is brutal."

"Not brutal as in chains tied round fists, spiked gloves, or the kidfighters hobbled in chains or fastened by the neck to poles so they can't move much and dodge the blows."

"My God," Adele had moaned, partly in shock at the idea and partly because Helen had slid her fingers back into her spread, sopping wet cunt. "Please, darling... finger me again. I need to cum once more."

Helen had done that, and Adele had made up her mind she had to do this kidfight thing, no matter what. At least she felt reassured she wouldn't ever send Ursa to central or south America.

Now they stood in Adele's home with Ursa smiling up at Helen. Her mom's new friend.

"Honey," Helen smiled down at Ursa. "You are quite the prettiest little girl I've seen in ages. And you know what, I think you look like a dancer."

Ursa had giggled. "I can't dance," she said shyly.

"Oh I bet you can. Show me some moves, sweetheart," said Helen. The child obliged with some impromptu dance moves and Helen applauded. Meanwhile Adele's mother Arlene had taken her daughter to one side.

"This friend of yours, this Helen woman you met in Vegas," she said, eyes narrowed. "She seems mighty interested in Ursa."

"Uh... She's a dance teacher. Loves to help girls to dance, express themselves." Adele hated lying to her mother, but it was so much better than the truth.

"You're lying," said Arlene.

"No, mom!" Adele felt panic rising in her. "I'm not." How could she know her daughter was lying? She found out.

"Theresa, your friend, came over yesterday. We had quite a chat, her and me."

"What?" The feeling of panic in Adele doubled. She felt she could hardly breathe.

"I was real curious quite why you'd gone to Las Vegas. You ain't a gambler and wouldn't know one end of a roulette wheel from the other, so I figured it was a man. I really wanted to find out why you needed to be away three days. I found out that you were in Vegas to watch some show. She told me all about it, eventually."

"Uh... eventually?"

"I plied her with drink. Theresa's sweet but she talks way too much when she's had a few glasses of wine."

Adele gulped. "I think she makes things up -" The woman began.

"No, my dear. She showed me some video she had. Little girls fighting. She said you'd gone to watch some fight with a girl named Tyler."

"Tyson," said Adele, feeling tearful. Behind her, Ursa was still dancing, Helen still applauding.

"Whatever," shrugged Arlene. "You into this thing then?"

"I... I was curious, that's all. She put me up to it. I would never do anything to hurt Ursa, you know that."

"Bullshit," said Arlene. "That woman is a kidfight trainer. Helen Grady, right? I saw her name as producer and fight trainer on the kidfight video Theresa had. The name stuck out because my maiden name was Grady." The older woman paused. "What I saw was downright barbaric. Undoubtedly the worst thing I've ever seen, all that blood and sadism. Women howling and playing with themselves in public." She said the last part like it was the most disgusting thing ever.

Adele felt devastated. Her plans had already come undone. Her mother wouldn't let this go. She had probably told Adele's husband Kevin, but he was out right now, thankfully. "Mom, it isn't what you think," whispered Adele.

"It is what I think," said Arlene. "So here's the deal. I do not want to see a single drop of blood on my granddaughter. I do not want to see scars or bruises and I definitely do not want to discover she has broken bones."

"Then don't look," said Helen. She had finished watching Ursa's dancing and now stood right behind Adele and Arlene and was holding Ursa's hand. Ursa looked happy that she had been asked to dance. "What you don't know won't hurt you."

"That's my granddaughter you're planning to have beat up," said the older woman sternly, turning to Helen. "You think I like the idea of that?"

"I'm not going to do anything to her, but I want to teach her to defend herself. Also I think," said Helen carefully, "you want something for your silence. You want a reward for not knowing, not looking at what's going on."

There was a cold silence between the two females and then a slow smile spread across Arlene's face. "Oh my, you are good, aren't you? I looked up some stuff about this kidfight stuff. On the internet. Not much there, I admit, but some comments on this one weird place. They kept mentioning this Helen G woman. They said, she always gets her way. She's smooth."

"I am. So... You want me in bed?" Helen didn't seem the least fazed by any of this. "Or you want your daughter in bed. She's pretty good when she has a woman's tongue in her mouth."

Adele gasped at what was being said, but to her astonishment her mom laughed. "Good try, Ms G, but I am not gay. I guess you've bedded my daughter already. I always thought she might be a bit bi-curious."

"Mom!" Adele finally said.

"Let her finish," said Helen. She hadn't let go of Ursa's hand but the child seemed contented to stand there. Ursa may have understood something of what the adults were saying but she didn't look upset by it.

"So I want something and I'm not lez? I'd say a man, wouldn't you?" Arlene grinned. "If you and this woman, Adele, are going to fuck each other I guess I better take over Kevin. Give him a little amusement. After all, his wife's going to be busy getting ready for the next fight, correct?"

Adele gaped at her mom, but Helen chuckled. "Perfect. And you already know Kevin would want to play your way, right? A man getting hot for his big-tit mother-in-law."

Arlene laughed back. It seemed these two females understood each other perfectly. "I did buy some new underwear," said Arlene. "Sort of corset like thing. Garters, that kind of thing. Gets men going, I know. I let Kevin see me in it, and hey, he cuddled me up and told me he always really liked me. He goes for mature women and," Arlene pushed her big chest out, "there's sure a lot here to pack away in some black lace bra and let Kevin flip them out."

Adele found her voice. "You... you've already fucked him!"

Arleen grinned. "All three holes, hon. Apparently you don't so the anal thing. But I do. He appreciates me on all fours so he can reach and maul my tits. Sorry, darling, but that's men for you."

Helen was unconcerned by this revelation. "So it's settled," she said briskly. "You and Kevin fuck merrily, me and Adele will share a bed. We will keep the damage to any fighters out of his way and your way."

"Agreed," said Arlene. "And now, as I have never seen a pair of filthy lesbians at it, I guess you can put on a show on for me. All solely for education of course."

"Can I see the show too?" Asked Ursa, smiling up.

"Sure," both Helen and Arlene said as one.

Adele thought she'd faint, but her pants were soaking wet with her juices as it was. It was even more remarkable that Ursa clapped when she saw what sort of show it was and thoroughly enjoyed seeing mommy and Helen make each other cum in a 69.

Ursa even understood what "make me cum, you fucking slut," meant and said yes, her mommy was a slut when she did that with her tongue in aunt Helen's pussy.

---

The arrangement seemed to work well. Kevin was as embarrassed as hell that he had been revealed as a mother-in-law fucker but got over it when he saw his wife having sex with another woman. The sleeping arrangements worked well, and Ursa was taught to dance.

"Dancing is important in a fighter," said Helen. "Ursa's going to be a late developer - most fighters start when they are four - so she has some catching up to do." The garage had been cleared as the training area, all unknown to Kevin. But as his sexy, eager mother-in-law kept him fully occupied he didn't care what happened elsewhere. He hardly saw Ursa most of the week and no one seemed to mind. Aunt Helen after all, was the new influence in the little girl's life, and she loved the dance lessons where she had to hold her hands up with fists clenched.

Theresa had to be involved too. She had felt guilty about revealing - while drunk - Adele's purpose in going to Las Vegas and she was relieved that world war three hadn't broken out. In fact, she was made to feel welcome and as a result very pleased to meet Helen. A couple of three-way sessions first with Adele and her lover and then with Kevin and his mom-in-law made her feel part of the family. As a consequence she became something of the go-between, keeping Adele informed how well her husband and her mother were getting along. It became hard to believe that so many people were under one roof and yet they so rarely met.

Arlene however agreed that when Ursa was ready to fight, she would whisk Kevin off somewhere for a long week of fucking and sucking so the child could recover from her battering out of her - and her dad's - sight.

"She might not get a battering," said Adele. "Helen says she's looking good."

"Honey," sighed Adele's mother as she got some coffee on one of the few times their paths crossed. The older woman was dressed in a mature set of pink and white underwear but with no panties on. There was dried cum on her girdle and stocking tops. "The purpose of this is to see Ursa hit and hurt, so don't pretend. She may win, whatever that involves, but you want to see her hurt."

"Sorry," said Adele.

"It's what women do," said Arlene cryptically as she took her coffee away upstairs to where Kevin was waiting to use his mother-in-law's asshole again.

---

Theresa proved to be a great help in another way. She had found a small girl who would act as Ursa's sparring partner. Adele's daughter now understood this was not just dancing, but a special sort of fighting dancing, and she also grasped that she was meant to use her fists to punch out. She had worked hard on the punchbag set up in the garage and Helen said her moves and the way she threw punches were a delight. But she said it was no good without a human opponent. Sooner or later Ursa needed to face a real child.

The solution was provided by Theresa. A cousin of hers by the name of Yvonne had been to a couple of kidfights and while she had enjoyed it felt torn between wanting to see more and protecting her child. No way, she said, could I let a child of mine be beaten like that. Yvonne's daughter Sian was five and while she was lithe and a good mover, she had never thrown a punch in her life. Still, she would be there to try mostly to avoid being hit, so she could spar with Ursa providing she could wear a helmet to protect her head.

Yvonne insisted on it. No head protection, no sparring.

The best that Helen come up with locally was an inflatable rubber bondage hood with clear panels over the eyes. It meant Sian couldn't see very well but any blows to her head would be cushioned by all the air. Helen had got the smallest adult size she could (no one within miles would sell kid's bondage helmets) and pumped it up hard, having assured Sian and her mother that it would totally protect the five year old. Sian was worried about the gag part of it and asked how would she speak with it on, but Helen assured her that all she had to do was hold both hands up to show she needed to stop for a rest.

For her part Yvonne fretted she wouldn't be able to stand there and watch her daughter being punched - even with a helmet on - and not intervene. "I had a devil of a job not going into the kidfight ring to rescue some poor girl getting beat badly. In fact, at the next fight I was tied to a chair so I wouldn't jump up and stop the event. Don't misunderstand me: I loved what I saw but I felt it was my job to intervene. So being tied up made me stay out of the way."

It was agreed that Yvonne could watch her daughter sparring if she was tied the same way. Yvonne was six months pregnant with her next child and so was allowed to sit on a chair in the corner of the garage and Helen tied her in place, being careful of her swollen belly. "I better gag you," said Helen, "as I don't want you shrieking out and disturbing the neighbors, okay?"

Yvonne agreed, and a ball gag was used to keep her quiet. She moaned a little when she saw her naked Sian being gagged and hooded and the air pumped up inside it, so she had a grotesquely swollen black rubber ball instead of a head. The little girl took a few minutes to get used to holding her head up with the hood on and not staggering around, but she was soon ready.

The sparring began slowly. First of all Sian wasn't used to the helmet so she didn't move much and Ursa was unsure about aiming punches. For the first five minutes there wasn't much movement and Helen stopped the 'bout' to talk to Ursa. When they resumed, Ursa had a better idea of what to do. She began jabbing fast and hard and a couple of times made the hooded Sian stagger back. From her chair Yvonne was moaning helplessly into her gag. Those punches that connected in turn prompted Sian to try and dodge more. She began to weave and lean away, and made a better training session for Ursa.

The two girls weren't connected by a neck chain and there were no electric wire ring fence to keep them from moving too far. Several times Sian backed into the garage wall or the workbench and once fell over her helpless mother where she sat. Helen was pleased how the training was going (Sian hardly held her hands up to stop) but there was too much 'running away' by Sian. Helen decided that they needed a restraint to stop all the back-pedalling by the hooded girl for although she was told to more or less stay still and just dodge, her instincts were to try and run.

The easiest solution was a rope from the beam above the garage fastened to the top of Sian's helmet, where there was a metal D ring. She told Yvonne what she was going to do to her daughter but didn't remove the woman's gag to find out her views. Yvonne was making some urgent mmphing noises but Helen took no notice (and neither for that matter did Adele or Theresa, who was there to watch) Theresa had gone to stand behind her cousin and put her hands on Yvonne's heavy tits, rubbing them lightly so the tied up woman's nipples stood hard against her thin shirt. "She used to love this," explained Theresa. Apparently, she still did, though it was hard to tell what the tied female was trying to say either about that particular attention or what was happening to her child.

Sian was secured by the D ring so she had some room to move a fews step back and sideways, and the two children recommenced the sparring. More and more punches from Ursa were hitting the inflated rubber ball that was Sian's head and the hooded girl was trying to dodge and weave as far as she could on the end of the rope.

Then the unexpected happened. Either Sian got carried away or was scared but she brought her hands up like Ursa's were and tried to fend off the blows in something approximating to a boxing position. Helen was grinning: she was going to do this training another time but already it was making for excellent preparation for Ursa. But the real shock was when Sian went on the offensive and lashed out with a punch of her own. Ursa was utterly unprepared for it and the little girl's fist caught her on the nose. There was blood everywhere and Ursa staggered back, quite shocked to find out what it was like to be hit.

Everyone made some noise, especially the gagged Yvonne, who sounded as if she actually cheered.

Helen asked Ursa if she wanted to stop but the six year old said no, spitting some blood out of her mouth. "But tie her hands," she said, indicating Sian. Helen nodded and did so, and then let Ursa loose on the child. The blows rained in on the air-padded head of the helpless Sian, and then on her body. There had been no instruction from Helen to do that, but Ursa was mad as hell. Privately Helen was pleased; she needed to see that Ursa was a proper fighter and not just a dancer, and she was.

Sian for her part now she was tied couldn't protect her slim, pale naked body and several times she almost collapsed from a blow to the chest or belly. Only the rope to her hood stopped her dropping fully to her knees and she had to make herself get up repeatedly to endure more punishment. She couldn't signal she had had enough and neither could her bound and gagged mother. Theresa was now pinching her cousin's hard, erect nipples and rubbing her own legs together as she stood and watched from behind the chair. Adele was simply masturbating openly; she no longer cared who saw her playing with herself.

By the time Helen had stopped the sparring bout, several minutes later, the floor was splattered with blood from Ursa's nose and there were blotches and purple bruises all over Sian's thin, pale torso. The little girl was obviously sobbing underneath her hood, and when it was removed floods of tears cascaded down the poor child's face. The gag was removed and her hands untied and she fled to her mother to hug her, even though no one had made any attempt to untie Yvonne.

Theresa did take Yvonne's gag out and the bound mother cooed and consoled her daughter, who was saying over and over: "It hurt mommy! It hurt!"

An hour later they were all sat round in the house, all seemingly back to normal. Ursa's nose had stopped bleeding and she was cleaned up now, and there were no bruises to be seen on Sian as she was dressed in a big, baggy t-shirt. The two girls were sat in front of some kids' show on TV, enjoying milk and cookies as if nothing unusual had happened.

The four adults - Helen, Adele, Yvonne and Theresa - were sat round the kitchen table with a cup of coffee, discussing the afternoon.

"In my mind, the events proved conclusively that Ursa is a fighter," said Helen. "She got mad and wanted to hit back. She got over the shock of being hit and bloodied and fought on."

"And I thought she looked good," said Adele, secretly very proud of how her daughter had coped.

"I liked the way Ursa held herself." said Theresa, who other than Helen had seen the most fights and had some idea of kidfight techniques. "She'll learn about warding off blows like that."

"I feel totally confused," said Yvonne. "It hurt me seeing my daughter pummeled like that, but I loved she drew blood. Sorry, Adele, I know it was your girl who got punched out, but that hit was... well, so good." She blushed. "Made me proud to be Sian's mom."

"Sure was a good punch." Helen nodded. "Ursa has to learn that this is what kidfights are. It isn't all one way stuff. It is very much give and take,"

"And I wanted to see Ursa hurt," confessed Adele, her own face coloring up. "I was fingering myself when it happened and my climax was just awesome."

"That's kidfights," laughed Helen.

There was a noise from in front of the TV and the four women hurried through to find the two girls had finished their milk and cookies and were rolling on the floor. The two girls were wrestling.

"Hi mom," grinned Ursa, looking up. "Me an' Sian are jus' seeing what it's like fighting like this."

"Kinda fun," grinned Sian, "but not like fighting properly."

"What?" Asked Yvonne, hands on her fat belly in shock.

"Mom," the five year old scrambled from under Ursa and jumped up to stand in front of her mother. She was grinning. "Can I please?"

"Please what?" Blinked Yvonne at her child.

"Can I please, please, pleeeease learn to fight like Ursa does? I promise i'll be good."

Ursa had come up behind Sian and put her arms round the younger girl. "An' I don't mind if she hits me 'cos then I can hit her back. Please?"

"Oh fuck," moaned Yvonne. "Yes, yes, yes," she said. Then over her shoulder, she asked: "Could someone eat me out please. God, I'm desperate."

Remarkably the pregnant woman had five volunteers.

Chapter 5

Ursa staggered at the weight of the blow from the other girl's little fist, and the blood that was gushing from Ursa's cute nose was staining the once pristine front of her white tee-shirt bright red. She looked tearful and no doubt there was snot among the blood that dripped down her.

Because it was a sparring bout and not a fully fledged kidfight, the six year old was allowed to keep her top on, though she was wearing diapers. If she had to fight in them she may as get used to wearing them now, Helen had said, as it was important she learned to be mobile with something bulky round her slender young hips. She was struggling with it though, looking far less accomplished with all that padding on her.

For some reason Ursa's opponent, little five year old Sian, was completely untroubled by her diaper. Both girls had been encouraged to pee in their diapers before they fought so the weight dragged at them, but non one really understood why it was less trouble for the younger girl. There was no doubt the presence of a diaper was somehow intimidating Ursa.

The older girl had barely connected with a punch and though Sian was extremely good on her toes and showed remarkable balance, Ursa shouldn't have been so obviously on the losing end.

Helen glanced at Adele, who as usual was masturbating as she watched her daughter fight, but there was a worried look on the mother's face. She would, Helen understood, be going through the crisis that all moms faced at this stage: she wanted to see her daughter fight, was prepared to see blood (and indeed find her daughter being beaten as erotic) but it was the realization that maybe her child wasn't good enough that was making her anxious. Helen had told Adele that this would happen, but Adele thought she would be immune to it.

Now it looked as if she wasn't.

"I can't cum," said Adele, throwing a worried look at Helen. She had for once stopped rubbing her hard clit and was standing straight, the damp fingers of her right hand by her side.

"Don't worry," said Helen with a smile. "It happens."

Adele looked back at her child, trying to dodge another confident punch from Sian. It glanced off the side of the older girl's head and while it didn't do much damage, it was another humiliation for Ursa. "Maybe she's no good," said the mother, her face creased with anxiety.

"She is," said Helen, but she stopped the bout. "That was very good, Sian. Just try to remember about not leaving yourself open when you launch that right punch, see... your left hand goes down too much," demonstrated the woman to the five-year old. "But you are doing great, honey."

"'Kay, coach," said Sian with a smile. She liked calling Helen that.

Helen turned to the sobbing Ursa, who knew she hadn't done great. The blood hadn't stopped dripping from her nose and she looked a mess. She even had a cut over her eye that looked raw.

It was, Helen knew, time for some tough love. The girl was good; by rights she should be pummeling the younger girl more than she was. There were times when, diaper-less, she had proved to be far superior in technique to Sian. In the previous, non-diapered bout, she had hit the smaller girl so hard that everyone thought Sian had been knocked out cold. Sian's pregnant mom, tied as she usually was to a chair to watch the sparring, had been desperately moaning into her gag and struggling with the ropes. Either she wanted someone to bring her off or release her, but all attention had been on making sure Sian was reasonably okay. She was, and the gagged Yvonne looked mightily relieved. Just to help her get back to feeling good when she saw her child was okay and not unconscious, Adele had gone over and fingered the seated woman to a huge orgasm.

But things were different now. Yvonne sat looking pleased behind her gag and even Theresa - who didn't in a sense have a dog (or more accurately a bitch) in this fight - was beaming.

Helen was addressing the bloodied and unhappy Ursa. "Now, I'm not pleased here. so it's time to step up, honey. You are going to learn to fight in a diaper, so it's dance time. First off, this means you will first learn to duck and weave to avoid the hits. I'm going to tie your hands in back and let you wear the rubber hood. It will hurt when I inflate it but it will help protect your nose, understand?" The tearful Ursa nodded and Helen continued. "So let's get going. You will learn, hon, so hands behind you and turn round so I can tie them tight."

Ursa glanced over at her mother, maybe hoping for some way out, but Adele shook her head. No way out. The mother understood how important this was and had got the hood ready in her hands, ready to pass over to Helen. "I'm sorry, mom," sniffed the upset girl.

"I'm not," said Adele to her daughter. "You want to be good at this, sweetheart, and this is the best way to learn. We talked about this: and we said that no matter what happens, no matter how much it hurts right now, it's way better than eating shit, right?"

The child nodded and tried to smile. Her mommy had told her about how bad kidfighters were made to eat shit and drink piss, and she didn't want that.

---

"You make her eat shit?" Adele's mother Arlene was astonished.

"No," said Adele, coloring up a little. "I didn't say that. I said that bad kidfighters had to eat it."

"And is that true? Ursa's pretty convinced that's what ahead for her."

"No!" Adele was flustered. "I only said that so Ursa would try harder, get her to make sure she fought well." She felt annoyed her child had gone to her grandmother and told her that. It was supposed to be a secret and now she was struggling under the glare of her own mother.

"Maybe it's better for her," said the older woman after a moment or two. They were sat at the kitchen table, drinking coffee and no one else was there. Ursa, now recovered from her bloody nose and cuts was at school and Helen had gone 'home' fora few days to check her husband was still there, though increasingly she didn't seem to care about him or his hobbies, providing he still sent money.

"What?"

"Maybe she isn't really cut out to be a fighter after all. So maybe she needs to eat shit."

"But... you hate all this kidfight stuff." Ursa stared at her mother. "We agreed: you have Kevin in bed and you stay away from what I want for Ursa."

"First of all I never said I hated it," said Arlene. "I watched that kidfight video, so I know what happens. What I said is I never wanted to see my granddaughter hurt like that." She shrugged. "Other kids I'm not bothered about."

"But, it doesn't turn you on," said Adele. She was feeling confused.

"No, on it's own it doesn't. My turn on these days is a man with a stiff cock, especially when I am ready for it in me. I admit however the fighting is somewhat arousing; like me watching you and Helen 69ing. I wouldn't do it myself but it helps me get horny. Your husband appreciates that," the older woman smiled a little.

"And so you're saying that..." Adele gulped. "You'd rather Ursa eat shit?"

Arlene smiled a little more. "I guess I am."

Adele couldn't quite believe what she was hearing. "I still don't understand..." She shook her head.

"Let me explain," said Arlene. "Kidfighting is okay, but I don't want to see Ursa hurt like that. She will get battered in the ring, even if she wins more than she loses. She said she hates wearing the diaper, that she can't fight in it. She feels silly, she said. Now, I know from talking to Helen there are fights where the kids go in naked. Nothing to stop them peeing on the floor. So she could go in for just those fights. But they are fewer and farther between Ursa wouldn't get the early skills she needs to improve. She wouldn't get near winning."

Adele was staring at her mother. She'd never heard her talk like this. The woman ignored her daughter's looks and continued: "So it seems to be our little girl has a choice. She either gets used to wearing a diaper, maybe all the time at home, even to school if we can, or we think of an alternative."

"We?" Adele asked faintly.

Arlene sighed. "I haven't been entirely honest with you," she said, toying with her coffee cup. "Many years ago I was involved in something we called back then bitch wrestling. Before you were born. It was a turn on for me and lots of others, seeing small girls half-buried in mud trying to claw and scratch and try to murder each other. It was way more barbaric than the organized fights you've seen. Kidfights are positively civilized compared with those open air sessions. Two naked girls were put into a hole in the ground, it was filled with water to make all turn to mud and the two girls left to fight and claw and kick and bite and try everything they could to win. But then you were born and though I desperately wanted to put you in there, I couldn't do it."

"You were going to make me into a fighter? This... this mud fighter?"

"I was never going to do that to you," Adele put her hand out and patted her daughter's arm. "You weren't going in there, trust me."

"I'm still confused," said Adele. "So you must have seen blood."

"Yeah, lots of it. But it wasn't the fighting that turned me on. That wasn't why I was there." The older woman paused. "It was how we treated the loser."

"Oh God," whispered Adele, suddenly aware of what her mom was going to say.

Arlene took a deep breath. "We took it in turns to shit on the losing girl. She was hauled out of the pit and tied down, or tied up and tossed back in and we all took it in turns to dump on her. And the bitch only got free when she ate some of the shit." Another longer pause, before the woman said. "That was what I loved, seeing the girl eating my shit."

Adele gulped. "So... you want Ursa to eat shit. Your shit."

Arlene sighed and nodded. "Not what you expected, huh? You thought your stupid old mother just liked getting your husband's cock in her, and I'd be happy with that."

"No," said Adele, but she wasn't telling the truth. That was entirely what she thought.

"There's more," said Arlene. "I made a few enquiries, and I have to tell you honey that I know about the gym in Las Vegas. Even spoke on the phone to the woman who runs it, Pam."

"How much do you know?" Gulped Adele.

"I know about the room and the bar next door. I know about the six non-fighting kids in there. I know they have to eat and drink what comes through the wall." She suddenly leaned forward. "So I have a plan, and I want you to hear it. It will take time to implement, but I think we will all benefit."

Adele felt faint and excited and aroused. "Go on, tell me please," she said.

---

It was fair to say that despite the hopes for her, despite the huge amount of training Helen did on Ursa, the child was a disappointment when she went into the kidfight ring for her first real bout. The match was at the home of a wealthy woman, some fifty miles from where Adele's home was, so it was quite an journey to get there. Everyone went, apart from Arlene and the increasingly isolated male of the family, though Yvonne asked that she should go bound and gagged along with Sian. While it was unusual to have the adult attendees at the fight bound and gagged apparently it wasn't entirely unknown. "Some women," said Helen, "prefer to watch in a state of helplessness. It takes all kinds," she smiled and patted the trussed up Yvonne's swollen belly and then tweaked her hard nipples after they had tied the pregnant woman to a chair by the ringside.

Sian, standing next to Yvonne, was also bound but like any girl present and secured standing up. However she was eagerly looking forward to seeing the fight and longed to wish Ursa the best of luck. She even tried to shout encouragement through her gag and only a few glares stopped her: gags, she was informed, were to keep little girls quiet.

Ursa however was looking worried as she got into the ring; she had been paired with a muscular, fat girl who wasn't very mobile but Ursa seemed overawed by the event and in particular by the crowd of seventy women. Helen insisted that if Ursa danced round her opponent, called Marge, then she would win - but the key to it was movement and avoiding the tubby Marge's punches. For some reason Ursa froze as soon as the fight began and having been knocked back on to the electric wire round the ring she staggered from the shock and slipped. With her dropping her guard and forgetting to move, only unconsciousness saved the newcomer from being smashed up even more than she was.

Fortunately it wasn't the only fight on the bill and no one was too bothered by how short it was. On the way home everyone was quiet: the two girls were still tied but for Ursa it was punishment for her below-standard showing. She wouldn't be coming out of her ropes for a while, everyone knew, and she just lay on he floor of the car with her face hidden by bandages. Meanwhile, Helen blamed herself for the debacle:. "I thought she was ready but the electric shock put her off completely. I tried to give her some shocks in training to prepare her but clearly not enough. She forgot everything I taught her once that happened."

"Don't blame yourself," said Adele. "I was happy to see her just fighting, and it was a pretty powerful climax for me when she was knocked out."

"But that wasn't really why we were there," said Helen morosely. "We were there to win. I didn't prepare Ursa enough."

Theresa, who had largely kept quiet because she was driving, said: "It's that dammed diaper, isn't it? She doesn't like it. So either she goes into the totally naked fight game or she has to be plugged up."

Helen nodded. "Plugged may be the only way."

"What exactly," asked Adele, "does that mean?"

"Plugged," explained Theresa, "means the little bitch has an insert in her urinary tract. A sort of catheter. And her asshole is plugged up, so nothing leaks when she fights. No diaper, but no mess."

"Is that possible?" Asked Adele.

"Very," confirmed Helen. "But she may not get to fight in some diaper fights because of the way some contests are billed." She shrugged. "But it may be the answer to her problem."

Adele nodded, and began to play with herself. The thought of Ursa plugged up and unable to piss or shit suddenly seemed very arousing. "I'd like to keep her like that all the time," said Adele, blushing because she couldn't contain her excitement. She glanced at the still gagged Yvonne, whose eyes were shining too. Maybe she wanted that for her Sian too. Like Helen said, it takes all sorts.

---

The anti-piss and non-shit plugs were uncomfortable and Ursa complained, though Sian less so. Their training still involved diapers but not exclusively so, and when naked and just plugged up Ursa did much better than before. In fact she laid Sian out a couple of times and had to be stopped from pounding the helpless younger girl when she had clearly won.

Adele also got her way round the home and Ursa had to be plugged all the time, which enabled the six-year old to get used to them more, and also meant her timing her toilet visits. But Ursa walked a little strangely with the devices in her, and Adele worried again.

The mother approached Mrs Norton, who was Ursa's class teacher, when she was on her own to explain that Ursa might look uncomfortable and walk awkwardly because, she said, their family doctor had insisted on some "correctional devices to help the girl's toilet problems." Given that Miss Norton had never seen any sign of difficulties with the girl, she was curious. She explained that she had no problem with children sent to school with some sort of plug in them; apparently, said the forty year old woman, a good number of moms liked to have their girls plugged for so called correctional reasons.

Adele was astonished. "You mean, they are prevented from... from..." She hesitated, Mrs Norton was a formidable looking but rather prim woman and not the sort who seemed at ease with lewd phrases.

But she was more than comfortable. "You mean to stop them shitting or pissing," she said without a flicker of disapproval in her voice or look of distaste on her face. "Of course. Forgive me, but sometimes the little bitches need to be prevented from doing all sorts of things."

Ursa's mother gulped. This was not what she expected. "You mean, some of the girls in the class are like Ursa?"

"Not quite," grinned the middle-aged woman. "Ursa is the only one who goes in for kidfights as far as i know."

"You know?" Adele's mouth sagged open. Did they have any secrets left?

"Your daughter has been punched a few times: I can tell when she gets back into class some Monday mornings. She looks like she has been beaten up pretty well. She got a sparring partner, or she into the full kidfight game."

Adele gulped again. "Both, now. She fought the other day and lost badly. That's why we need her plugged." She couldn't believe she was saying all this.

Mrs Norton nodded. "Good," she said. "In which case she can carry on. To be honest, your daughter is a nice enough kid but if she were mine..." The woman paused.

"Go on," said Adele, heart beating harder.

"I'd keep her all tied up and beat her myself," said the teacher.

"What?"

"I understand there are kidfights, and women who get off on seeing girls beat each other up," said the imposing woman. "I don't subscribe personally. But my thing is beating up the kids myself." She shrugged, as if it was just one of those things. "One or two of the moms here understand that and lend me their girls from time to time."

"Who?" asked Adele, feeling faint.

"Little Lexi Cowper for one, I am sure you have seen her."

Adele nodded. Lexi Cowper was a lovely, almost doll-like little girl with pale skin and nearly white hair. She looked small and frail as it was. The thought of her being tied and beaten by her teacher made Adele want to clutch her cunt. "You... you go and hurt her?" It seemed a pointless question but the teacher nodded.

"Make her quite a mess, yeah," said the woman. "If you like, you can watch me and her. I am due a session with Lexi this weekend in fact, over at my place. So want to watch what a woman can do to a child for a change? It's pretty brutal."

"Oh God, yes," gasped Adele, her hand up her skirt again.

"Good," said the woman. "Here, let me do that," she said and put her hand up Adele's skirt. "I am sure you wouldn't mind fingering me if while do it to you."

"Not at all," moaned Adele. She even didn't mind Mrs Norton putting her fat tongue in her mouth, either. Life, she concluded, was getting so much better every day.

Chapter 6

Mrs Norton was dressed only in her underwear, which in itself surprised Adele. She had assumed the middle-aged teacher only wore skirts and blouses, or perhaps plain dresses. Probably lived in them, Adele might have thought. Slept in them too for all she knew. But the sight of the woman in her black lace long line bra and hi-sided panties - one with a control panel at the front to keep her belly under control - took Adele a little by surprise. Somehow she never thought exciting lingerie was ever part of this mature woman's life.

Adele was still faintly surprised, despite everything that had happened to her, to discover sex and sensuality was part of women's lives. How naive she had been, thinking women were only what you saw on the outside. But then that was all her life was - an outer experience - until she discovered Kidfights. It was an a thought that tended to occupy Adele's mind more and more but she knew that until Helen had bedded her in Vegas, she had no concept of being attracted to women and couldn't be aware of their capacity to be intimate.

Now though, Ursa's once-staid mother at least knew far more about such matters. Not only she had climaxed on Helen's fingers (many times, as it happened, since they had become virtually partners) but also cum delightfully on the skilled fingertips of Mrs Norton - and in an empty classroom at that.

Still, thinking of the teacher beating on a child had made her incredibly hot, and she had made time to visit with the teacher at her home on Saturday morning. That was when she saw Mrs Norton - and bizarrely still didn't know her first name - in her clearly expensive underwear. For various reasons people were all away from Adele's home so the opportunity was perfect for this visit. Adele however was intrigued by how good the older woman looked, and felt her cunt heat up at the unexpected sight.

"You're early," said Mrs Norton, letting Adele in to her home. There was no sign of a Mr Norton, but then she had noticed that the teacher didn't wear a wedding band. The teacher's comfortable house was quiet and the woman clearly had no problem in walking round in just her underwear. She also wore spiked high heels and they made the older woman's strong legs seem even more powerful. Adele felt quite light headed as she watched the woman move, saw the light gleam on the older woman's strong thighs and calfs.

"Should I take my clothes off too?" Adele asked, blushing a little at the idea. She wasn't sure why she should say this but it seemed the correct thing to do.

"Up to you," smiled Mrs Norton. "I will be busy so I won't be looking."

On impulse Adele decided she would strip to her pink lace trimmed panties and her matching pink bra. In a way she felt better for being so lightly dressed. "Do I look okay?" She asked, slightly anxious that Mrs Norton shouldn't be displeased.

"Fine my dear. My other guests won't be here for a few minutes, but this is where I beat on little Lexi." The woman led Adele through to what might normally have been a large dining room. Instead it was room stripped of furniture save for a single upright pole in the center of the room and several tall, upright but narrow cages stood round the walls. "Lexi and me will be here," said the teacher, indicating the pole, which Adele noted was not only thick and with straps hanging from it at various points, but was set into the floor on what looked an incredibly powerful spring. "You and the other guests will be in the cages. Two to a cage, I have to say," added Mrs Norton.

"Why?"

"Because there is quite an audience for these little events," said the teacher. "I have to double up or else-'

"No, I mean why the cages? I wouldn't interfere."

"I am sure you wouldn't dare, but ti's an old pleasure of mine. I like the mom of the girl I am punishing to be caged and watching, so if I cage everyone then there is no favoritism." Mrs Norton grinned. "Plus I can imagine that way you are all somehow concerned relatives. eager to be here but equally wanting to get out and save the poor child."

"Uh, will we be gagged?" Adele gulped.

"That's your choice. I do prefer my watchers to be quiet so the only noise should the sound of my fists, me cussing and of course the girl crying and screaming, but I trust you to be quiet while I'm busy."

"You said girls. Is Lexi the only one you hit?" It was a stupid question really, Adele thought.

Mrs Norton obviously thought so too. "Good heavens no! What ever gave you that idea? When I hit a girl like Lexi she will be badly hurt, and have to be off school for at least a week. Though I do favor girls who heal quickly, I admit I do need to get my 'fix' as it were more often than once every four months. Lexi is beaten three times a year, so in between I arrange for other girls to be here from time to time." As she spoke Mrs Norton punched the palm of one hand with her other fist, and Adele blinked at the noise it made. "Share and share alike," she chuckled.

"I see." Adele nodded. "Which cage do I go in?"

"I think you should be in this one," the woman patted the first cage. "You will share with my neighbor, old Miss Hutchings. She's seventy now but loves these little shows. I am sure she will appreciate a younger woman in her bra and panties pressed up against her."

Adele stared: the cages were narrow, so two people in there would be pretty intimate. She also noticed there were a couple of small cages just big enough for a dog. Mrs Norton saw Adele looking and offered an explanation. "Oh those... They are reserved for any kids who get brought along. There will be at least one child in there, possibly two."

Adele's cunt was for some reason burning hotter. "Caged children? How wonderful," she said, her voice almost cracking with excitement. "Do you ever want to beat on those?"

Mrs Norton laughed. "My, you are a fucking filthy perverted bitch aren't you? Well, sometimes their disgusting mom will let a little one out and I like to kick them some. Nothing as severe as Lexi, but a little slapping helps me cool down."

"Oh God," sighed Adele. "Are ... are all moms this disgusting?" Adele was feeling fresh waves of lust mounting in her.

"Filthy cunts like you and that mother of the brat Cowper? Why yes, of course, bitch." Mrs Norton seemed different now, her tone more severe. "Your sniveling kind make me want to puke. You breed little brats without permission, drag them into the world because you were fucked by some stupid man's cock, and then start moaning about how hard it is, how much work it takes. What you neeeed!" Mrs Norton had put on a mock whine at that point. "Think of meeee! And the kids are just like their stupid mothers. The fuck-kids just shit and piss and throw up and behave badly. Like their fucking useless moms."

Adele gulped at the tirade, feeling that old familiar tremble in her, a burning in her cunt. "So please... should moms be punished?" Her voice was weak.

Mrs Norton laughed. "Shit, yes." She leaned in to Adele and punched her in the belly. The shocked younger woman crumpled to the floor, clutching her stomach and gasping for breath. "I didn't tell you, did I?" Said the teacher standing over Adele, lying sobbing in the fetal position. "I also like beating on stupid whore moms."

"Moms like me," Gasped Adele, tears in her eyes. She felt incredibly aroused and scared at the same time.

"Just like you," said the teacher with a sneer. She leaned over Adele and spat on her, her saliva splattering Adele's face. "Exactly like you, bitch cunt."

"Oh God," moaned Adele, not daring to wipe the spit off her face. "Please... May I cum now?"

The woman snorted a laugh and put the heel of one of her shoes on one of Adele's tits. "No," she said, with a smirk. "I cum in my house because I am in charge, but bitches like you you don't."

"Yes, of course," sobbed Adele. She felt like her daughter must have felt when beaten. The pain and the weird delight that she had been bettered - and battered. She also felt aroused and yearned to finger herself. But this punishment was deserved, she knew. She was being treated like this because of the shit she was. She had brought Ursa into the world because of one night of drunken carelessness with her husband's best friend, Cal, and now she was going to be punished for the filthy whore she was. Adele bit her lip. "You know, don't you?"

"That the little bitch Ursa isn't yours?" The older woman laughed and pressed her heel more into Adele's already hurting tit. "Yeah, everyone does. It's pretty obvious your husband ain't the father, though he's probably never noticed. Or if he has, he doesn't care."

"Please," said Adele, realizing that was probably why Kelvin spent so little time with Ursa: she wasn't his but he accepted her presence. "I'm sorry."

"You will be, you filthy fuck whore," said Mrs Norton. "From now on you will do exactly as I say." She paused and pressed even more with her heel, ignoring Adele's scream of pain. "Do I make myself clear, bitch?"

"Oh God, yes," moaned Adele between her tears.

"Can you see my cunt from down there?" Mrs Norton was right over Adele now, and she hooked the crotch of her panties to one side. Her fat, full and wet cunt lips sprang into view, even though there was a near forest of black and gray pubic hair.

"I see it," whispered Adele. "And it's going to piss on me, isn't it?"

"If you say please."

"Please," gasped Adele, and took the full force of the yellow jet in her face, with mouth open as a whore should do. Grateful to be used.

---

From the cage, pressed against the skinny seventy year old woman, Adele's view was astonishing. She could see the teacher in her black bra and panties circling the heavily starpped doll that was the lovely little Lexi Cowper. The little girl was naked an tightly fastened to the pole - the woman had taken her time securing the little girl so she was pressed with back to the pole in the middle of the room - and the child was whimpering and fighting back tears, even though she hadn't been hit yet. In fact, she was probably crying because she knew full well what was coming, how it would hurt. Every sob made the spring-held pole tremble and move, making her a sort of moving target. The child's tormentor - for that was what Mrs Norton was - wore black leather gloves and she was in the same sort of boxing position that Adele had seen Ursa and all the other kidfighters adopt.

Ready to punch, ready to inflict pain.

But Mrs Norton was taking her time. She had earlier forced several women into the row of cages while Lexi stood to attention fastened by the web of straps to the pole, including one tight round her slim throat, watching among others her mother being pushed into a cage along with a rather fat woman so Mrs Cowper was pressed hard against the bars and unable to move. The cage mesh was already digging deep into Lexi's mother's helpless, trapped body and face, and all Mrs Cowper could do was moan and gasp for air. She looked in agony, and Adele wondered why she did this. But then, why did so many women do all this? It was sex, obviously, and the feelings and desires were far too powerful to ignore.

Only one of the small "dog" cages was occupied and that was by a pretty little girl aged no more than four, if that. She was the mixed-race daughter of a black woman who arrived with her twin sister, and once the dyed-blonde-haired child was crouched in her little locked cage her mother and aunt were obliged to share a cage. They looked pretty happy about it too and were kissing as much as watching events through the bars of their cage. With hands jammed between each other's legs, they were ignoring their whimpering cunt of a daughter and niece.

It sounded as if the child knew all too well what was coming to her as she crouched in her cage.

Adele wasn't sure about sharing with Mrs Norton's neighbor, Lilibeth Hutchings, especially as the old crow had one hand forced down inside Adele's pink panties as was chuckling as she worked her scrawny long fingers up into Adele's sopping wet cunt. If it had been Helen trapped in there with her then Adele would have been delighted, but this old woman was anything but attractive and she had demanded that her long, floppy tits were fondled by her younger cage-mate. At least as much as Adele could in the confined space.

More, the old woman's breath stank and Adele felt nauseous. But she had no choice but to take in what the old cow breathed out.

Without warning Mrs Norton jabbed the first punch. It was perfectly aimed and caught the bound Lexi right on the point of her cute nose, making the child yelp. A spot of blood ran from one nostril. "Did that hurt, cunt?" Mrs Norton demanded as the little girl wobbled on the pole, rolling and yawing like a toy clown on its round base.

"Yes ma'am," sniffed the child, tears already running. "T-thank you."

"Good, you filthy little shit of cunt bitch," said Mrs Norton. "You deserve this pain."

The child nodded unhappily in response.

And so it went, slowly and painfully. Every carefully considered punch from Mrs Norton had to be thanked. Some hit the child's body, some hit her face, some from the side were on her thin, strapped down arms. Bruises were springing up and blood running from the girl's nose and lips, but each punch was tearfully, painfully thanked. If the fastened down little bitch didn't say it loudly enough, maybe through crying, she had to repeat her thanks, more loudly.

And each blow set the pole moving more, making an ideal moving target for Mrs Norton - though she hardly ever missed.

Adele shot a look sideways (as best she could, considering Lilibeth was now trying to kiss the younger woman she was pressed against) and she could see that Lexi's mom was desperately trying to get her trapped hand to her own slit. But the total lack of space and the way she was penned to the cage side meant she simply couldn't. The wire was cutting into Mrs Cowper's tits and one hard nipple peeped tantalizingly out. Adele almost felt sorry for the mother, unable to finger herself to orgasm, but then Adele remembered what Mrs Norton had said: these moms were bitches, and didn't deserve anything good. Mothers like her and Mrs Cowper and even the smug black whore in another cage were stupid mothers, and that meant punishment.

"Kiss me," said stinky-breath Lilibeth. Adele almost said: you should be watching the fight. But first of all it wasn't a fight and secondly, what choice did she have? She turned her head and felt the older woman's creased, thin lips against hers, a tongue poking into her own mouth. Adele felt hot. More, she could hear the teacher cussing and swearing, heard the slap of the punch on the strapped down child (and heard the heavy spring creak and groan as it was forced into action) and of course heard both howls of pain and thanks from the battered Lexi.

Lilibeth was fingering Adele hard. brutally, as if she didn't care if Adele was pleasured or not. "Like this, you filthy whore?" Asked the old crow.

Perhaps it was hearing the small girl thanking her teacher, but Adele couldn't help herself respond: "Thank you, yes."

"I think I will own you," said the old woman as she bit on Adele's offered tongue. "Seems the best thing for a shit like you."

"Um, yes, of course," moaned Adele. She wanted to get back to watching Mrs Norton punch the helpless child, but Lilibeth was demanding attention. Adele could tell that Mrs Norton was punching harder now, stepping up the pace and power. but she couldn't get to look and she felt so frustrated.

"Good, I'm so glad you're learning to behave" said the old woman with a cackle. The laugh made her breath smell even more disgusting, and Adele felt her climax build at the unexpected thought of being made to clean the old woman's yellow teeth with her tongue, licking any half-chewed food off them, smelling Lilibeth's foul breath. It was such an unexpected thought that Adele gave a gasp as he cunt tingled fiercely. Was this what her future was? And if so, what about Ursa and Helen and everyone else? What about all the Kidfights she was going to attend? "Oh God," she moaned as she started to cum. "Please... I have a daughter who needs-"

A wet, sloppy and revolting kiss from Lilibeth stopped any chance of conversation, and the old woman's fingers forced up harder into Adele. Only when the old crow was satisfied that Adele had climaxed did she permit Adele to look back at the middle of the room. Look back at what had become an incessant torrent of punched, right and left, at the helpless girl.

But the child could take no more. Lexi was hanging, as good as unconscious, in her straps on a motionless pole. Blood ran from her small, once pretty but now battered face, mixing with tears and snot. She wasn't thanking her teacher any more because she was barely aware of anything. There were big bruises all over her slender body, and blood ran over the straps, dripping on to the floor by the heavy spring. Mrs Norton was screaming obscenities at the child, glove off her right hand and fingering herself hard. In the other cages, women were moaning and crying and gasping as they came too as best they could. It's over, thought Adele, and I missed some of it.

But the event wasn't over. Mrs Norton suddenly went to the small occupied dog cage and dragged out the little mixed-race girl. The child was sobbing and begging and calling for her mommy but her mommy was calling her child names, telling her to "fucking well behave." Her aunt was shouting too, things like: "Go on: beat the lil bitch up."

And that was precisely what the teacher did. First a kick that sent the small girl flying across the room, then bending over the tiny figure she aimed her punches well. The small girl was free to get up and try to run (though Adele doubted there was any place to run to) but the child huddled in a sobbing, squealing ball, and more punches rained in. Then Mrs Norton in a fit of rage hauled the child up by her dyed blonde hair and delivered one last, hard punch to the little child's face.

It was lights out for the poor girl, and Mrs Norton dropped the bloodied and silent child to the floor as she finished herself off with a loud yell of deep satisfaction.

Adele was being kissed again and fingered hard by Lilibeth, and she was cumming once more and she didn't care about anything now. Not even the old woman's bad breath and scraggy tits. She had witnessed the most vile thing ever, was doing the most revolting thing imaginable, and she was more than glad.

Life was changing again for Adele and she moaned her thanks to whoever was listening.

Copyright 2009, Midwych. All rights Reserved
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