Your family had always been avid watchers of what other humans would consider violent blood-sports. Modern cage fighting is an art, especially when you’re dealing with someone whose major mode of fighting is submissions and takedowns. There’s something incredibly thrilling about it, and considering they’re two consenting, sapient adults there’s nothing you feel guilty about when it comes to watching them fight each other.
Your sister-in-law, your brother’s wife, was having her first professional bout. She had started working at a BJJ gym when she moved to your city during college, before she ever met your brother. It isn’t that she had ever thought this is where her life would take her, she started taking classes in fact as a mode of self defense and a healthy physical outlet. Her being good at it came as a complete surprise to even herself.
Your brother was out of town on a business trip, a sad fact of life considering his profession and position within the company where he worked. Finance could be time consuming and thankless, but the paycheck he got from his work meant that Liz could pursue her new dream of going pro. As her sister now, and considering you’d always wanted a sister growing up, you took it upon yourself to support her whenever your brother couldn’t. You’d go to her bouts, cheer her on, go drinking when she won and when she lost, iced her bruises. You loved her like a true sibling.
So, when your brother couldn’t make her first big fight, you were incredibly flattered when she asked if you’d join her instead. You donned the tee shirt she had made for the fight with her fighter name on it and some sponsors, made sure you looked presentable enough for when you’ll inevitably wind up on camera with her, and settled in for the evening. Your day started hours before the doors opened, helping her get in the right headspace with music and jokes, helping her stretch out, keeping her calm and centered.
When the two of you made the trip over to the venue, a huge arena where the local professional basketball and hockey teams played, you were surprised to see people already waiting outside by the athlete’s entrance. You guessed they were hoping to catch a glimpse of the big names, but you knew enough about how these things were run to know that they wouldn’t arrive until at least a few fights into the undercard.
Liz’s fight was second to last on the undercard, so the house would likely be packed by that point. You didn’t know whether to be thankful or not, her placement on the card meant that more people would see her fight and therefore if she’s good enough in the cage tonight she’d get more followers and her pro career would start off on a great note. That being said, the performance anxiety of your first fight is hard enough you’d assume, if the way she’s been acting the last week is any indication, so making it harder on her by adding the pressure of a bunch of drunk, judgemental attendees doesn’t seem like it would be great.
The two of you traverse the back hallways, with passes that get you into the behind the scenes staging area. As one of the few women fighting tonight she was given a semi-private area to warm up and keep limber. All four of the undercard women were in the visitor’s locker room, although there had been privacy created with the use of moving screens that the maintenance crew had set up to create some relatively spacious individual cubicles. There was one main card title fight between two women, an orc defending her middleweight belt for the twelfth consecutive time and an upcoming athlete from Russia who was undefeated, those two each got their own private warmup space same as the men on the main card.
The two of you were the first ones here from Liz’s crew, a fact which amped her up and not in the good way. “Marcos said he’d be here at three, fuck me it’s already three fifteen, come on.” You pull her into a hug, smoothing your hands over the french-braided pigtails you’d helped her with earlier.
“Relax, sis, just relax. You know how the trains are at this time of year, if he isn’t here in the next twenty minutes I’ll call over to the gym and ask when he left, deal?” She huffs but nods against your shoulder, hugging you back. “Breathe with me, okay? Easy in, and out, nice and slow. You’ve got this, you’re going to go out there and kick some serious ass, and then we’re going to sit in our nice ring seats and celebrate by getting obliterated on vodka and soda like a normal Friday night.”
The laugh she gives you, shoving you away playfully, is what you were going for. “If you think I’m paying for the expensive garbage vodka they have here you’re out of your fucking mind.” You scoffed and rolled your eyes, pulling up the side of your tee shirt to show a large-ish hip flask, the one she gifted you when she asked you to be a bridesmaid.
“We’ll have to supplement it with a few expensive drinks, so we don’t raise too many eyebrows, but you know me better than that by now.” She reaches for it and you swat at her hand, wagging your finger in her face like a caricature of a mother. “No, bad Lizzy, no drinking before fighting.” She pouts at you and you can only laugh at her. “How mature, which one of us is older again?”
“Yeah yeah, I hate when you’re right. At least give me some water, you don’t want me in there all dehydrated. Help, I’m wasting away right before your eyes, dying of thirst.” She’s comically flopped across her bench, arm slung across her face in despair. The ‘oof’ she gives when you gently lob her water bottle at her stomach makes your snort out a laugh.
“Come on, don’t abuse my fighters before their bout.” Your shoulder is clapped by a huge hand and you turn to find the bright smile of Marcos, Liz’s coach, and his brother Julian her cutman. Her third corner man won’t be joining you until closer to fight time, coming from his normal day job to help out in her corner as he does in their training ring. Marcos and Julian are both objectively incredibly handsome men, if a little rough from years of fighting experience. Tall Brazilian walls of muscle, with tan skin and long curly black hair. Julian would probably be considered better looking, if only because Marcos has some serious cauliflower ear going and one broken nose that wasn’t quite set properly. They’re both quite tall and fit, but not really your type considering they’re packing some equipment you’re not into using.
Marcos gives you a serious look, but still warm. “You’ve done a good job keeping her head clear and relaxed today, thank you.” Liz is busy chatting with Julian and getting properly stretched out, and Marcos keeps his voice quiet enough that they don’t overhear. “It’s going to make tonight go much smoother if we can help her focus on the fight and not everything surrounding it, so thank you.” You just blush and smile, waving it off.
“She’s my sister, I love her, I want her to go out there and kick some ass. So, anything I can do to help I’m happy.” He beams at you, patting your cheek with almost fatherly affection.
“Good, you remind me of my brother. We’ll have to start training you to be in the corner with us if you can keep her this calm on a big fight day.” You laugh, but when he declares he’s serious answer back that you’re absolutely willing, but today is not the day to start.
The next few hours are a blur of keeping Liz distracted enough that she can slip into her fight-brain as she calls it, and before you know it you’re place in ringside seats reserved for families to watch the bouts waiting for her entrance song. At the first few bars of ‘Knights of Cydonia’ you stand up and start to cheer. You’ve got your cell phone out and recording, knowing she’s going to want to see later, and you go wild as she finally steps out onto the arena floor and makes her way towards the cage. She ignores you as she passes, but you don’t take it personally knowing that she’s got tunnel vision for the door.
Her opponent Bryn is currently 1-1, a half-orc from a relatively prominent gym in a neighboring state. She looks intimidating, considering she’s a few inches taller that your sister in law, but where Liz isn’t as tall she’s consideribly stockier, and their reach is surprisingly near equal in terms of measurements.
You’re sure the referee for Liz’s bout is a half-dwarf, if the insanely impressive braided beard down to his navel is anything to go by. When his hand goes down between the fighters, Liz and Bryn tap gloves before getting into their stances. It’s a few seconds of sizing each other up before Bryn goes in, closing the gap. She sends out a pretty telegraphed jab and Liz blocks it without trouble, answering with a blow to Bryn’s ribs that connects. Grasping the back of Bryn’s head, Liz tugs down to force Bryn’s face to meet Liz’s knee.
When Bryn’s head pops back up she’s sporting a cut on her nose, and she’s starting to leak blood down her cheek. She grimaces at Liz and snarls, you suppose it’s meant to intimidate her but she obviously doesn’t know Liz very well. Liz just roars right back and goes in for a takedown.
Bryn, you suppose, is a striker, if her lack of takedown defense is anything to go by. When Liz goes for her leg Bryn is a step too slow to dodge, and goes down like a sack of bricks onto the canvas. You cheer loudly “‘atta girl!” and watch with rapt attention as Liz locks her legs around Bryn’s arm. The grip she has on Bryn’s hand and the way she tugs forces Bryn’s elbow back over Liz’s hip. Bryn taps, the bell rings. You scream. Victory by submission in the first round, not even a minute in. You’re almost cackling with joy as Liz does a celebratory lap around the ring before being hoisted up by her coach.
She thanks you in her post fight interview, and you look like a deer in the headlights when a camera gets trained on you and you’re up on the jumbo-tron. Oh god, not like this. You smile a little shyly and give an awkward wave before the feed cuts back to your sister in law and you can relax. When she leaves the ring she grabs you from the seat and pulls you back with them. “Holy shit!” That’s about all the two of you can say for the next few minutes as you help her untape her hands and brush out her hair. She’s changed into more normal clothes and the two of you are back out at your seats for the main card fights just as they’re announcing the winner of the final undercard bout.
“You were great out there, good fight. You locked in that arm bar quick like nobody’s business, that’s a natural talent.” You watch as your sister in law starts to converse with arguably the most gorgeous orc woman you’ve ever seen. She’s tall just sitting, you don’t even want to hazard a guess at how tall she is standing. Her long hair is side shaved, and pushed over the top of her head to expose the bare side and her pointy ear. The cauliflower ear tells you she’s a fighter even before you notice how incredibly muscular she is. She’s broad with huge biceps and traps, her breasts are a bit small for her frame and she hasn’t bothered with implants, and you want to know if she has abs. You bet she does. She and Liz are talking shop, and you’re trying not to stare at this hot, hot orc. Liz glances at you knowingly, she knows your type, and snags her arm around your shoulders to pull you in over her, introducing you.
“Ushat, this is my sister in law and constant cheer section.” You introduce yourself by name to Ushat, and she shakes your hand with her huge and calloused one. She looks like she’s blushing a little when you two make eye contact, so you try to hit her with your sweetest and most affectionate smile, the one that’s melted more than a few hearts in your time.
“It’s really nice to meet you Ushat.” She’s definitely blushing now, but she smiles at you gently.
“If you two want to hold hands you could just say so and switch seats with me.” Liz smirks at you, and the two of you just now realize how long you’ve been shaking hands for. You both pull away like the other one is on fire, cheeks hot and stuttering out apologies. “So Ushat here is the current women’s heavyweight champ.” You stare over at her with wonder, which makes the green in her cheeks get darker as she blushes harder.
“Ah, yeah, y’know. Been fightin’ for a loooong time. Kinda orcish culture. I’m impressed your sister here was able to take down that half orc so handily. I think my kind tend to underestimate humans because some of you are very cute and small.” She smiles a little at you, her impressive tusks flashing in the low light of the arena. Liz, for what it’s worth, looks incredibly smug. Self-satisfied barely begins to describe it, she’s been talking about setting you up on a date for a long time but this kind of takes the cake.
“Alright ladies, I’m going to get a round of drinks. You two be sitting next to each other when I get back or no more flirting, I don’t want to be between the two of you anyway ‘m gonna get diabetes, you’ll ruin my career before it’s even started.” She’s jokingly frustrated and shoves the side of your face with the kind of aggressive affection only a sibling can manage.
Ushat is still blushing a dark green, her lightly mossy skin made dark emerald with it. She slings one of her huge arms over the back of the now vacant chair where Liz had been sitting. With her free hand she gestures a little shyly at the now free seat, looking satisfied if a little surprised when you blushingly sidle up next to her. Your thigh is soft compared to hers, you’re pretty sure anyone is soft compared to her considering how close she’s pressed against you. The way her stance widens in the chair ensures that you’re pressed together from knee to hip, and she even relaxes her posture some to press up against your side, your shoulder neatly tucked underneath her arm, your head slotting onto her shoulder like you two were made for each other.
Liz’s grin goes almost impossibly wide as she sees the two of you while walking back. She doesn’t say anything though, knowing how shy you and Ushat have been so far in your interactions she doesn’t want to run the risk of scaring you two apart. So she passes the drinks around instead and proposes a toast to new friends, the little eyebrow waggle at the end she just could repress. You snort a little laugh into your cup but take a deep drink, sighing at the light burn of the double pour. “The bartender gave us an extra pour on top because of how badass I was.” Liz preens, and Ushat gives her a proud grin.
“Rudolf doesn’t do that for just anyone, so you’ve made a good impression. Unsurprising! That fight really was great.” The two continue to talk shop over you, but you can’t find it in you to mind too much. You enjoy listening to the deep timbre of Ushat’s voice, and before you know it you’ve finished your drink, topped off by a healthy pour from the flask at your side, and snuggled further into the warm side of the orc next to you. When they announce the first fight and the first of the two fighters starts to walk out to their music Ushat begins clapping. She doesn’t pull away from you though, or remove her arm, no she crosses her other arm in front of you to basically pull you into an embrace. She isn’t giving thunderous applause, just enough to be polite, but it does pull you further against her to the point that you have to brace yourself up with a hand on her side.
When she stops applauding after the second fighter has made it to the ring you don’t make any moves to pull back. You keep yourself snuggled into her side, one hand resting on her firm stomach while your head is leaned fully against her shoulder. You’re definitely getting past the tipsy stage and into the drunk stage, if how affectionate you’re feeling is anything to go by. The arm Ushat has behind you shifts so that you’re corralled in the crook of her elbow while her hand lifts to thread her fingers in your hair. She smiles down at you, and you can only grin back up at her.
The night is kind of a blur, although you and Ushat have gotten to know each other better. Sometime around the fourth bout of the main card they announce that she’s in the arena, and she’s thrown up on the jumbotron with you still tucked into her arm. While the majority of you is cut out of the main shot, the camera does manage to catch her pressing a kiss to the crown of your head when she thinks they’ve cut away.
It’s late by the time the fights are over, the orc having successfully defended her belt once again and declaring herself the greatest. Ushat is pleased, passing on her congratulations in orcish with her arm still around you as the fighter passes by. When she stands for the first time that night you realize how huge she really is, the top of your head just barely reaches her clavicle. She laughs loudly, palming your head and tugging you close again. “You’re so dainty!” She sounds amused, pulling your hand up against hers and holding them palm to palm the tips of your fingers only reaching the first knuckle of hers. “Look! I can almost close my hand!”
It’s such a smooth move you don’t actually recognize it for what it is until the day after, and when she does in fact close her hand she laces her fingers through yours. She tugs you around and you follow without protest, her and Liz having become fast friends and Ushat taking Liz to meet some promoters and sponsors. You feel a bit like arm candy, the conversation mostly above you but you’re happy that Ushat and Liz want you there with them. It’s nearly five in the morning when you all leave and the three of you are sufficiently trashed. The stumble back to your apartment is a short three blocks, and Liz takes the pull out couch as she’s used to.
You’ve stripped off your jeans and shirt, your bra undone and halfway off you when Ushat walks into your room having come out of the bathroom. You freeze with your bra pressed up against your breasts by your hands but otherwise unsecured, and you can’t help staring at how much smooth and scarred green skin she’s showing. She’s in a skimpy spaghetti strap tank top and black bikini cut panties. The grin she fixes you with is sultry, her dark eyes burning. “Don’t stop on my account kitten.” Her eyes rake over your bare legs and the way your panties hug your form, lingering on the softness of your stomach before moving up your neck to your blushing face.
You bite your lower lip in contemplation before slowly lowering your hands and letting you bra drop to the floor. Ushat lets out a low and pleasure growl, almost humming. She stalks up to you, towering over you and gripping your chin between her thumb and forefinger. She stoops down to kiss you, and with a satisfied moan you slip your hands up her chest and over her shoulders to cling to her. Her huge hands caress up the back of your thighs and she takes advantage of your distraction to pick you up and toss you on the bed. She’s hypnotized by the way your breasts bounce as you settle on the mattress, and she brings her hands up to cup them. Thumbing over your nipples she grins as you let out a whine of pleasure.
Ushat kisses you again, and the smooth cool surface of her tusks pressed against your soft cheeks. You surprise her by swiping your tongue along her lower lip first, and she opens her mouth to meet your tongue with her own. They caress each other, rather than wrestling for dominance, and when you lay back and allow her to explore your pliant mouth she knows it’s willing and not coerced.
One of her hands continues to grope and your breasts sloppily, moving back and forth with her attention as her other hand pushes down your stomach and under your panties. You tug your lips from hers to throw back your head and cry out for her. “Fuck, Ushat!” She chuckles huskily against your neck when you cry out for her.
“That’s the idea kitten, don’t worry ‘m’gonna take good care of you.” When her fingers push between your labia she finds you already wet and waiting, and she snarls against your neck. “Fuck baby, you been ready for me all night haven’tcha?” She bites down on your shoulder, chuckling again as your hips buck up into her hand. “Ushat knows whatcha want baby, I gotcha.” One of her thick, calloused fingers slowly pushes into your waiting pussy. She groans at how hot and tight you feel around just one of her fingers. “Fuck baby, you got a real tight pussy, gonna stretch you out nice and good.” She licks up your neck wetly, biting harshly at your earlobe as she pushes a second finger into you, angling her hand to rub your clit with her thumb. You let out a broken cry, tugging at her shirt in order to press against her skin on skin.
In order to avoid having to stop fingering you, she just tears off her shirt, leaving the tatters on the floor nearby as she smashes her lips against yours again. Your hands grope at her strong back and shoulders before moving around to her front, skimming up to palm her small breasts. Her dark nipples are begging for your mouth, and as if she knows what you’re thinking she shifts her position just enough to be leaning completely above you, fingers pumping in and out of your soaking pussy. She groans when you lift your head enough to take one of her nipples in your mouth, sucking gently and flicking your tongue over the hardened bud.
She moves so her hips are just above yours, her legs splayed between yours and wrapped around your own so that you couldn’t close them even if you wanted to. She slowly leans down until you’re completely flush with her, held in control as she fingers your eager pussy. She has you pinned with her weight to the point where you can do literally nothing but moan and accept whatever it is she wants to give you. The broken sob of her name as she presses a third of her impossibly thick fingers inside of you makes her laugh, satisfied. She kisses the crown of your head, whispering praises. “Don’t worry baby, we’ll stop here for tonight, but eventually that cute little human pussy of yours is going to take my whole hand.” The way you twitch around her at the words makes her chuckle against your hair. “You like that thought huh kitten? At least this needy pussy of yours does.” She shoves her fingers in particularly harshly, making you moan and your eyes roll back in your head.
She starts rubbing her thumb over your clit again, and your walls begin to flutter with the stimulation. “That’s it kitten, cum for me, gonna make you feel so good baby, that’s it.” You’re panting under her, trying to writhe or buck your hips or do literally anything, but Ushat just chuckles at your shifting muscles pinned under hers. “No baby just take it, you’re gonna take what I give you kitten. Be a good girl and cum for me.”
The way she growls that last sentence in your ear, paired with the endless stimulation of your clit and those thick rough fingers inside you, takes you over the edge. You cry out her name and tense underneath her, muscles screaming to contract or do anything. All your body can focus on is the feeling between your legs, considering it can’t do anything else with its excess energy. You can’t believe when you squirt against her hand, but she just gives a satisfied growl and slowly brings you back down to earth.
You’re half asleep by the time your heart rate calms down, and you notice Ushat is trying to climb out of bed. You pout up at her sleepily, grabbing her huge wrist. “Stay? Please? I know this was fast but I was kinda hoping you’d stick around.” She just grins at you, using her cleaner hand to thumb your cheek with open affection.
“Just gettin you a towel, kitten. Gotta clean you up.” She wanders half naked into the bathroom and brings back a damp hand towel to wipe up between your thighs, gently cleaning your labia with the warm cloth. She tosses the towel across the room into your laundry hamper and crawls back into the bed behind you. She pulls you back against her chest, wrapping you up in her warm embrace and burying her nose in your hair at the crown of your head.
You aren’t sure when you fell asleep, quickly seems to be the answer. You wake up to your bed shaking, and you whimper and cling closer to the pillow that seems to be jumping. It calms down slightly, still vibrating but less destructive. “Sorry kitten, go back to sleep.” You crack open an eye and glance up at just the right time to get a kiss on the forehead from Ushat, who stayed the full night with you.
She’s on her Instagram, posting a picture of the two of you from last night along with Liz. “Whatcha doin’?” Your sleepy voice makes her smile gently.
“Gettin’ some damage control done. I’m not about to have people accusing me of being ashamed of my girlfriend.” She flicks over to an article on some MMA site where the still of her placing a kiss to your head ringside is front and center. ‘Ushat Cruelbeast Spotted Getting Cozy With Fighter’s Sister!’ is the headline, and you snort. Really? So uncreative. “I like you, a lot, I want to date you. I don’t want people thinking I’m just using you to get under some other figher’s skin. Which is fucking ridiculous by the way, I mean we’re not even close to the same weight class and never will be, so why would I be dating you to get under the skin of a figher I’d never fight? Fuckin’ hetero dudes can’t fathom why a human girl might want to date a big scary orc girl. Or why a girl would want to date another girl at all really.”
Your laugh makes her laugh, and the two of you are cracking up in bed. It takes a few minutes to calm down and you find yourself draped over her chest while you rest your chin over her heart, looking up at her earnestly. “I don’t think you’re scary. I mean, you’re for sure huge, but you aren’t scary at all. You know the first thing I thought when I saw you was some variation of ‘oh no she’s too hot, I can’t talk to her, she’s way too hot.’” She snorts and buries her face into your hair, apparently her favorite thing to do whenever you embarrass her.
“Come on pretty kitty, let’s get dressed and join your sister for breakfast. Then, ‘m gonna go home and get changed to take you on a proper date. And then, kitten, we’re gonna start workin’ on that promise I made you last night.” Your answering whimper makes her laugh, and she stands while hefting you up over her shoulder. “Come on kitten, unless you want your sister walkin’ in and finding us like this.” She emphasizes her statement with a firm slap to your ass, making you laugh. This might be the best morning ever.