The air was thick with sweat from their bodies. A muggy veil of smoke lingered in the air and made breathing difficult. Greedy figures screamed and raved in the hall on the outskirts of Berlin. Numerous cars from Ferrari to BMW, from Mercedes to Rolls-Royce were parked in front of the old factory building. While the chauffeurs waited in the limousines, their masters stood close together in the hall. In the middle was a five by five meter latticed ring, at the corners of which large braziers made of burning oil seemed to be the only source of light in the room.
Two young women stood in opposite corners of the ring. Jenny was about 1.70 tall and had dark, slightly curly hair that hung over her shoulders. She wore a black sports bra and pink sweatpants. Her hands and feet were wrapped in white bandages.
Her opponent was called Olga. She was Russian-German and a little taller than Jenny. Her blonde hair was braided. She wore a red and gold top and matching hot pants.
The bodies of the two women shone in the light of the fire. They had been oiled before the fight. The trained fiber strands of their bodies were now just as visible as the beads of sweat on the fighters' faces.
Jenny knew what was at stake. If the fight was just for the entertainment of the lustful masses, the pain and blood would be real. This was what was special about these fights. Both women would use fists and feet to injure themselves. They wouldn't rest until one of them gave up or lay motionless on the ground. It wasn't Jenny's first fight in the fire cage, but her heart was still racing. She kept reminding herself of the money that victory would bring her.
She was born and grew up in Neukölln. Her mother was an unemployed drunk. One of those losers of the transition. Her father is an asylum seeker from Syria. She was all that remained of the failed relationship of these two stranded existences after 19 years. Anger rose in the young woman. Anger at the world she was unwantedly born into.
The gong sounded and the women got into fighting stance. Jenny had already been in this ring three times. She had won three times. A face mask was the only concession to safety regulations in regular fights. The young woman licked it with her tongue.
Her opponent glared at her. The desire to fight was clearly visible in the Russian woman's eyes. The blonde woman danced deftly towards her. She blocked a kick with her knee. The pain as the two feet met brought Jenny out of her thoughts. She was now in combat.
Blow after blow, kick after kick, the two women fell into a dance of pain and pleasure. The slavering crowd cheers at the sight of their toys mercilessly tearing each other apart in front of them. The bets that the men and women present placed on the victory and defeat of the two gladiators were many times what they would receive if they won. Nevertheless, the two women fought with a doggedness that bordered on frenzy. Lurking and waiting were mixed with phases of the wildest exchanges of blows, in which the shouts of the people barely drowned out the painful groans of the gladiators.
Jenny wiped the blood from her lip. She had been able to block most of the Russian's kicks and punches, but when she hit, the blonde's strength advantage was unmistakable. Again she dodged a hammer kick and responded with a hard left to her enemy's face. This was also bleeding. Jenny had previously hit her with a sidekick, and the sensitive skin over the blonde woman's right eye had burst. The blood had mixed with the sweat and ran over the muscular woman's oily skin down to her cleavage.
The white linen bandages on Jenny's hands and feet had now turned red. Pain and exhaustion made her limbs heavy, but the young woman's will to win was unbroken. Her wet, slightly curly hair twirled through the air as she started a jumping kick, and the instep of her foot thundered against the Russian-German's chin.
Dazed, the woman was thrown against the metal grille with a loud clatter and then fell forward to the ground. When Jenny landed, she immediately took a step back into a fighting stance, as she had learned to do at the youth club in Neukölln when she was 9 years old. While back then she had learned kickboxing in order to have some respect and protection on the street and in the schoolyard, she now enjoyed the cheers of the gawking crowd.
It was only when she was led out of the cage that she aware that the fight had lasted half an hour. A good time. They would invite her back, thought Jenny, still drunk on the adrenaline rush of victory.
A ring doctor - Jenny didn't know whether he was actually a doctor - was looking after the unconscious Olga. She didn't waste any pity on the woman as she walked out of the hall into a small annex to shower and change clothes.
The warm water enveloped the body like a gentle shell. Balm for sore muscles. The showers weren't particularly elegant, but they were in far better condition than the ones in Jenny's two-room apartment above a kebab shop. In general, there was a lot more modern in the old factory hall than you would expect on such an abandoned site. There were raves and foam parties here on weekends, but today was Tuesday. Tonight something took place here that was kept secret from the public eye.
When she came out of the shower, the ringside doctor was standing in the locker room. Screams boomed from outside again. Apparently there were more fights tonight. The man everyone called Horst looked at her naked, well-toned young body with obvious non-professional interest until Jenny blocked him with a towel.
“Are you okay?” he asked .
“I think so.”
“Let’s see.” He came up to her and shone a small lamp into her eyes. Jenny didn't know why he did that, but it was probably the right thing to do. “Looks good.”
He bent down to a bag and pulled out an ointment and a pill bottle. “Here, the ointment is for the painful areas. You'll definitely need them." He held out the tube to her.
"And the pills?" Jenny asked.
Horst smiled at her. “They’ll help you get on your feet. One of the little white things keeps you going all night, fighting or fucking."
"I don't take drugs," Jenny said - that wasn't true, but she didn't want pills from a man swallow, staring at her with such obvious lust. She had experienced her first rape when she was thirteen. It had been at a friend's birthday party. Back then they all tried some coke together. A little later she was lying under a man who was three times her age. Jenny had never told anyone what her friend's father had done that night - but since then the young woman exercised caution.
"As you say," Horst replied, unimpressed. When he left the locker room shortly afterwards, he left the jar behind. Jenny put it in the pocket of her leather jacket in one quick movement. She had just put on her jeans when the organizer came in.
"Has Horst checked on you?"
"Yes," she replied to the man in his mid-fifties in the expensive one Tailor-made suit.
“Here is your bonus.” Mr. Schreiber handed her an envelope. Jenny accepted it and counted. There were twenty 100 euro bills.
“Two thousand,” confirmed Mr. Schreiber. “I will contact you if I need you for a fight again. By the way, one of the viewers is probably very impressed with you. If you want to increase this, you should go with the man standing at the door."
"I'm not a whore," Jenny replied indignantly.
“So?” Mr. Schreiber pointed to the envelope and smiled with a malice that only business people can. "So your body can't be bought?"
Jenny glared at him but he remained unimpressed.
"Think about it. My spectators help decide who I let compete here.”
That was right. Cold anger rose within the fighter and desperately searched for an outlet to vent. But there was nothing there.
Annoyed, Jenny stuffed her combat gear into her backpack and stepped out of the locker room.
A man in a chauffeur's uniform stood in front of it."Miss Suroyo," the lady smiled and held out her hand. “I am Countess Diana von Hochstein. It's a pleasure to meet you."But another surprise was waiting for the young woman. Sitting next to her in the back seat wasn't a fat, disgusting man, but a woman dressed in elegant midnight black. Her flawless appearance hid the woman's age at first glance.The driver opened the back door and indicated with a slight bow that they were getting in should. With her heart racing, she climbed into the spacious interior of the Mercedes. The back seat offered lavish legroom, and behind the front seats was a small table, a recessed minibar, and a flat-screen TV that was currently flickering with the image of a burning crimson fire. Jenny only knew something like that from television.What am I doing, she shot Jenny thought. She didn't need the money urgently. There was 2,000 euros in her jacket pocket. Enough for a few months, but then? What if Schreiber stopped calling her? It was the only source of money Jenny had. She didn't want to live on Harz IV like her mother. On the other hand, there were hardly any real jobs in Berlin for a young woman without training, and especially without relationships.The black of the chauffeur’s uniform matched the black of the Mercedes limousine to which he accompanied her. The car with black tinted windows was parked a little away in the large parking area in front of the hall. It seemed a little longer than an ordinary car - but she didn't know enough about cars to be able to tell the difference between a special and a series model.
“Miss Jenny Suroyo?” said the man in a friendly tone. “I should accompany her to the car.”
Jenny studied the woman as her hand closed around the delicate fingers. Her face radiated a friendly severity, which was underlined by the reddish tint of her long, dark hair.
“Pleasant,” Jenny feigned. She was visibly intimidated. The adrenaline of the fight slowly wore off. "Mr. Schreiber said you wanted to speak to me."
The Countess smiled and her hand slid over the denim that covered Jenny's thigh. "Yes. I want to talk to you and more.”
A shiver went through the young woman. No longer in the familiar ring, her muscles wanted to move, but at the same time she called herself to calm. The Countess's delicate long fingers slowly traced the inside of her thighs. The fingertips caused a tingling sensation through the material, which was unknown to Jenny.
“Olaf, please drive us home. Miss Suroyo and I want to have another drink, don't we?"
Jenny remained silent, captivated by the Countess's eyes, which bound her to her with an unknown power.
The journey took them through half of Berlin. The limousine reached streets Jenny didn't know. Only the radio tower offered some indication of where the journey was going. When the car passed a heavy wrought iron gate, they had finally left the facade of the big city behind them. Dense old trees flanked the narrow path made of cobblestones that led to a villa from the Wilhelminian era.
Jenny looked around uncertainly. She had hardly exchanged a word with the Countess. Not even about money. The car stopped in front of the sweeping steps that led to the front door. The chauffeur opened the door on the countess' side.
“Come on. Don't be afraid," the older woman said as she got out. It was the gentle tone that a mother usually used with her boy. And Jenny followed the call.
She entered a world that she had only seen on television. Furniture with fine decorations that were definitely not from IKEA, carpets laid across the marble floors, and oil paintings that offered a constant presence to the people and landscapes of bygone times. They went to the first floor. A large open fireplace provided the room with light and warmth. There was real wood in the flames, not gas. Jenny looks around in amazement.
“How do you like it?” asked the Countess. She gave the young woman a glass of red wine. The two women now faced each other. Jenny noticed that the Countess was slightly taller than her. Her long, slim body was dressed in a black designer suit. The fire was reflected in the woman's face. She might have been fifty.
“Very nice,” she admitted, still somewhat helplessly.
“Please sit down.” Her hostess pointed to the expansive sofa. It was covered in dark red fabric and had golden yellow embroidery on the sides depicting two birds of prey's wings. Jenny sat down on the luxury sofa and leaned back against the cushions. Since the seat of the sofa was very large, she had to slide back further and was now lying half on it. Tonight's fight revealed its painful consequences and she winced slightly.
"Does it hurt a lot?" asked the Countess, who had pushed herself next to her. She felt the woman's delicate fingers moving through her long hair.
"It's okay," Jenny answered shortly. “It wasn't my first fight. I'll survive it." She turned her head slightly and smiled at her with her youthful freshness. She slowly relaxed a little. Their eyes crossed in the flickering light of the fireplace.
"That's good," breathed the Countess. Her fingers were still running testing through her dark hair. Jenny had pulled her hands slightly to her body. Unsure of what awaited her now, but long since overcome by curiosity. Meanwhile, the countess' other hand placed itself between the young woman's thighs and stroked them with gentle, even movements. A pleasant shiver flooded the fighter's body. This was a battle she had never fought before. A fight against the lust that a woman gave her. A weak groan passed her lips, while her thighs were still pressed together to resist the further advances of her patron.
From the front, it now appeared as if Jenny were like a mythical figure in the middle of the birds of prey's wings lay that was part of her body. The countess' larger body hugged her from the outside.
“Your hair smells pleasant. And it is so beautiful and strong," whispered the matron. Her lips were only a hand's width away from Jenny's. The noble woman's sensual gaze captivated the young creature. Another moan was heard as her hand touched the spot between her thighs. The muscles that had worked so quickly and powerfully tonight suddenly trembled and her legs opened a little. Not much, just a hand's breadth, but enough to show that she wanted it. To show that the young body was enjoying the touch of a strange woman.
“I watched you tonight. You fought well.” The Countess’s lips gently touched those of her new playmate. Her tongue carefully felt the entrance, tasted the young skin, and finally reached entrance. The tips of their tongues touched tenderly. They explored each other with innocent caution, while the matron's hand gently pushed Jenny's legs further apart.
The kiss seemed to have lasted forever. For Jenny it was the first French kiss with a woman. It felt strange, forbidden and yet so good. She no longer thought about money or a service of love. She felt like a full-fledged lover and offered no resistance when the woman opened the button and zipper of her jeans.
“Your sweaty body looked so attractive in the cage. I want to touch him. I want to explore it.” Jenny felt the erotic touch of Diana’s lips on her neck. She nibbled on her sensitive skin, licked the vibrating pulse of the artery. She forced another moan of pleasure from the young woman as her lips slowly moved to the base of her earlobe.
"Oh he feels so good," the Countess breathed. “So young. So fresh. “Full of power, full of desire, full of passion.” Her fingertips slid over Jenny’s panties to where her labia were visible under the thin material. Moisture marked the place and betrayed the pleasure that the young flesh contained. Diana deliberately drove through the wet ford several times and felt the smoothly shaved labia. She also felt the movements of her inexperienced playmate's pelvis and enjoyed playing with her desire.
Now she put her other arm around Jenny, who was already a prisoner of her desire. She skillfully kissed and caressed her lover's neck, earlobes and lips while her hand slid under the young woman's shirt. She caressed the fighter's smooth skin, beneath which were well-trained, fast muscles, she moved steadily until she finally reached the target. The well-shaped breasts, which had a solid, natural fullness without any surgery. She played with pleasure around the hard nipples, rubbing and twirling them, while her other hand skillfully stimulated the pleasure center between her legs.
Sensual moans from the girl's mouth were the reward for the countess' work. She now liked being in control of the fighter who had fought so bravely in the steel cage tonight. Like a puppet master, she now had power over the young woman. Her fingers, her tongue, her lips were the cords with which they pulled the strings of pleasure.
After a while the Countess sat up. Jenny opened her eyes and looked into the satisfied face of her patron with eyes drunk with lust. She now grabbed Jenny's shirt with both hands and pulled it off her body. The Countess now also opened the buttons on her costume. In the light of the fireplace she recognized the voluptuous symmetrical breasts, which were now stripped of their black covering.
She felt Diana's hand on her body again. The matron gently strokes her nipples, giving her another shiver of pleasant pleasure, which she unconsciously acknowledged with a soft moan. Jenny now moved her hand uncertainly to the older woman's breasts. He felt hard and bloated. The skin was tight and the nipples stuck out stiffly. With her hand trembling with uncertainty, she returned the lustful touch that she received from the countess's practiced fingers. She smiled contentedly and then let herself sigh with satisfaction.
Diana von Hochstein leaned forward again and touched the young woman's neck with her lips again, which immediately elicited a sound of pleasure from her . Her plump breasts brushed against their much smaller, natural counterparts and rubbed against each other. With wet kisses she slid further and further over the young skin, covering the neck, face and décolleté and then moving deeper and deeper.
When she reached her belly button, she suddenly stopped. Her hands reached for the opened jeans and jerked them off Jenny's body. Her panties followed a few moments later. Then the Countess continued. Her kisses finally reached the cleanly shaved labia.
An unexpected wave of pleasure ran through the young woman as her tongue dug through the moist crack of her privates. No one had ever touched her like that before. It was an incredibly intense new feeling that drove her senses to ecstasy. The experienced lover recognized this and started again. The tip of her tongue touched the base of Jenny's rosette and then plowed further up, through the wet, salty depths of her pleasure pit to the little plum of her clit. This was too much for Jenny, who suddenly clung to the pillows and cried out convulsively as her body experienced an intense orgasm.
The Countess smiled contentedly, but she was not satisfied with it. She enjoyed licking the love nectar from Jenny's vibrating vagina. She enjoyed the pleasure of the little thing that she had brought into her villa tonight. Soon after the orgasm had subsided, she heard another moan from Jenny's lips. She looked at the ceiling with a blurred gaze. Stars still danced before her vision. The force of the orgasm had almost taken her senses. Now she stood there almost motionless while pleasure built up in her womb again. Then she suddenly felt something enter her. Pleasure flooded her body again.
Diana deftly licked the girl's clit while she gently sank two fingers into her body. She felt the tender warm flesh close around her fingers, she felt the greedy desire that was still within her. She enjoyed the salty sweet juice dripping from the girl's vagina. She drove her fingers faster and faster deep into the girl's pleasure cave and touched her most sensitive spot.
"Yes, yes," moaned Jenny. “Go on, go on.”
The Countess smiled. She had this young woman, this fighter, right where she wanted her. She was begging for release, begging for the satisfaction of her lust. Von Hochstein took his time. This time she skillfully delayed the moment when her playmate could experience a climax. And again and again the weak, ecstasy-filled voice begged for release.
Jenny suddenly reared up and her muscles tensed while a wave of indescribable pleasure shot through her body from her abdomen. She screamed, she moaned, she gasped, she panted, and finally she was just desperate for air. Stars flickered before her eyes. Minutes passed in which she lay almost unconscious on the sofa.
When her head cleared a little, Diana had pushed herself next to her. Her head rested on her large, surgically created breasts, like a child with its mother. Instinctively her lips touched one of the hard, protruding nipples. A hand tenderly ran through her long hair.
Jenny's clumsy caresses seemed to please the Countess, because she now pressed Jenny's head a little tighter against her breasts while she pushed one leg between hers.< /span>
The Countess is now on top of her. Her hand caressed her face as she lightly rubbed her privates against the young woman's slim, toned legs. Jenny noticed that the matron had also completely undressed. The older woman now rubbed her bare, wet pussy against hers and moaned with pleasure. Jenny now caressed her lover's nipples more and more skillfully, while her hands now stroked the other woman's bare skin more boldly. The skin felt unusually thin and flabby on my back and bottom. Only now did she realize that the Countess had probably been over 50 for several years. Nevertheless, she made an effort to give Diana back a little of the pleasure that Diana had previously given her.
With a clever, quick movement she turned 180° together with her playmate. Now the Countess lay on her back and Jenny leaned down and kissed the surprised woman passionately on the mouth. After the initial surprise, she returned the kiss. Then Jenny slowly moved her kisses deeper. She caressed her patron's neck, just as she had done to her before. Her young, skilled hands stroked the older body and also found the pleasure center between her legs, while she was still pampering the protruding nipples.
Diana was now also moaning in pleasure. She enjoyed being pampered herself. Excited by the young woman's kisses, she grabbed her long black hair and directed her head further down. Jenny understood and followed the instruction. Her mouth was now over the matron's swollen labia. It took a lot of effort for the young woman to lick a woman's pussy for the first time in her life.
When her tongue ran through the mature woman's labia, she shuddered at the unfamiliar taste. But she quickly got used to it and eagerly licked the countess' wet, swollen ford.
“Yes, girl, that's how I want you. Lick me. "Lick my cunt," moaned the Countess and pressed her playmate's head firmly against her pussy, which was wet with love nectar. The young tongue skillfully plowed through the gate of pleasure and soon a huge climax full of pent-up pleasure was announced.
The orgasm ripped through the noblewoman's body with such force that she felt the girl's face pressed hard against her pussy so that it couldn't breathe anymore. Only after a few moments, in which Jenny almost panicked, did the surprisingly strong countess release her lover's head from the iron grip. Breathing heavily, she pulled the girl close to her. Jenny was also gasping for air, but at the same time she also felt lucky to have given the countess some of her pleasure back.
Diana put an arm around her and then spread a woolen blanket over their naked bodies .
“Was that your first time with a woman?” she asked.
“Yes,” Jenny admitted.
"Did you like it?" Her hand slid gently through Jenny's long black hair.
"Yes." As if to confirm, she snuggled against the other woman's body, completely exhausted and exhausted. Diana smiled contentedly. They exchanged a few more words, then sleep took over both of them.
It was already light outside when Jenny woke up. She was still covered by the wool blanket in which they had snuggled up together that night. However, there was no trace of the Countess.
“Miss Suyoro,” came the chauffeur’s voice. “Glad you’re awake. Unfortunately, the Countess didn't have time to say goodbye to them. I'll take you home now. Now if you would please get dressed. I'll wait outside."
A short time later, Jenny left the property in the back seat of a black Mercedes S-Class. It wasn't the car they came in. The Countess probably had several.
The events of last night now seemed like a surreal dream to her. Her body ached, whether from the fight or the lovemaking, she could no longer say for sure. Somehow it was still as if she could feel the woman's hands on her body. She could still taste her taste. It couldn't have been a dream, and yet it seemed more and more unreal to her as the car moved through the urban canyons of Berlin.
The car stopped on the street where she lived. The driver turned to her and handed her an envelope.
“Here for you. I also have to ask you to keep quiet about everything you've experienced."
Jenny took the envelope.
"Yes, I will," she assured and got out.
When the S-Class was out of sight, Jenny opened the envelope. Inside was a card and four 500 euro notes. She read the card:
Thank you for the lovely night.
Unfortunately I had to go to London urgently and didn't want to wake you up.
Olaf should take you home.
The money is a small thank you, buy yourself something nice with it.
Diana
PS : Show me when we see each other again.
Jenny's knees became weak. That everything actually happened. And, this person wanted to see her again. She held onto a streetlight and gasped for air. What would she do if the Countess actually invited her back? Insecurity and shame filled her, but at the same time lustful desires rose deep within her. Longing for what lay behind that forbidden door that she had opened for herself tonight with such a strange woman.
Two young women stood in opposite corners of the ring. Jenny was about 1.70 tall and had dark, slightly curly hair that hung over her shoulders. She wore a black sports bra and pink sweatpants. Her hands and feet were wrapped in white bandages.
Her opponent was called Olga. She was Russian-German and a little taller than Jenny. Her blonde hair was braided. She wore a red and gold top and matching hot pants.
The bodies of the two women shone in the light of the fire. They had been oiled before the fight. The trained fiber strands of their bodies were now just as visible as the beads of sweat on the fighters' faces.
Jenny knew what was at stake. If the fight was just for the entertainment of the lustful masses, the pain and blood would be real. This was what was special about these fights. Both women would use fists and feet to injure themselves. They wouldn't rest until one of them gave up or lay motionless on the ground. It wasn't Jenny's first fight in the fire cage, but her heart was still racing. She kept reminding herself of the money that victory would bring her.
She was born and grew up in Neukölln. Her mother was an unemployed drunk. One of those losers of the transition. Her father is an asylum seeker from Syria. She was all that remained of the failed relationship of these two stranded existences after 19 years. Anger rose in the young woman. Anger at the world she was unwantedly born into.
The gong sounded and the women got into fighting stance. Jenny had already been in this ring three times. She had won three times. A face mask was the only concession to safety regulations in regular fights. The young woman licked it with her tongue.
Her opponent glared at her. The desire to fight was clearly visible in the Russian woman's eyes. The blonde woman danced deftly towards her. She blocked a kick with her knee. The pain as the two feet met brought Jenny out of her thoughts. She was now in combat.
Blow after blow, kick after kick, the two women fell into a dance of pain and pleasure. The slavering crowd cheers at the sight of their toys mercilessly tearing each other apart in front of them. The bets that the men and women present placed on the victory and defeat of the two gladiators were many times what they would receive if they won. Nevertheless, the two women fought with a doggedness that bordered on frenzy. Lurking and waiting were mixed with phases of the wildest exchanges of blows, in which the shouts of the people barely drowned out the painful groans of the gladiators.
Jenny wiped the blood from her lip. She had been able to block most of the Russian's kicks and punches, but when she hit, the blonde's strength advantage was unmistakable. Again she dodged a hammer kick and responded with a hard left to her enemy's face. This was also bleeding. Jenny had previously hit her with a sidekick, and the sensitive skin over the blonde woman's right eye had burst. The blood had mixed with the sweat and ran over the muscular woman's oily skin down to her cleavage.
The white linen bandages on Jenny's hands and feet had now turned red. Pain and exhaustion made her limbs heavy, but the young woman's will to win was unbroken. Her wet, slightly curly hair twirled through the air as she started a jumping kick, and the instep of her foot thundered against the Russian-German's chin.
Dazed, the woman was thrown against the metal grille with a loud clatter and then fell forward to the ground. When Jenny landed, she immediately took a step back into a fighting stance, as she had learned to do at the youth club in Neukölln when she was 9 years old. While back then she had learned kickboxing in order to have some respect and protection on the street and in the schoolyard, she now enjoyed the cheers of the gawking crowd.
It was only when she was led out of the cage that she aware that the fight had lasted half an hour. A good time. They would invite her back, thought Jenny, still drunk on the adrenaline rush of victory.
A ring doctor - Jenny didn't know whether he was actually a doctor - was looking after the unconscious Olga. She didn't waste any pity on the woman as she walked out of the hall into a small annex to shower and change clothes.
The warm water enveloped the body like a gentle shell. Balm for sore muscles. The showers weren't particularly elegant, but they were in far better condition than the ones in Jenny's two-room apartment above a kebab shop. In general, there was a lot more modern in the old factory hall than you would expect on such an abandoned site. There were raves and foam parties here on weekends, but today was Tuesday. Tonight something took place here that was kept secret from the public eye.
When she came out of the shower, the ringside doctor was standing in the locker room. Screams boomed from outside again. Apparently there were more fights tonight. The man everyone called Horst looked at her naked, well-toned young body with obvious non-professional interest until Jenny blocked him with a towel.
“Are you okay?” he asked .
“I think so.”
“Let’s see.” He came up to her and shone a small lamp into her eyes. Jenny didn't know why he did that, but it was probably the right thing to do. “Looks good.”
He bent down to a bag and pulled out an ointment and a pill bottle. “Here, the ointment is for the painful areas. You'll definitely need them." He held out the tube to her.
"And the pills?" Jenny asked.
Horst smiled at her. “They’ll help you get on your feet. One of the little white things keeps you going all night, fighting or fucking."
"I don't take drugs," Jenny said - that wasn't true, but she didn't want pills from a man swallow, staring at her with such obvious lust. She had experienced her first rape when she was thirteen. It had been at a friend's birthday party. Back then they all tried some coke together. A little later she was lying under a man who was three times her age. Jenny had never told anyone what her friend's father had done that night - but since then the young woman exercised caution.
"As you say," Horst replied, unimpressed. When he left the locker room shortly afterwards, he left the jar behind. Jenny put it in the pocket of her leather jacket in one quick movement. She had just put on her jeans when the organizer came in.
"Has Horst checked on you?"
"Yes," she replied to the man in his mid-fifties in the expensive one Tailor-made suit.
“Here is your bonus.” Mr. Schreiber handed her an envelope. Jenny accepted it and counted. There were twenty 100 euro bills.
“Two thousand,” confirmed Mr. Schreiber. “I will contact you if I need you for a fight again. By the way, one of the viewers is probably very impressed with you. If you want to increase this, you should go with the man standing at the door."
"I'm not a whore," Jenny replied indignantly.
“So?” Mr. Schreiber pointed to the envelope and smiled with a malice that only business people can. "So your body can't be bought?"
Jenny glared at him but he remained unimpressed.
"Think about it. My spectators help decide who I let compete here.”
That was right. Cold anger rose within the fighter and desperately searched for an outlet to vent. But there was nothing there.
Annoyed, Jenny stuffed her combat gear into her backpack and stepped out of the locker room.
A man in a chauffeur's uniform stood in front of it."Miss Suroyo," the lady smiled and held out her hand. “I am Countess Diana von Hochstein. It's a pleasure to meet you."But another surprise was waiting for the young woman. Sitting next to her in the back seat wasn't a fat, disgusting man, but a woman dressed in elegant midnight black. Her flawless appearance hid the woman's age at first glance.The driver opened the back door and indicated with a slight bow that they were getting in should. With her heart racing, she climbed into the spacious interior of the Mercedes. The back seat offered lavish legroom, and behind the front seats was a small table, a recessed minibar, and a flat-screen TV that was currently flickering with the image of a burning crimson fire. Jenny only knew something like that from television.What am I doing, she shot Jenny thought. She didn't need the money urgently. There was 2,000 euros in her jacket pocket. Enough for a few months, but then? What if Schreiber stopped calling her? It was the only source of money Jenny had. She didn't want to live on Harz IV like her mother. On the other hand, there were hardly any real jobs in Berlin for a young woman without training, and especially without relationships.The black of the chauffeur’s uniform matched the black of the Mercedes limousine to which he accompanied her. The car with black tinted windows was parked a little away in the large parking area in front of the hall. It seemed a little longer than an ordinary car - but she didn't know enough about cars to be able to tell the difference between a special and a series model.
“Miss Jenny Suroyo?” said the man in a friendly tone. “I should accompany her to the car.”
Jenny studied the woman as her hand closed around the delicate fingers. Her face radiated a friendly severity, which was underlined by the reddish tint of her long, dark hair.
“Pleasant,” Jenny feigned. She was visibly intimidated. The adrenaline of the fight slowly wore off. "Mr. Schreiber said you wanted to speak to me."
The Countess smiled and her hand slid over the denim that covered Jenny's thigh. "Yes. I want to talk to you and more.”
A shiver went through the young woman. No longer in the familiar ring, her muscles wanted to move, but at the same time she called herself to calm. The Countess's delicate long fingers slowly traced the inside of her thighs. The fingertips caused a tingling sensation through the material, which was unknown to Jenny.
“Olaf, please drive us home. Miss Suroyo and I want to have another drink, don't we?"
Jenny remained silent, captivated by the Countess's eyes, which bound her to her with an unknown power.
The journey took them through half of Berlin. The limousine reached streets Jenny didn't know. Only the radio tower offered some indication of where the journey was going. When the car passed a heavy wrought iron gate, they had finally left the facade of the big city behind them. Dense old trees flanked the narrow path made of cobblestones that led to a villa from the Wilhelminian era.
Jenny looked around uncertainly. She had hardly exchanged a word with the Countess. Not even about money. The car stopped in front of the sweeping steps that led to the front door. The chauffeur opened the door on the countess' side.
“Come on. Don't be afraid," the older woman said as she got out. It was the gentle tone that a mother usually used with her boy. And Jenny followed the call.
She entered a world that she had only seen on television. Furniture with fine decorations that were definitely not from IKEA, carpets laid across the marble floors, and oil paintings that offered a constant presence to the people and landscapes of bygone times. They went to the first floor. A large open fireplace provided the room with light and warmth. There was real wood in the flames, not gas. Jenny looks around in amazement.
“How do you like it?” asked the Countess. She gave the young woman a glass of red wine. The two women now faced each other. Jenny noticed that the Countess was slightly taller than her. Her long, slim body was dressed in a black designer suit. The fire was reflected in the woman's face. She might have been fifty.
“Very nice,” she admitted, still somewhat helplessly.
“Please sit down.” Her hostess pointed to the expansive sofa. It was covered in dark red fabric and had golden yellow embroidery on the sides depicting two birds of prey's wings. Jenny sat down on the luxury sofa and leaned back against the cushions. Since the seat of the sofa was very large, she had to slide back further and was now lying half on it. Tonight's fight revealed its painful consequences and she winced slightly.
"Does it hurt a lot?" asked the Countess, who had pushed herself next to her. She felt the woman's delicate fingers moving through her long hair.
"It's okay," Jenny answered shortly. “It wasn't my first fight. I'll survive it." She turned her head slightly and smiled at her with her youthful freshness. She slowly relaxed a little. Their eyes crossed in the flickering light of the fireplace.
"That's good," breathed the Countess. Her fingers were still running testing through her dark hair. Jenny had pulled her hands slightly to her body. Unsure of what awaited her now, but long since overcome by curiosity. Meanwhile, the countess' other hand placed itself between the young woman's thighs and stroked them with gentle, even movements. A pleasant shiver flooded the fighter's body. This was a battle she had never fought before. A fight against the lust that a woman gave her. A weak groan passed her lips, while her thighs were still pressed together to resist the further advances of her patron.
From the front, it now appeared as if Jenny were like a mythical figure in the middle of the birds of prey's wings lay that was part of her body. The countess' larger body hugged her from the outside.
“Your hair smells pleasant. And it is so beautiful and strong," whispered the matron. Her lips were only a hand's width away from Jenny's. The noble woman's sensual gaze captivated the young creature. Another moan was heard as her hand touched the spot between her thighs. The muscles that had worked so quickly and powerfully tonight suddenly trembled and her legs opened a little. Not much, just a hand's breadth, but enough to show that she wanted it. To show that the young body was enjoying the touch of a strange woman.
“I watched you tonight. You fought well.” The Countess’s lips gently touched those of her new playmate. Her tongue carefully felt the entrance, tasted the young skin, and finally reached entrance. The tips of their tongues touched tenderly. They explored each other with innocent caution, while the matron's hand gently pushed Jenny's legs further apart.
The kiss seemed to have lasted forever. For Jenny it was the first French kiss with a woman. It felt strange, forbidden and yet so good. She no longer thought about money or a service of love. She felt like a full-fledged lover and offered no resistance when the woman opened the button and zipper of her jeans.
“Your sweaty body looked so attractive in the cage. I want to touch him. I want to explore it.” Jenny felt the erotic touch of Diana’s lips on her neck. She nibbled on her sensitive skin, licked the vibrating pulse of the artery. She forced another moan of pleasure from the young woman as her lips slowly moved to the base of her earlobe.
"Oh he feels so good," the Countess breathed. “So young. So fresh. “Full of power, full of desire, full of passion.” Her fingertips slid over Jenny’s panties to where her labia were visible under the thin material. Moisture marked the place and betrayed the pleasure that the young flesh contained. Diana deliberately drove through the wet ford several times and felt the smoothly shaved labia. She also felt the movements of her inexperienced playmate's pelvis and enjoyed playing with her desire.
Now she put her other arm around Jenny, who was already a prisoner of her desire. She skillfully kissed and caressed her lover's neck, earlobes and lips while her hand slid under the young woman's shirt. She caressed the fighter's smooth skin, beneath which were well-trained, fast muscles, she moved steadily until she finally reached the target. The well-shaped breasts, which had a solid, natural fullness without any surgery. She played with pleasure around the hard nipples, rubbing and twirling them, while her other hand skillfully stimulated the pleasure center between her legs.
Sensual moans from the girl's mouth were the reward for the countess' work. She now liked being in control of the fighter who had fought so bravely in the steel cage tonight. Like a puppet master, she now had power over the young woman. Her fingers, her tongue, her lips were the cords with which they pulled the strings of pleasure.
After a while the Countess sat up. Jenny opened her eyes and looked into the satisfied face of her patron with eyes drunk with lust. She now grabbed Jenny's shirt with both hands and pulled it off her body. The Countess now also opened the buttons on her costume. In the light of the fireplace she recognized the voluptuous symmetrical breasts, which were now stripped of their black covering.
She felt Diana's hand on her body again. The matron gently strokes her nipples, giving her another shiver of pleasant pleasure, which she unconsciously acknowledged with a soft moan. Jenny now moved her hand uncertainly to the older woman's breasts. He felt hard and bloated. The skin was tight and the nipples stuck out stiffly. With her hand trembling with uncertainty, she returned the lustful touch that she received from the countess's practiced fingers. She smiled contentedly and then let herself sigh with satisfaction.
Diana von Hochstein leaned forward again and touched the young woman's neck with her lips again, which immediately elicited a sound of pleasure from her . Her plump breasts brushed against their much smaller, natural counterparts and rubbed against each other. With wet kisses she slid further and further over the young skin, covering the neck, face and décolleté and then moving deeper and deeper.
When she reached her belly button, she suddenly stopped. Her hands reached for the opened jeans and jerked them off Jenny's body. Her panties followed a few moments later. Then the Countess continued. Her kisses finally reached the cleanly shaved labia.
An unexpected wave of pleasure ran through the young woman as her tongue dug through the moist crack of her privates. No one had ever touched her like that before. It was an incredibly intense new feeling that drove her senses to ecstasy. The experienced lover recognized this and started again. The tip of her tongue touched the base of Jenny's rosette and then plowed further up, through the wet, salty depths of her pleasure pit to the little plum of her clit. This was too much for Jenny, who suddenly clung to the pillows and cried out convulsively as her body experienced an intense orgasm.
The Countess smiled contentedly, but she was not satisfied with it. She enjoyed licking the love nectar from Jenny's vibrating vagina. She enjoyed the pleasure of the little thing that she had brought into her villa tonight. Soon after the orgasm had subsided, she heard another moan from Jenny's lips. She looked at the ceiling with a blurred gaze. Stars still danced before her vision. The force of the orgasm had almost taken her senses. Now she stood there almost motionless while pleasure built up in her womb again. Then she suddenly felt something enter her. Pleasure flooded her body again.
Diana deftly licked the girl's clit while she gently sank two fingers into her body. She felt the tender warm flesh close around her fingers, she felt the greedy desire that was still within her. She enjoyed the salty sweet juice dripping from the girl's vagina. She drove her fingers faster and faster deep into the girl's pleasure cave and touched her most sensitive spot.
"Yes, yes," moaned Jenny. “Go on, go on.”
The Countess smiled. She had this young woman, this fighter, right where she wanted her. She was begging for release, begging for the satisfaction of her lust. Von Hochstein took his time. This time she skillfully delayed the moment when her playmate could experience a climax. And again and again the weak, ecstasy-filled voice begged for release.
Jenny suddenly reared up and her muscles tensed while a wave of indescribable pleasure shot through her body from her abdomen. She screamed, she moaned, she gasped, she panted, and finally she was just desperate for air. Stars flickered before her eyes. Minutes passed in which she lay almost unconscious on the sofa.
When her head cleared a little, Diana had pushed herself next to her. Her head rested on her large, surgically created breasts, like a child with its mother. Instinctively her lips touched one of the hard, protruding nipples. A hand tenderly ran through her long hair.
Jenny's clumsy caresses seemed to please the Countess, because she now pressed Jenny's head a little tighter against her breasts while she pushed one leg between hers.< /span>
The Countess is now on top of her. Her hand caressed her face as she lightly rubbed her privates against the young woman's slim, toned legs. Jenny noticed that the matron had also completely undressed. The older woman now rubbed her bare, wet pussy against hers and moaned with pleasure. Jenny now caressed her lover's nipples more and more skillfully, while her hands now stroked the other woman's bare skin more boldly. The skin felt unusually thin and flabby on my back and bottom. Only now did she realize that the Countess had probably been over 50 for several years. Nevertheless, she made an effort to give Diana back a little of the pleasure that Diana had previously given her.
With a clever, quick movement she turned 180° together with her playmate. Now the Countess lay on her back and Jenny leaned down and kissed the surprised woman passionately on the mouth. After the initial surprise, she returned the kiss. Then Jenny slowly moved her kisses deeper. She caressed her patron's neck, just as she had done to her before. Her young, skilled hands stroked the older body and also found the pleasure center between her legs, while she was still pampering the protruding nipples.
Diana was now also moaning in pleasure. She enjoyed being pampered herself. Excited by the young woman's kisses, she grabbed her long black hair and directed her head further down. Jenny understood and followed the instruction. Her mouth was now over the matron's swollen labia. It took a lot of effort for the young woman to lick a woman's pussy for the first time in her life.
When her tongue ran through the mature woman's labia, she shuddered at the unfamiliar taste. But she quickly got used to it and eagerly licked the countess' wet, swollen ford.
“Yes, girl, that's how I want you. Lick me. "Lick my cunt," moaned the Countess and pressed her playmate's head firmly against her pussy, which was wet with love nectar. The young tongue skillfully plowed through the gate of pleasure and soon a huge climax full of pent-up pleasure was announced.
The orgasm ripped through the noblewoman's body with such force that she felt the girl's face pressed hard against her pussy so that it couldn't breathe anymore. Only after a few moments, in which Jenny almost panicked, did the surprisingly strong countess release her lover's head from the iron grip. Breathing heavily, she pulled the girl close to her. Jenny was also gasping for air, but at the same time she also felt lucky to have given the countess some of her pleasure back.
Diana put an arm around her and then spread a woolen blanket over their naked bodies .
“Was that your first time with a woman?” she asked.
“Yes,” Jenny admitted.
"Did you like it?" Her hand slid gently through Jenny's long black hair.
"Yes." As if to confirm, she snuggled against the other woman's body, completely exhausted and exhausted. Diana smiled contentedly. They exchanged a few more words, then sleep took over both of them.
It was already light outside when Jenny woke up. She was still covered by the wool blanket in which they had snuggled up together that night. However, there was no trace of the Countess.
“Miss Suyoro,” came the chauffeur’s voice. “Glad you’re awake. Unfortunately, the Countess didn't have time to say goodbye to them. I'll take you home now. Now if you would please get dressed. I'll wait outside."
A short time later, Jenny left the property in the back seat of a black Mercedes S-Class. It wasn't the car they came in. The Countess probably had several.
The events of last night now seemed like a surreal dream to her. Her body ached, whether from the fight or the lovemaking, she could no longer say for sure. Somehow it was still as if she could feel the woman's hands on her body. She could still taste her taste. It couldn't have been a dream, and yet it seemed more and more unreal to her as the car moved through the urban canyons of Berlin.
The car stopped on the street where she lived. The driver turned to her and handed her an envelope.
“Here for you. I also have to ask you to keep quiet about everything you've experienced."
Jenny took the envelope.
"Yes, I will," she assured and got out.
When the S-Class was out of sight, Jenny opened the envelope. Inside was a card and four 500 euro notes. She read the card:
Thank you for the lovely night.
Unfortunately I had to go to London urgently and didn't want to wake you up.
Olaf should take you home.
The money is a small thank you, buy yourself something nice with it.
Diana
PS : Show me when we see each other again.
Jenny's knees became weak. That everything actually happened. And, this person wanted to see her again. She held onto a streetlight and gasped for air. What would she do if the Countess actually invited her back? Insecurity and shame filled her, but at the same time lustful desires rose deep within her. Longing for what lay behind that forbidden door that she had opened for herself tonight with such a strange woman.
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