When the meal was done and everything cleared, she was told to stand against the back wall, and take care of the needs of anyone who beckoned her. Hallie was serving as a busgirl, and wore only her collar and the requisite high heels. She had to respond to any of the guests needs, but otherwise she could observe the show. She watched as the stage was set for the evening's entertainment.

It was a D-Ring, complete with video cameras behind the Plexiglas wall on the flat side of the ring, and when the lights dimmed two large buxom blondes climbed through the ropes. They were both over six feet tall, wore no collars, and had on knee length spike heeled boots as their only costume. These two ladies were not controlled by handlers, as all of the other Business Women were.

There were six languages available on headphones at each place, so that guest could, if they preferred, listen to the MC in their own language.

"Ladies and Gentlemen," he began through the house system in English as his words were simultaneously repeated on the headphones in the other languages, “D-Ring Extravaganzas Inc. proudly presents a demonstration of some wonderful new weapons, developed in our laboratories and workshops, and being tested here tonight for the first time in a real fight. We have for your entertainment two of our managers who have chosen to retire, and to do so in a manner that best serves the interest of our organization, as all good employees would do."

That brought a laugh from the audience, who assumed the only way such women would participate would be through extreme coercion. They looked to see if anyone at the edges of the room had a rifle pointed at the pair of buxom nudes, but the only weapon visible was a large pistol, a revolver that appeared to be part of the MC's costume. He was dressed as a safari guide.

Hallie was summoned to the nearest table, and she stood as the man who summoned her inserted a large pepper mill into her vagina without moistening either first. As he pumped it she stood silently with her legs sufficiently spread to accommodate his vicious treatment of her. The man on the other side of her spoke to the woman beside him.

“These ladies in the ring really are managers, I’ve seen them in casinos in Europe. The only way a woman can retire from working for D-Ring is to enter the ring. I’m guessing they either have chosen to do this or are being punished. Either way, they are prepared psychologically to want to do it. Using weapons, it is certain they will both take severe physical injury before one of them is killed. This is what sport should always be about! These ladies know what is likely to happen to them. For some women even that doesn’t take too much persuasion!”

The MC continued, "Please welcome, with the raven hair and the beige boots, from our Paris Casino, the incredibly beautiful Italian Amazon, Miss Angela Santini!" the audience cheered and applauded as she waved to them. She also gave a convincing smile, which indicated she was happy to be about to do extreme and deadly battle.

"And the vivacious blonde in the red boots, a woman who spent most of her outstanding career in our Helsinki Casino, but most recently helped us open our new facility in The Hague, our German crusader, the equally gorgeous Miss Gertrude Schutz!" The applause doubled, and the nude women in their high-heeled boots strode to their corners, where their first weapons for this armed fight lay waiting.

The only thing Hallie knew for certain about them was that the names given them were not their own, and that they were not from Paris, Helsinki or The Hague. That was just advertising to keep the names of those casinos in front of the right people. She was also pretty sure the man beside her spoke the truth – they really were managers, and their choice for exiting the organization was limited to this kind of activity.

The man with the pepper mill inside her was increasing his thrusts, and in so doing was bringing her into heat. It was all she could do to restrain herself from thrusting her pelvis back in tempo with his action. How could she ever imagine she would get off on receiving a brutal pepper grinder fuck, in public? Damn, these people sure knew how to make a girl hot!

"For the first demonstration you will see introduced into our arsenal a remarkable new whip, one that is intricately woven over a tapered lead wire which while thick in the handle, is thinner but with body near the tip, so that while remaining flexible, at any point along its length it’s heavy enough to deliver a bruising blow, capable of damaging the flesh an inch deeper than any other whip in our arsenel, and with sufficient force it will easily split the recipient's skin.

“With repeated blows to the same area it is also capable of parting muscle, according to trials on older fit women in our Los Angeles test facilities. These innovative whips are the first prototypes of this relatively low-tech weapon. In the hands of these two powerful amazons, it will certainly be capable of splitting raw bitch muscle.

“Another model, which because we want more than one weapon demonstrated by these two, we shall not use for this evening's demonstration, has a leather weave with tiny but very sharp metal barbs woven into it, but we have determined the damage inflicted would be better demonstrated when that would be the only weapon the combatants would use.

It would certainly kill any woman taking a searious lashing with one. You will see it introduced when naked Amazons use them to strip the flesh from each other in all of our smaller and more intimate WHIPCRACKERS clubs around the world next month. That will serve as a ‘live’ trial of the weapons, and then the lead lined barbed whips will be introduced for the feature competitions in our D-RING Casinos in September.

Patrons will be issued white capes to protect their clothing from blood flung by the back swing of the vicious whips. We have determined in extensive testing that if a competition with these lasts more than a minute, the chances of there being a survivor are very slim. When these remarkable new weapons are used, gambling will be restricted to which contestant takes the longest to die. Two medics will be present to determine which combatant is the loser."

The handsome young MC turned his attention now to the fight at hand. "The whips you will see at work here don’t have the barbs attached. These ladies will give and take alternately six blows each, then they will engage in a damaging free-for-all whip fight. We have set a strict sixty-second time limit for the free form, because we want them able to continue to demonstrate the damaging effect of a second weapon. But enough of talk from me, let's see these wonderfully weighted weapons at work!"

Angela stood in a defiant pose first, and received the first blow where she least expected it. The whip slashed up between her legs at her enhanced open vagina. She leaped in the air with the pain of the blow, but did not scream. Gertrude posed and after a five second pause took a blow across her belly that was so severe she caved forward. The lead lining in the whip made the contact more penetrating, hurting her deep into the bacon of her well developed abdominal muscles.

She recovered quickly, and came back at Angela with a second blow to the cunt, this time bringing forth a shriek. The whip meeting genital meat sounded different than the sound produced by a standard bullwhip. It had a deeper sound, and bigger. This was indeed an innovative weapon capable of much more serious damage than a normal whip. The recoil inside the womb was sufficient that with ten blows to the cunt, the recipient would likely produce, or give birth, to her own womb, inverting her vagina and uterus as the amazing East Indian woman had done out in the lobby.

The two big nude bitches continued exchanging blows, setting a slow pace so that her opponent could get full benefit of each blow, and raising large angry welts on each other, until each had given and taken six. Then the whips swung more freely, and much more rapidly. The weighted leather both swelled and bruised the flesh of the pale skinned amazons, and soon where welt lines crossed blood began to trickle. The lead-lined whips were taking a toll on the big women, sapping their strength by the effort required to lash out with them, in addition to the energy required to take the incredible blows they delivered. As each whip was swung back and cracked, it now sprayed freshly spilled bitch blood behind it, and drew more blood each time it landed.

By the time a buzzer called a halt to the madness Gertrude's nose was smashed, and one of her erect nipples had been split. Had the whipping continued, the large nude women would soon be too far gone to demonstrate the next set of special weapons. Angela's cunt was dripping blood, and her belly and breasts were covered with dark angry bleeding welts. It was clear that if there were no time limit, the battling bitches would have easily effected a kill with these brutal weapons, and the only question remaining would be which of these large luscious ladies would have died first.

The whips were taken from the ring, and the women, glaring at each other and shouting obscene threats, were provided with tight fitting leather gloves. These had no padding, but were fitted with quarter-inch long studs. On the screen behind the ring a video projector showed a close-up of these weapons, and it was clear they were designed by experts to create surface damage, capable of cutting into muscle. The studs were sharp, and designed to shred live meat. The audience was excited as they realized they were going to view boxing with its full potential realized.

"Before the ladies conclude their event, we have one more weapon for them to demonstrate, so the buzzer will halt proceedings at the appropriate time. I’ll determine when its time for them to stop while both are still able to compete!" He turned to the women, who had securely fastened the vicious gloves. "Ladies?" he said, and stepped off the ring platform.

The women proved themselves to be much more proficient with boxing than with the whips, and very quickly their flesh was covered with deep bleeding contusions. The shape of the gloves' sharp studs made them both rip and gouge flesh, depending on the angle of the hit. In some cases a glancing blow was more damaging than a direct hit, that simply poked some small holes. With her broken nose, Gertrude tended to defend her face, but she also went after Angela's to great effect.

She dug a row of bleeding trenches from the right side of Angela's jaw to her temple, and took a vicious battering to her big bleeding breasts in return, but these were mostly puncture wounds. Angela then drove her fist across Gertrude's tummy while taking a blow that painfully ripped her left ear.

The audience cheered them on, and the women became more violent in their blows, until they were both streaming blood, which added fresh color to the drab dried bloodstains on the canvas. The MC threw a bucket of salt water over them as they fought, to stem some of the bleeding so neither would weaken too soon. The sting of the salt in their wounds brought even greater passion to the fight, and the brutal merciless pounding they gave each other with these damaging studded gloves became so fierce the MC had to hit the buzzer before either of the retiring managers succeeded in killing the other.

The ladies leaned back against the rope, their chests heaving for breath as they took the few seconds available to rest. The bleeding had largely subsided, thanks to the salt water, but in this heat and humidity their bodies gleamed with sweat. The MC worked carefully with them because they were still wearing the sharp studded gloves. He provided them with what at first appeared to be elbow pads, one for each arm, but when the audience saw the new weapons on the big screen, they gasped.

These were heinous killing weapons. The pads, which were really only firm armbands that covered the elbow, were fitted with a length of blade that was only an inch deep, running along the four-inch length of the bands. The blade was deep enough to cut through an arm to the bone, or through the stomach or side muscle to open a woman's abdominal cavity, while not deep enough to damage their organs and viscera.

These were ripping blades! To defend themselves in the most meager manner possible, the big cunts were given six-inch leather shields with a leather strap on the back that they could hold in a fist. These would likely be as vulnerable as flesh to the blades, and amounted to a bad but amusing joke. Hallie gasped with excitement when she realized that at last she was going to witness at least one ring kill, and quite possibly two. Now that she thought about it, this was the way of the organization.

The man who was abusing her had given up with the peppershaker to give his full attention to the ring, and she quietly moved back to stand against the wall. She was incredibly impressed by the outrageous fight she was witnessing. Nobody that knew the inside workings could ever be allowed to leave. It was like the primary rule of a motorcycle gang or the mafia. Once you were in, you knew too much to be allowed outside again. Ever. The only exit was death.

That must be what that line was about in the ad that brought her here. There was just one chance to exercise the only escape clause. It had to mean death. What an exciting idea! Even though the organization's fights were marginally legal, its success depended entirely on secrecy and no bad publicity. She understood now that these women who had been managers had likely somehow fucked up an assignment, and were required to go out the only way possible for them.

Or maybe they weren't aggressive or compliant enough in their jobs, and the organization needed fresh blood. A third possibility is that they weren't managers at all, at least not in the D-Ring Inc. organization. Maybe that guy who recognized them was wrong. Whatever it was, she found this realization really exciting. This was going to be a double execution by the organization in a way that furthered its cause, and left it blameless. She was about to witness these two big women complete a death fight. This was outrageously exciting!

These two beautiful women were going to kill each other, and probably were so pumped with the drug they used for these fights that they could not resist if they wanted to. It was absolutely elegant. If one of them died before getting in a lethal blow to the other, they would make out the cunt who killed her was not repairable, and mercilessly dispatch her with a bullet to the head to end her misery, at the same time giving the audience a positive jolt. She hoped they did that in the ring rather than dragging her out first, like they did with that 12-year-old when she had fought her first fight. Her only fight, she realized as she thought about it. She felt like a pro, but had only been in the fight ring once.

If what that guy had said was true, the MC would use his pistol to dispatch the winner in front of the audience, regardless of her condition. It would be an entertainment murder, and could be called nothing less. At the moment both women looked like they could be healed easily and put back into the ring to fight again, but this event was far from over. It would be a thrill to see the survivor's brains being blown out. Hallie hated female managers, even when they had been converted to nude ring fighters, and these two damaged bitches deserved everything they were about to get.

The organization's official follow-up report would say the winner of the bout was too badly damaged and wasn't worth healing. It would be too expensive to repair her, and she would have lost her value to the organization. The report would say they would have helped her if they could, of course, but they realized it would be useless to try to heal her. The only humaine thing to do was to quickly put her out of her misery, and nothing was quicker than a bullet through the head; the report would say it had been necessary to kill her in front of the audience before she left the ring. That at least would be the story line.

As she thought about it, she realized that the names and where they had worked were not just probably, but really had to be fakes as well. That was how the organization worked - leave no tracks and nobody will follow you. In fact, on this island no report would be necessary, since the private island was free of law. There was no accountability except to the Sheik, who was paying for all of this, and had approved the details of all of the entertainments that would be performed, including this one. A woman didn't disappear when she was killed, she disappeared when she was brought into the organization. She had no life but the one they gave her, and it appeared certain they would take it away when it suited their profitability.

Hallie suddenly realized that she had no sense of identity with these two beautiful battling nudes other than their appealing appearance and exciting behavior in the ring. They had terrific bodies, and great legs, which were enhanced by those spike heeled boots they wore. They looked great, but so did a t-bone steak. She had no empathy or sympathy with them or for their humanity, simply because she knew nothing of them, but in fact didn't want to know them as people. She had come to accept the restrictive range of value they had, which was as livestock, meat for the slaughter, and the shock and perhaps horror of their suffering in the ring was the enjoyment she felt. She felt nothing more.

She had become just like those men who had chatted beside the table on which she suffered with that beast up her ass. They got off on the violence, brutality and inhumanity of the acts they had come so far to see. Now Hallie found herself enjoying the fight to the death she was witnessing, and actually being sexually stimulated by it. Now she understood at a new level the violent fight business she had entered.