The gym echoes with the sounds of feet padding along the arena mat as the two women rush at each other. With practiced grace and skill, the two spin simultaneously, their legs high, clashing as they strike one another.
Their balance is impeccable. Their thighs strain against each other, a tug-of-war between the two battlers, beautiful women each. Both of their brilliant faces are marred by the determination the other has to break the struggle between their legs, only for one of them to finally relent, letting her opponent throw her down and knock her onto the floor with a flump!
The victor stands over her opponent, hands on her hips, chuckling slightly. “Well, well, well, so much for daddy’s little princess,” she sneers. “I told you wasting your time in college was a terrible idea.”
The loser pushes herself up, only for the winner to press her foot to her face and push her back down.
“I don’t really get what the boss sees from you,” says the winner. “Just because you’re his kid, you get to be chosen? If you want to beat me, you should whip out all you’ve got,” she says, lifting her hand where a wicked gauntlet rests, a jewel in the center glowing with incredible power. “Let the blood flow and our excitement commence!”
“I… I promised,” says the defeated woman on the ground, standing up this time. “I promised I wouldn’t use it.”
“Well, then,” says her rival. “Guess I’ll just keep kicking that bitch ass of yours every time we’re here.”
“Only because you know you can’t kill me.”
The rival slams the daughter up against the wall, their training gi disheveled as she pushes that gauntlet-clad arm up against the daughter’s throat. “Ooh, you’re trying to push my buttons, aren’t you? Is that a kink you have, huh? Getting beaten and shamed, you dirty, pathetic slut?”
The glimmer flickers in the daughter’s eyes as she smirks. “And what if I am? Aren’t you into humiliating people, you whore?”
“Fuck,” she growls, dropping the daughter, running her hands up over her head and shuddering. “You know me too well, skank. How am I supposed to concentrate on teasing me like this?”
The daughter rubs her wrist, feeling the burning sensation there.
The rival turns, catching the motion. “You wanna unleash it, don’t you? The Witchblade—the great power that will make any woman a goddess. And you’re the one to possess it. God, I wanna rip it out of you like you wouldn’t believe.” She says this, reaching out the gauntlet-clad hand towards the daughter.
The daughter slaps the hand away, standing up and pressing her chest against the rival, taking a few steps forward and kicking her leg from under her. The daughter catches the rival by the arm, holding onto it in both hands, the back of her hand glowing with the burning crimson power of the ancient weapon within her.
“Don’t think me weak. Daddy chose me for a reason, and I’ll do whatever I can to ensure he’s happy.” She says this, squeezing and pulling, bending the arm backward.
“Gaah!? You bitch! You cheated!”
“What, I thought you liked weak girls you could push around?” the daughter coos, a glimmer of sadistic glee in her eye. “Or, is my daddy’s cock so far up your ass that you can’t see what’s going on?”
The rival’s eyes widen when she hears these words, gritting her teeth as she struggles against the daughter’s hold. “You… something’s wrong. What are you doing?”
“Daddy’s been running his empire for years,” She says, yanking the rival up to stand up against her, tits pressed against tits. “It’s time for a change of pace, and I’m going to let it happen.”
“W… why are you telling me this?” her rival asks.
“Because… You can either be a part of it or…”
As her voice trails off, the marks on her hand glow and erupt, turning into the near vine-like growths that mark the bearer of the Witchblade. It covers her body, shredding her training outfit. Her eyes grow dark and burn with a fire of desire, and she licks her lips, breathing heavily as she strokes her clawed weapon over her cheek. “Or you could be torn to shreds.”
“Now, that’s what I’m talking about!” the rival says. Her blade emerges and covers her body, mirroring the initial transformation but with a certain wrongness. While she is too clad in the gnarly bladed armor, its ragged and unsymmetrical patterns show off its synthetic nature. “So, the old man’s brat is planning on taking him out, is she? This could be fun.”
“Maybe,” says the bearer of the Witchblade, stepping in circles slowly around her opponent, “But why would you defend him? Do you love him?”
“Fuck that!” growls the rival. “I just want to bathe in your blood. I don’t care why I have to fight you!” With that, she rushes forward, her claws ready to dig into the exposed parts of the Witchblade wielder’s skin.
“Oooh, someone’s down bad,” coos the wielder, rushing forward herself.
The two clash, grabbing each other’s hands, locking fingers, and banging their foreheads together.
“Fuck yeah, I am! Being able to fuckin’ kill the Witchblade’s wielder? Who wouldn’t get moist from that?”
“Ooooh, well, too bad you won’t get to!’ retorts the wielder. And so, she smashes her mouth against her rival.
Their grips tighten on one another, holding hands as their mouths part and their tongues dance, their bodies mash and grind and rub against one another in that sultry and seductive dance they’ve been in time after time again.
When the wielder pulls her mouth free, her tongue is bridged by her opponent’s. She slurps up the spit and licks her lips. 
“So, you gonna fight me or fuck me?” asks her rival.
“Yes,” she chuckles.