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Valenzuela vs the Chinese Amazon Wang in Hong Kong

Starring

Valenzuela (deleted member)

Humble Wang

Valenzuela: Valenzuela Tonight is the Tough Gal MMA Competition hosted by the Red Light Sports Bar in Hong Kong, an upmarket establishment in the central district of this very crowded city. I love MMA because it is as close to real fighting as you can come, with a mix of boxing, kickboxing, grappling, and Muay Thai all rolled into one. And tonight, I fight a Chinese woman named Wang, who is unusual in size for both a woman and an Asian woman at that. But I’m ready to kick her ass, and as I wait in the locker room preparing for the fight, dressed in my red sports bra, green briefs, and white 4 oz MMA fingerless gloves......

I contemplate my strategy for winning the fight. There’s a knock on the door......and I’m told it’s time to go to the octagonal cage. I move towards the entrance of the bar area, where the cage is the central feature......and wait until I am announced, “Ladies and Gentlemen, welcome to MMA fight night at the Red Light!!!!!!!......We are pleased to host the Tough Gal MMA Competition tonight, and the first to enter the ring, coming all the way from Mexico……weighing in at 125 lbs and standing 5 ft 3 in tall, and being 32 years of age, is Carla Valenzuelaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!” With this introduction, I move toward the cage, get checked by the ref, and then enter, bouncing on my feet near my side of the cage.

Humble_Wang: I am a pro MMA fighter......but for me, it’s all about the money. My goal is to knock my opponent out cold and collect my deserved cash. So I’m thrilled to take an underground MMA match in my hometown China. Without telling my pro-team, I throw on my compression gear and fingerless gloves and head out. In the locker room, I loosen my limbs and plan exactly how I’ll spend my prize. When the call comes......"Time to fight"......I grab my black mouthguard and head out to the octagon. “Now…let me introduce the next fighter…Damn it…What the hell? Is that Wang? Humble Wang? Who the hell invited her here to fight. She’s a……” I glance back with a smile and a ‘shut up’ gesture to silence him. “Ahhhh oook……and Wang……from China, 25 years old, 5 ft 11 in and 195lbs. Let’s see what will happen to our guest, the Mexican pretty……” My look shuts him down again. Still smiling politely, I bite down on my mouthguard and wave to you before the fight begins.

Humble_Wang:

Valenzuela: Valenzuela I smirk as I return your wave......then the ref calls us to the center of the cage for instructions. I stare blankly at you throughout the briefing. When he finishes, he says we may touch gloves if we wish. I raise my glove to meet yours, then return to my side of the cage and keep bouncing on my toes......waiting for the bell.

Humble_Wang: After tapping gloves, I return to my corner and strip off my training jacket......revealing my strong, muscled frame. I watch you as you keep bouncing, warming yourself up. I throw a dramatic roundhouse kick in the air just to stir the crowd. I can hear murmurs from the audience. “Wang…that’s Wang…Why is she here in this octagon? I bet the Mexican hasn’t heard of her yet, or she wouldn’t have accepted the fight……” I smile to myself. They know what’s coming......and I’m ready to deliver.

Humble_Wang:

Valenzuela:DING! DING! DING! The bell rings......and I waste no time. I move straight to the center of the cage, not bothering to feel you out slowly. I throw a quick flurry of left......right......left straight punches toward your face, trying to raise your guard and keep it high. Then I pivot hard on my right foot, planning to follow with a backside kick aimed at your abs......just below your navel......hoping it will land flush and hurt.

Humble_Wang: “Left......right......left……” I read your strikes aloud as they come at me. My head moves smoothly with your punches, ducking just low enough that your shots skim over my shoulder. As you throw your kick......I counter with a Muay Thai-style straight kick to your gut, my right calf tensing with the effort. My foot slams directly into your navel......cutting off your kick before it even finishes.

Valenzuela: I lunge forward just as planned, fists flying…….left, right, left……trying to get you to bite on the high guard. And you do. I see your arms lift, your body exposed, and I twist my hips hard to launch that side kick low and mean, only to feel something slam into me first. Your foot crashes straight into my navel before my leg is even halfway out. “Guhhhh…” The air explodes from my lungs as your heel digs deep, folding me up like a worn suitcase. My breath catches, pain ripples through my core, and my kick dies mid-swing. My arms drop instinctively to shield my stomach as I stagger back a step, bent forward and gasping… eyes wide, body trembling. I walked right into that.

Humble_Wang: ‘God damn, so evil kick…..As the crowd reacts to your collapse, I sidestep around you......and set up a series of strikes. First, I throw a quick, traditional Chinese-style palm strike to your jaw to make you lean back and expose your body. Then, rotating through my hips, I fire a strong left hook toward your liver. Following that......as your body turns......I aim a sudden right uppercut, sneaking up from a low angle under your guard, targeting your jawline. “Right......left......right again, V! I’m coming!”

Valenzuela: You circle hard into my right as I’m trying to suck in air and recover from that gut-stabbing kick. I see the first motion—your palm darting toward my face, and I instinctively tilt my head back. It clips me, but not cleanly……just enough to rattle me. I feel my balance tilt, and I know what’s coming next. You’re setting up that high-low-high combo……a trap I’ve walked into before.

I clench my ribs and drop my right elbow tight to my side as your left hook drives in. The punch lands, deep and sharp against my arm, and only partially clipping my liver area, sending a bolt of pain through me……but I don’t collapse.

And then, right on cue, you launch the uppercut. I don’t back away. I twist with it, driving forward, chest-to-chest, smothering your angle so your glove grazes my shoulder instead of detonating on my chin. I’m close now……too close for finesse. I drive a short right hook into your ribs……not clean, not elegant……just raw and desperate. Then I twist my torso and rip a left uppercut up through the narrow gap between us, aimed at your chin……a counter thrown through fire and instinct.

Humble_Wang: I grit my teeth as your shots land. Your rib punch makes me grunt……not because of power, but because it throws off my flow. You’re digging deep……fighting back hard. That uppercut scratches my lips, forcing me to bite down on my mouthguard. You’re not strong enough to break me, but you're stubborn enough to make me bleed.

You charge in like a wild woman, and I shove your shoulders hard to disrupt your rhythm. But just as my palm releases your shoulder……I change tactics. My hand snaps into a fist and I unleash a sudden downward punch to your jaw, using the explosive "inch-power" of Wing Chun. A sharp, close-quarters strike designed to snap your head from only a few inches of movement.

Your punch had missed, and now I’m hunting. As your weight shifts again, I pivot and snap a roundhouse toward your cheek……a high, fast whip that aims to punish your face while you’re still caught inside my trap.

Valenzuela: You shove into me, and I brace for a push……but I feel the sudden change in pressure……you’re hiding something. I try to brace as your “inch strike” clips my jaw with a short, brutal snap. It doesn’t knock me out……but it jars me, hard. My head jerks and I drop lower out of reflex. That’s when your shin flashes toward my cheek. I dip lower, and it smacks into the top of my shoulder instead of my face……still hard, still dizzying. My body shudders from the blow, but I stay low and surge in. I try to trap your leg as it retracts and thrust a sharp elbow under your ribs……quick, dirty, and mean. My left arm comes up not to punch……but to jam against your balance. If I can keep you from resetting, I’ve got a shot. I plant my feet and launch a tight, digging right uppercut into your body, trying to punch through the pain and turn the tide with sheer grit.

Humble_Wang: Your resistance is unrelenting……your elbow drives into my side and I feel the sting ripple through my ribs. I hiss between my teeth, tasting sweat and blood as your uppercut lands again. It’s not clean……but it’s disruptive. My rhythm starts to crack, and I know I can’t let that happen.

So I change the game. Your shoulder’s under my calf……a risky spot. I twist my torso violently, repositioning……then leap. My body lifts upward, weight shifting, and I throw both legs around your shoulders. My thighs lock across your upper back and I grip your head, trying to pull you down. My legs cinch like steel around your scapulas, and I throw all my weight into the drop. We go down together……your body crashing face-first into the canvas beneath me. I’m not just pinning you. I’m hunting your arms. I want to break you……and then finish it.

Valenzuela: Fuck……I feel your weight before I see your leap. One second I’m attacking……the next your thighs snap around my neck and shoulders like a trap. You twist and crash down on me……and I have no time to catch my balance.

My face smashes into the canvas……not flush, but hard enough to daze me. Your thighs clamp tight. Your arms snake in……and suddenly, my limbs are being pulled back at impossible angles. I grunt……twist……and writhe, but your legs dig into my back like steel bars. I try to post on one elbow……the other arm’s trapped. My right arm’s screaming, twisted near the breaking point. You start to rain down punches……blunt, savage jabs and hammer fists that thud against my face again and again. I try to turn away, but you follow……smashing down relentlessly. Blood floods my mouth. My eyes swell. My ribs are howling. I twist……wedge a knee under our tangled bodies……and shove hard. My right elbow finally slips loose, and I drive it into your thigh……not to hurt, just to make space. Then I slam my forearm across your ribs, bridge hard, and shrimp with everything I’ve got……trying to slide a leg through and scramble free. I’m bloodied, gasping……but not broken.

Humble_Wang: Yes girl!!... I’m not rushing the BJJ yet. First I want to cause chaos. I stop grabbing your head with my palms and start chasing the control points. As your arms scramble beneath me... trying to strike or escape... I tighten my legs across your upper body. My thighs squeeze down across your scapulas... heels dragging hard against your spine. I shift my weight to lock your shoulders down and stretch your arms. My legs become levers... the heels anchored in your back... the thighs pressing inward... pulling your arms in the wrong direction. You are spread like a bird with broken wings. And now that your arms are pinned... your face is open. I start raining straight jabs and hammer fists down on you. “Hey... have a smile, babe! UFC! Ug! Mf! Uh! Uhff!” My fists crash into your cheeks, into your nose... your face starts to bleed. “Where are you gonna hide that face, V? Look at me... and eat my fists! Hey!!!!!!”

Valenzuela: My arms... fuck... they’re stretched back so far it feels like they’re being pulled out of their sockets. Every time I shift, your thighs clamp tighter, grinding against my scapulas, and your damn heels dig into the middle of my spine like knives. I can’t get my elbows back under me, can’t get leverage. My right arm is burning from the strain... my shoulder’s screaming... bent in the wrong direction. Then the punches start coming. One crashes into my cheekbone... red flashes explode behind my eyes. The next hammers my nose... I taste blood. I try to turn away, but you follow, pounding my face over and over. My jaw throbs... I can’t tell where the sweat ends and the blood begins. But you’re leaning too far now... you want the finish too badly. You’re chasing my face with wild fists, overcommitting. That’s your mistake. I twist hard to the left, ignoring the pain in my arms, rolling my right hip underneath me. I can’t throw you clean off, but I jam my knee between us... wedging into the space. Then I bridge hard, torqueing my whole body, trying to buck you to the side. My right arm slips free, barely. I jam my elbow back into your inner thigh, forcing just a sliver of space. “Get the fuck OFF me!!” I twist again and slam my left forearm into your ribs, then start shrimping out... trying to slide a leg through and scramble to my knees. I’m bloodied... gasping...

Humble_Wang: You're still fighting back... huh. I feel your hips shifting... a knee jamming into the space between us... your elbow shoving at my ribs. I grunt as you twist and slide, trying to slip away, but I’m not letting you off the hook that easy. As you shrimp and your body slides beneath me, I shift to the side and drive my left shin down across your pelvis to pin your hips. My right leg curls back and up... swinging to hook behind your shoulder as I shift for position. Your arm’s free now, but I’ve got something else in mind. You think you’re scrambling to your knees... but I’ve already circled, flowing like water around your movement. I duck under your rising torso and clamp your waist from the side. You’re halfway upright... too upright. I shoot my arms under your armpits and lock my hands behind your back in a tight body lock... chest to chest... my feet planted.

"Let’s fly," I whisper.

I drop my hips low... then surge upward with everything I’ve got. My body arches back as I lift you off the canvas, your legs kicking as I execute a perfect suplex. For a heartbeat, time freezes... your body in the air above me... and then—BAM! Your shoulders crash down first, slamming into the mat with a thunderous impact. I land atop you, the force knocking the wind from your lungs. The whole cage rattles. My arms loosen for a moment... then tighten again as I try to swing over to mount. Your head is bouncing... eyes blinking... but I know you're still in there. So I raise my right fist high and send it crashing down toward your face. This isn’t play anymore.

Valenzuela: The canvas explodes against my back as I slam down from the suplex, the breath ripped from my lungs in a sharp, voiceless gasp. Stars burst behind my eyes, my arms flailing for a split second before instinct pulls them in tight again. My spine arches involuntarily and for a moment I can’t even feel my legs. I blink hard, trying to focus, and then your weight crashes down on top of me.

Your grip loosens just enough for me to suck in a ragged breath, but I know what’s coming next. I feel your knees slide into position... you’re mounting. I try to buck my hips, but my core feels like it’s on fire, and I can’t find the leverage. I lift my arms to block, but your right fist comes barreling down first, smashing into my left cheek and snapping my head to the side. I grunt and roll with it, trying to deflect the next punch with my forearm, but the blow still lands across my jaw, sending another flash of pain lancing through my face.

I twist my hips again, this time harder, trying to bridge with my legs even if it burns. I slam my heels into the mat and arch, trying to knock you off balance, even if only for a second. My left hand comes up, aiming to frame your throat or cheek to push you away, while my right arm tucks in, guarding the side of my head. I can't outmuscle you... not from here. So I try to create chaos. I thrash my legs, shimmy my hips, slam my shoulder sideways and try to roll to my right, even just enough to wedge a knee between us again. You're stronger... you're heavier... but I’ve been in this hell before and survived. So I fight for every inch of space like my life depends on it. Because maybe right now... it does.

Humble_Wang: You’re tougher than I expected, still squirming and bucking beneath me even after all that punishment. But I can feel your energy fading……your movements are slower, more desperate now. My balance wobbles for half a second as you bridge, but I dig my knees tighter into your ribs and lower my center of gravity. I’m not giving up this mount……not when I’m so close to the finish.

Your left arm pushes at my throat, and I grimace, feeling your knuckles dig into my skin. I bat your hand away and immediately shift my weight forward, sliding up your body, letting my thighs clamp around your upper torso. You’re trying to wedge your knee up, but I drop my hips to smother the space. I can feel your breath heaving beneath me, hot and ragged.

I raise my right arm and bring it down hard……a hammerfist slamming into the side of your face. Blood spatters onto my wrist. Another strike……then another. My left hand grabs your wrist and pins it above your head, limiting your defenses. Then I unleash again……right, right, right……fist after fist smashing into your jaw, your cheek, your nose. Your face is slick with sweat and blood now, and my gloves are soaked. I hear the crowd roaring, feel the heat of the lights, smell the copper tang of violence. “Still awake, V?” I hiss down at you……“Then take this!” I rear back one more time and throw a heavy elbow down toward your temple, sharp and fast, trying to crack what little defense you have left. You wanted to survive……but I came to dominate.

Valenzuela: Your chest mashes down on my face, smothering what little breath I have left. My cheek grinds into the canvas, slick with blood and sweat, and I can barely hear the crowd over the sound of your fists raining down, each slap and crack a punctuation mark on my humiliation. My left ribs scream with each knee you drive in, and I’m not sure what hurts more, my body or the feeling that I’m being broken in front of everyone. But I’m not done. I grunt, pushing my hips hard to the side, not to roll you off, but to make just enough space. I twist my neck, sucking in air wherever I can. My right hand claws under me, elbow screaming, and I plant it hard. My left arm’s shaky, but I drag it under my chest, dragging my weight up inch by inch. You keep pounding, but I turtle tighter, grit my teeth, and rise, not gracefully, not clean, but I force my knees under me. I’m crouched now, arms tucked, blood dripping off my jaw. I shove upward, trying to stand, even if it means taking a kick in the ribs, anything to get vertical again. Because I’m not going out on my back.

Humble_Wang: Noticing you are trying to stand from a crouch. I stop my kneeing to your ribs at the moment, and fake to follow your move. So fluency to get your back with my arms across your neck. Your head leaning down to dodge the irregular punches on your cheek and the same time avoid being stuck into a bare choke. And I must distract your idea and focus. After a period of rest from the knee striking, I threw a heavy knee thrust again to the same position suddenly. Re-stimulation maybe make worse pain in the same position and I wanna catch the chance that you staggered at the moment, that’s the chance that my biceps can choke your throat in a barechoke.

Valenzuela: That knee… FUCK!!!!!… it lands flush in my ribs again, right on the same damn spot you've been wrecking since the ground war began. My body jolts, pain radiating out in white-hot pulses, and I almost drop back down. My vision blurs, and my breath comes out in a ragged gasp, but I bite down on the pain because if I go down now, you finish me. Your arms start to slither around my neck from behind, hunting for a rear naked choke, but my chin’s already tucked. I feel your weight press in closer, greedy for the finish. That’s your mistake. I snap my left elbow backward, aimed straight for your ribs or hip, whatever I can catch. I don’t care if it hurts me too. All I need is a flinch, a pause, something to loosen your grip just long enough. Then I twist hard to my left, planting my right foot and lowering my center of gravity. I try to hook your arm, grip your wrist, and throw, shoulder dipping, hips turning, muscles screaming, trying to pull off a classic judo seoi nage. You’ve got the weight advantage, and I’m busted up, but I’ve trained this a thousand times. I don’t need it to be pretty, I just need it to work. If I get that momentum… if I feel your balance give even a little… I'll launch you forward over my shoulder, aiming to slam you hard to the canvas and give myself even two seconds to reset, breathe, and finally turn this tide. Blood runs down my chin, but my eyes burn with fire.

Humble_Wang: That throw… it comes fast, too fast for me to recover cleanly. My arms only manage to clamp around the back of your head, not your neck and my legs are still fumbling, searching for a proper wrap around your waist. Your judo technique works. The way your hips twist and pull completely shakes my center of gravity, and before I can adjust ‘Bom!’ I’m slammed flat onto the canvas. “Uggggmfuck!” The crowd roars, thrilled by your execution. Maybe they’ve never seen me tossed like this, not even in a full pro match.

I know what comes next, ground control, so I act before you can pin me. From my back, I throw a quick barrage of hammer fists, aimed at your cheek. “One… one-two!” Not in a rhythm, not in a flow, just raw, scattered strikes meant to break your focus. ‘Pa! Pa! Bomm—Pa!’ Two heavy hammer blows, a sharp uppercut from below, then a slicing palm strike, each one fast, dirty, unpredictable.

Even now, I’m grinning. This is fun. Chaotic. Violent. Maybe it’s time to break something, to sap the fight from your heart. My right fist keeps landing on your face, relentless, while my left arm traps your limb to the mat, locked in place under my armpit. “Nice throw, Val… but all you’ve done is bring yourself closer to the punching range. Uh! Uh! Uh!” My fists start coming down harder, meaner. Your sweat and blood splash across my gloves, across my chest, and my knuckles ring out with each brutal connection. Blzzzz! Blzzzzz! It’s not precision anymore—it’s punishment. And I’m smiling like the devil while I dish it out.

Valenzuela: The moment I throw you, I try to press forward……but your fists are already flying. I block the first two with my forearms……but the third clips my cheek. Your left arm grabs mine, locking it under your side. I kick down at your wrist, trying to free it, then stumble back toward the cage wall. I’m gasping for breath, vision swimming. My whole body aches. But I know I need a second……just one second. I reset my stance against the cage, fists raised again, even if my arms feel like they’re made of lead. Blood trickles down my chin……and I wait for you to come to me.

Humble_Wang: I roll backward……out of your reach……and get to my feet. When I look up, you’re already leaning on the cage, breathing hard. I nod, walking toward you……right palm extended. A glove tap……a show of respect. We’re still fighting……but some things matter more.

Valenzuela:I take your tap……nod back……and then circle right. My breathing is shallow……but steadying. I twitch my shoulder as if throwing a jab……then fire a right cross at your temple. You raise your guard……but that was the trap. I follow with a wide left hook, stepping around your guard, then dive in close and aim a right uppercut straight through the middle of your defense……trying to crush your chin. Each movement hurts. Each one sprays sweat and blood into the air. But I’m still in this……still fighting.

Humble_Wang: After you’re tapping the gloves, you are so fast to back in the fight. I fall for your feint at first……raising my arms high to shield my face. Your right cross clips my ear, but it’s not clean. Then your left hook sweeps in……I feel the wind off it……and I twist away just in time. You’re pressing close……and I know an uppercut’s coming. I duck under, tuck my chin, and twist from the hips.

Then I strike. My fist blasts up from low……not at your chin……but into your chest……right between the ribs, under the bra line. I throw everything into it……aiming to drive the air from your lungs.

Valenzuela: Your guard is tighter this time, and I feel it as my knuckles scrape off your forearms… not clean, but not nothing either. My right hand barely clips your ear and I know it’s not enough. You’re reading me too well now. My left hook comes in hot, but I feel your body shift, shoulders rolling, head ducking and I know you’ve seen it coming. I try to press the gap with a tight uppercut, a desperate burst of force through the middle, but before it even gets halfway, I see your hips twist. Fuck. I don’t even have time to pull back. Your uppercut blasts up from low; not at my chin like I feared… but lower. It smashes into my chest, right between the ribs, right under my bra, and everything seizes. My breath explodes out in a sharp, broken gasp as the pain blooms hot through my lungs and sternum. I stagger back two steps, arms folding tight across my chest, trying to hold myself together. My legs wobble, but I don’t drop.........not yet. I backpedal, blinking through the blood and sweat in my eyes, trying to raise my guard again. You're right on top of me now, and I can barely get enough air to think… but I stay on my feet, trying to circle, trying to reset, even if my body wants nothing more than to crumble.

Humble_Wang: No hesitation. I leap. My right knee lifts like a spear, and I crash it into your jaw as your guard comes up too slow. “TA!” I shout as your head snaps back and we both leave the ground. My body lands atop yours……my shoulder slamming into your chest……and we fall together. “BOOMMM!!” We crash to the canvas. I roll quickly, looking to finish this now.

Valenzuela: That fucking knee… it cracks into my chin before I even realize your feet have left the mat. My head snaps back violently, and for a split second the world just blinks, a white-hot flash in my brain as my legs give out.

Valenzuela: My body folds backward and I feel your weight crash onto my shoulder as I fly backwards through the air like a bird.

Valenzuela: I land hard on the canvass, moaning, my guard out to the side…. I don’t know how I’m still conscious. I just know my back is on the canvas, my jaw feels dislocated, and the only reason my eyes are still open is because they’re already staring at the lights.

Humble_Wang: I pounce……grabbing your arm and pinning your chest. My palm smashes into your face……then your solar plexus……then your face again. “Pom! Pom! Pom!” I’m driving you into the canvas……trying to end it.

Valenzuela: I can’t breathe. I can’t think. My arms won’t move fast enough. Each of your fists slams into my face, into my chest, and I feel my body jolting with every strike… my jaw shifts with each hit, my ribs scream, and I can feel the fight draining from me with every thunderous "Pom! Pom! Pom!" that rains down. I lift my arms once, weakly, instinct, but they don’t come up again. One glove flops limply against your side, the other sprawled useless on the mat. I blink once. Twice. Everything slows. My head lolls to the side, mouth slightly open, breath wheezing out in ragged spurts as blood drips from my busted lip. And then I tap. Barely. Once. Twice. With my right glove, against your thigh.

Humble_Wang: Before the second tap lands, the ref is already shouting. He dives in……grabs me……pulls me off. I almost throw one more punch before I realize what’s happening. He checks you, yanks your mouthguard out. “DING DING!”

The cage roars. I climb the fence, arms wide. “And the winner is……Sweet Dragon from China……HUMBLE WANG! Her record improves to 5–0–0 in official matches……15–0–2 in the underground bar circuit!”

Valenzuela: DING! DING! DING! DING!! You’re off me, but the pain stays. Everything hurts. My jaw’s wrecked……my ribs are agony……and my breath is shallow. I stare at the ceiling, arms spread wide……and I feel the crowd’s gaze like a weight. You’re celebrating……a 5’11”, 195-pound monster……and I’m lying broken at your feet. And all I feel is shame, MMA record now dropping to 10:13. I came here to prove something……that I still belonged. But now……I’m not so sure.

Humble_Wang:

Humble_Wang: I wipe the sweat off my face, jump down, and crouch beside you.

I offer a hand. “Not my goal to give you such horrible memories……just needed the prize. But you’re a real fighter, V. You made me pay for every second of it.”

Published: 2025-08-03, viewed 123 times.