Miranda's Lesson - Part One

 

Miranda Li was ferociously cute. All the men at the Amazonia Boxing Club were caught by her compact, attractive figure, flirty smile and out going manner. Newly graduated from Blake Mitchell University, with a international studied degree, she had knocked out four female opponents in a row, something not many newcomers achieved.
Rich was the first guy to challenge Miranda to a match.
"You could hold a girl like that in the palm of your hand," Rich commented to his friend, Sam.
"You planning to tag her?" Sam asked, knowing personally what motivated men to take on attractive women in the ring.
Rich was unconcerned. "If it happens, it happens."
"But you plan to win the bout?"
"In round three," answered Rich, after a brief reflection. "I like Miranda, she seems like a nice girl. As a gentleman, you need to show consideration."
"I know you will," replied Sam.

Miranda lay on her back, out cold, as predicted, in the third round. Rich watched from his corner the petite fighter slumber through Emma the Ref's ten count. The females who attended the match were overjoyed that the beautiful twentysomething had been laid out. Rich had seen this display before and was always amazed at how much people loved someone else's defeat.
He noticed Desiree among the crowd that was repeating each number in the count out. But Desiree watched Miranda in silence, her eyes gleaming with lust identical to the desire Rich was feeling.
Miranda's seconds, Amelia and Cathy,  placed the unconscious girl on a stretcher and carefully carried her from the ring. Out of concern and desire, Rich followed them to the dressing room, have shed his boxing gloves and put on sweat pants and a hoodie.
"You pasted Miranda completely, Rich," Cathy stated, very sarcastically. "Congrats!"
Rich watched Miranda's chest rise and fall as Cathy and Amelia worked to revive their friend. There was a tug at his sleeve. Rich turned and saw Desiree motioning to join her outside the dressing room.
"You really sent Miranda for a stroll down Dream Street," Desiree told Rich. Unlike Cathy, Desiree's praise was sincere.
"Yeah, so I see." Rich answered.
"She'll be fine. If I know girls like Miranda, and I do, this is her first knock out and she'll be slow to come out of it."
"Is that what you wanted to tell me, Dez?"
"No, I have a bet for you."
"Go on." said Rich, apprehensively.
"I bet you that I fuck Miranda before you can."
Rich was speechless for a few seconds. "I'm at a disadvantage there...I punched her lights out."
"Of course you did and you loved every second of it!"
The remark stabbed into Rich sharply.
"And?"
"Think how much you'd get out of nailing Miranda despite that?"
As far as Rich was concerned, Desiree was screwy and the sole reason his friend Peter married her had to be for love!
"I'm not interested in time tables, Dez. If I fuck her tomorrow or next week, what matters is that I do."
Desiree considered for a moment. "Fine. Forget sex. I bet you I can make Miranda fall in love with me first. Deal?"
Rich wanted to ask Desiree to define "Love," but the potential answers frightened him.
"Deal!"
The groaning from behind the dressing room door signaled that Miranda had finished her date with The Sandman.

 

It was Rich's doing that Miranda took a humiliating knock out, in front of her friends. Of course, getting KOed cold was a strong possibility at the Amazonia, as all the members knew. Rich hoped that if Miranda was naïve and inexperienced enough to go against a a taller, bigger male, she might believe his apology.
"Look at it this way, Miranda, you put up a good fight, against a man with two inches on you."
Rich and Miranda were sitting in a coffee shop a few blocks from Miranda's apartment. She remembered what it felt like to punch Rich's hard chest and abs, with no effect at all.
"You were just waiting me out, showing the little girl some pity before finishing me off."
Thank God she's smart, thought Rich.
"We were boxing, right? Knock outs happen. Did you not want me to take you seriously?"
"No."
"Right! Don't get discouraged, okay?"
"All right..." Miranda reluctantly agreed.
"I know!" Rich switched to a more paternal tone. "I can help train you."
"You would!?" Miranda quavered. No, wait...you can't..."
"Why the fu...ah, why not?"
"Desiree is already training me."
Bitch! Rich thought. "I imagine she is."
"And it's working out well." Miranda went on. "When I work with Dez as closely as we are, I'm becoming a better fighter!"
"Closely, huh? Did Dez tell you all that?"
"She did!"
"Of course." mumbled Rich.
"But Rich?"
He turned and saw Miranda looking at him with wide, probing eyes.
"What?"
"I do need training with other stuff...could you...help...me?"

At first Rich was happy seeing Miranda a few days a week and on alternate weekends. The couple tried new restaurants and movies, took road trips all over, and the sex was fantastic. But Miranda talked about Desiree much of the time, how great a trainer she was, but withholding the personal aspects of their relationship. Rich knew he was losing the bet.

He told Miranda that the only people in the world Desiree really loved were her husband and son and daughter.
"Women are disposable to her. I don't know why, but that's how she is," he added.
Miranda stared at Rich in confusion and anger. "No! Desiree is my mentor, she loves me!"
Rich felt a horrible exasperation at hitting the right nerve on the first try.
"It's true, Miranda, she's going to drop you soon."
"You're jealous!"
"I'm not!" insisted Rich. He considered telling his lover about the wager he made with Desiree. "Yes, all right, I am jealous! I don't want anyone sleeping with you but me! And that's because I don't like sharing...I don't like to lose!"
Miranda glared at him coldly. "I'm not a game!"
Desiree informed Miranda that she was a game.

The story of the bet stabbed into Miranda's gut. When Miranda slapped Desiree across the face, the older woman smiled.
Miranda encountered Rich a few days later at the Amazonia. She floored him with the hardest right hook she could muster.

The challenge match between Miranda and Desiree took place the next weekend. Miranda was eager to hurt Desiree, who watched her former lover from her corner of the ring.
She's pissed, Desiree observed to herself. Good.
"I know you, Miranda," Desiree said after the first round bell called out the fighters. "I know your body and how you move."
Miranda ignored the warning and struck at Desiree. She felt gratified when her fists connected, causing the older woman to retreat.
Desire provided a target  to pursue, tagging the newbie when she pulled in close.
"You need to learn patience, girl," Desiree taunted, after side stepping one of Miranda's counter punches.
This infuriated Miranda, who felt all the love and respect she felt for Desiree was betrayed. Between the two women, a furious exchange of punches erupted. Shouts of encouragement for both fighters soaked the air around the ring.
"I taught you!" Desiree said to Miranda as their fists pounded each other. "I taught you everything!"
Desiree slipped two powerful gut shots to her opponent, who twisted in agony.  A mean spirited upper cut exploded on Miranda's chin. She found herself dangling on the ropes, her arms turned to lead.
A series of punches to the young girl's midsection dimmed her vision. Miranda felt numb all over, unable to feel the punches that fell all over her.
Sometime during Desiree's assault, Miranda gave in and went to sleep.
Desiree saw that Miranda was out on her feet and stepped back. Eyes shut, jaw slack, Miranda took a half step forward and collapsed at Desiree's feet.
"I taught you!" Desiree shouted at the unconscious boxer. "And that's how I defeated you, bitch!"
 Emma shoved Desiree back to her corner and counted out Miranda.
"Winner by a knockout!" Emma declared. The victor paraded around the ring, fists in the air.
Emma and Cathy carried Miranda into the recovery room. The smelling salts jerked Miranda back to reality.

Melanie Plays Rough

When Melanie asked Will if wanted to wrestle her, he could barely sputter "Sure!"
Melanie was curvy, especially in the chest and her lovely face, with her warm smile, distracted a lot of men. Will just stared at her breasts.
"Knockouts only!" she purred at him. "You think you can handle me?"
"Easily." Will responded.
"Really? All of me? Other guys have tried..."
For a moment, both looked each over silently.
"I can handle you, no problem!"
"And how about Cathy?"
The name jerked Will from his trance. "Who?....Oh...she won't mind...as long as we just ...wrestle."
"Of course." agreed Melanie.

Melanie, people told Will, played rough.
"I got in the ring with her once," Anthony told Will as they sat in a bar near the Amazonia Boxing Club. "She fucking trounced me for three rounds. And then WHAP! I woke up in a hospital bed."
"Damn!" Will said.
"And that night, at two in the morning, Melanie snuck into my room, dressed in a Halloween nurse out fit!"
Anthony added that Melanie fucked him stupid in his hospital bed for an hour and a half.
"I was stunned that this big tited woman who beat me senseless was giving the best sex of my life. And guess what she did when she was sated?"
"What?" Will asked, drinking his beer.
"She punched my lights out again! Melanie got this evil look in her eyes right after our tenth orgasm and she slugged me. When I came out of it, she was gone."
Well, that was boxing, Will decided later.

There were occasional wrestling matches at the Amazonia, but they generated a large turnout. Melanie enjoyed adulation from the mostly female crowd that collected around the ring.
"How are you going to handle Will?" asked Kaylee, Melanie's second.
"Horn dog over there? Put him in dreamland in front of everyone here."
Will stood alone in his corner, experiencing blind lust combined with combativeness. His plan was to trap Melanie is a tight hold and deliver a neck chop KO.  When the bell rang, Will was imagining Melanie unconscious, lying spent in his arms.
Will tried to execute his plans as quickly as possible, but getting Melanie in the right position was difficult. The pair entwined their bodies in an effort to achieve a pin, but Melanie would always evade Will before he could finish her off.

Melanie elbowed Will hard under his chin, stunning her opponent. Will found himself on the canvas, Melanie's body pressing down on him. Sitting up, the female wrestler removed her top, exposing her cantaloupe-like tits. Instantly aroused, Will wanted to lose the match.
"Kiss them, now!" Melanie ordered in the sweetest voice she had. She gave him a full minute of pleasure to press his lips to her smooth, brown flesh.
"Hope you're enjoying this now!" she told him.
Amid vocal cheers of "Knock him out!!", Melanie lowered her breasts, sealing off Will's mouth and nose. Her arms snaked around the back of his head, locking him in place. Even though he was slowly going under, Will reveled in having female flesh pressed on his face. He wanted so badly to make love with Melanie.
Melanie whispered erotic promises to Will as he felt the knock out hit. Melanie was replaced by swirling bright lights and then total darkness. A distant bell sounded, followed by Emma the Ref declaring "You're out!!" and Will was unconscious.

There was a forest of raised iPhones recording her victory as Melanie gave her victim a long kiss and strutted to her corner.
Every woman presented celebrated Melanie's destruction of another male - except Cathy.
Will's girlfriend of three months hurled herself into the ring, walked over Will and confronted Melanie.
"I hope you don't think you own my man now!" threatened the brunette.
"Don't get excited, I'm just borrowing him," Melanie said, confidently. "I'll return him in a week or two. He'll be bruised and beaten up, but in a great mood."
"Bitch!"
Cathy swung impulsively at Melanie, who stepped away from the fist's path. The wrestler countered with an upper cut, which crashed into Cathy's jaw.
As she stumbled, a giddy smile appeared on Cathy's lips. She moaned a male name that wasn't Will's and landed on the canvas like a felled Sequoia.
Melanie strutted back to Will and hefted him over her shoulder. She paraded around the ring and then carried him out to her car.

 

Cruel to Be Kind

This was Jack's first boxing match with a woman. Actually, it was the first match ever for him. Male boxing bored him and he lacked the nerve, until now, to take on a women.
Jack stood in his corner of a boxing ring in the Oring Recreational Center of Blake Mitchell University, adoring his opponent, Joanie, a junior with shortish black hair in a brief pony tail and radiant blue eyes. He couldn't explain why, but the slender, athletic girl got him excited.
Joanie exchanged whispers with an equally short haired blond. Both of them smiled reassuringly at Jack. Then Joanie swapped a long kiss with her friend and walked out to Jack, raising her blue boxing gloves.
"You ready, Jack? Huh?"
The ringing flirtiness in Joanie's voice pierced Jack.
"Who is that?" Jack asked. They were probing each other with jabs and punches.
"Terry...my girlfriend..."
Vague disappointment clouded Jack's face.
"Don't worry, I go with guys, too."
The punches from both sides grew harder and faster.
"You like me, Jack? Is that why we're here?"
Before Jack answered, Joanie delivered a sharp right hook. He didn't go out instantly, but stood listlessly, dreaming that Joanie was naked except for her boxing gloves. A thick velvet curtain slammed down. Jack heard Joanie giggle like a tree full of song birds and then nothing at all.

"Natasha said he was a great guy and real good fuck."
Jack heard the name of his freshman year girlfriend, but that was not her voice. His eyes opened and Jack saw Joanie and Terry knelt on each side of him.
"Really?' asked Joanie, looking Jack over. "I think he's awake. How do you feel?"
Jack moaned slowly. The women helped him sit up.
"Did you dream about anything?" Terry asked him.
Jack sorted the images in his mind, selecting the most pleasing. "Your thighs..." he said to Joanie.
"What else?"
Jack savored the sweetness in Joanie's question and added all the erotic detail he could muster.

That night he fucked Donna, his room mate's cousin. They had met at a birthday party and had been messing around for almost a year.
Jack liked older women and, at forty-six, Donna was perfect - long legs, muscular biceps, firm breasts, and a "Fuck me now!' look in her eyes. Donna didn't love Jack, but she liked him very much. This fact made her sad, but she had the consolation of knowing that Jack lacked any concept of love at all.
"What happened to your face, Jack?" she asked as they lay in her bed.
"I had my first boxing match."
"I thought you said boxing was boring?"
"With a girl!"
Donna burst out laughing. "And she hit you?"
"Knocked me out cold in round one."
"You got wood, didn't you!?"
Donna was already stimulating her lover. He gave Donna a deep kiss. "I only get stiff for you, Donna!"
"Don't shit me, horn dog! You want her on her back!"
Donna felt Jack enter her again. She drank in the pleasure.

"She's got a girlfriend, too." Jack explained later.
"So? She got in the ring with you, she likes you."
"They laughed at me before the match."
"They could see your boner! Any woman laughs at that." Donna kissed him. "I fell in love with a girl in college."
"Yeah?" Jack said.
"It was great. We were together for two years and we both had men."
Jack congratulated himself on having sex with a bisexual woman. "Cool." he said. "What happened with her?"
Donna sat up on the bed, silent for a moment. "Time." she answered, unhurriedly.

Joanie was excited to back in the ring with Jack again. She was unsure if he would accept getting knocked out, in his first bout, by a woman. The worry wasn't necessary, he was as thrilled as she was.
As happy as she was to hit Jack, even possibly KO him a second time, Joanie knew she had a crush on her challenger. Still an amateur, Jack couldn't keep up with the more experienced fighter that Joanie was. Jack was in over his head, but his persistence was attractive to Joanie.
When she often caught his eye, she would smile affectionately at Jack, right to the moment Joanie knocked him out cold.
"I'm not bothering with the count this time," Terry demurred. "You sent him to Dreamland."
Joanie nodded absently, eyes fixed on Jack.
"Joanie?" prompted Terry. "You won by a knockout...again!"
"Ah-huh..." Joanie murmured and grabbed her gym bag, from which she removed a small camcorder. With complete absorption, the warrioress moved the camera the length of Jack's body, starting at his face, while speaking into the mike.
"Look at you, Jack! You're OUT for the count! You are SO out it! What a wuss! You know, Jack.." The picture focused on the raised midsection of Jack's trunks. "...I'm in love with you! Do you feel the same way? Looks like you do!"
Terry's eyes rolled. "Is all this 'personal use' or are you going to share with Mr. Honey Stick?"
Shoting Terry an evil stare, Jean snapped off the camcorder. "We are going to share it, tonight! Now don't talk over me!"
The narrative resumed. "I bet you are SO fucking happy a woman beat you up! I know your kind, you came all over yourself! My fist is iron and you were wasted the instant I hit you!"
Terry stifled her impulse to laugh and waited in Joanie's corner for the love letter to conclude.

The next two months slid past Jack so quickly he barely noticed them. Most of his spare time was dedicated to Joanie. Each day, they made a new discovery about each other. They often watched the film of Jack's second loss that Joanie made. Jack was experiencing unalloyed romantic love for the first time.
Donna expected this to happen, right from the day Jack first mentioned Joanie. So Donna texted Jack a reminder that he had other erotic obligations.
"I didn't see 'Property of Joanie' stenciled on your balls," Donna told Jack.
"I know. I'm sorry."
Jack sounded like a shamed little boy, which turned Donna on. Jack did regret neglecting Donna, especially after their weekend at the shore. Joanie was young and energetic, but Donna knew exactly what she was doing.
"And it won't go on forever, you and her."
Jack glared at Donna. "Why not?"
The older woman sighed. "You two are in your fornication phase. That will burn out and you'll see who each of you really are. Then you know what will happen?"
"What?" asked Jack, as if it were a trick question.
"You will find out who's in charge."

"Afraid to hit me?!" Joanie teased Jack. They were facing off in the ring again, at Joanie's suggestion. "Think I might not give you any if you hit me too hard?"
Jack had seriously considered that possibility. This was their first match since becoming a couple. Well, it's her idea, Jack told himself.
During a furious exchange of punches, Jack tagged Joanie's chin, making her stumble a few paces backward. Terror filled the pit of Jack's stomach as he watched Joanie wobble violently.
"Wow, Jack!" Joanie said, shaking her head a few times as she touched her glove to her chin. "That was very good! I felt that one! You almost knocked...me...ouuuu..."
Joanie's voice drifted away as her eyes closed and she drifted effortlessly to the canvas.
"Joanie!" Jack yelled. He checked her eyes, which were completely rolled up.
She slept a few minutes, regaining consciousness in Jack's arms. She told Jack there was no one but him in her affection from now on, except Terry, of course. Jack never mentioned Donna.

Picture by HitTheMats

                                            

The Love Match

 

There was movement in the back of the apartment, like window being opened. Then Atomic Girl stood before Max Monroe, one clinched fist on her curvy hip, the other clutching a gym bag over her shoulder.

Max stood up from the couch, staring blankly at the home invader.

"I missed you so much!" Atomic Girl chirped.

Max, a professional thief and counterfeiter, said nothing, unsure if it were better to run or confront the female crime fighter. Then he thought practically.

"Do you have a warrant, Atomic Girl?"

"I don't need a warrant for what I'm going to do!"

Max considered the possibilities. Previous experience taught Max that nothing was certain with Atomic Girl. "And what's that?"

Flinging her bag on the carpet between them, Atomic Girl explained," Beat you up a little and knock you out!"

"Why?"

"Because I get aroused by hitting men!" Atomic Girl flashed her bedroom eyes. "Before I...well, you know, Max!"

"Now you're getting a little crazy here!" stammered Max, looking for the escape route.

"Crazy?" the crime fighter asked. "I'm just horny. Women get horny, too, Max. I missed you!"

Atomic Girl wore a tight, black leotard and matching fish net stockings. She knew men like Max got stoked by that look.

"Yeah, Atomic Girl, I know that..."

"Bet you do!" Atomic Girl answered in a casual, sing-song voice as she unzipped the bag and removed a pair of red boxing gloves.

"Were you expecting a fight?" asked Max when Atomic Girl drew closer to him.

"Not exactly." Atomic Girl observed the gloves critically. "But if I KO you after a good fight, I won't complain!"

Seeing the big breasted super herione seductively pull on her boxing gloves made Max's heart race.

"Okay Max, I can see you want to do me right here!" Atomic Girl raised her fists. "But it would be soooo much better for me if I worked you over first! And probably for you, also!"

Atomic Girl banged her gloves together. Max only stared at the smooth flesh of her breasts.

"Oh silly Max!!"

Atomic Girl pulled her victim into a long kiss. "Now I gave you that not just because I love you. I want you to have something nice dream about, because this is going to hurt!"

BAM!!

 

 

If he were honest with himself (and conscious), Max would admit he was in love with Atomic Girl. Or at least in love with having sex with her, which was the same thing for Max Monroe.

Two months earlier, Max participated in a heist with members of The Sisterhood of Evil, an all female crime syndicate. The job was foiled by Atomic Girl, who zeroed in on Max. She beat him senseless.

Max awoke in Atomic Girl's bedroom. Atomic Girl stood naked beside him.

"See Max, I always knockout bad boys, but sometimes I like to keep them around awhile."

There was no problem seducing Max that night. Atomic Girl felt hurt when she woke and saw he was gone.

When he came to, Max was sprawled on his own bed. Atomic Girl lay beside him. Both were naked. She gave Max an affectionate kiss. "How you feeling, Max?"

"My head hurts...."

"It should, that's where I punched you, silly!"

Looking down, Max saw Atomic Girl's hand stroking his growing penis.

The next morning, Max brought breakfast in bed to Atomic Girl.

"Max, honey, this is so sweet!"

Atomic Girl sat up and kissed her lover, who settled the tray and then himself next to her.

"Last night was even better than our previous hook up." Atomic Girl purred in Max's ear. "I really love you!"

"Oh yeah?" Max said, pilfering a slice of her toast.

"Do you love me?"

"Of course!"

"Then you'd join me in fighting evil doers with Justice Force?!"

"Are you serious?"

"Yes! Be a good guy. Help us defeat super villains and master criminals."

"Ah...I'm...a master criminal."

Atomic Girl chuckled out loud. "No, you're not. You're a burglar!"

"And a wanted counterfeiter!"

"Okay," she conceded. "But you're better off with me!"

A thought suddenly struck Max. "You know, Atomic Girl, you are right! I will join Justice Force! I'll be right back."
Max darted into the kitchen and returned with two glasses of champagne. "Let's drink to our new future."
They clinked glasses and Max declared "I'll do it for love!" as Atomic Girl emptied her glass.

"That's strong bubbly..."

"Perrier-Jouët 2009." Max stated.

"I love you Max Monroe!"

"Really?"

"Ree...leee..."

Atomic Girl went light headed and her vision was blurry.

"Ree...leee..."she repeated and then giggled. "I liked...beating.. you up! Fuck you all...night...!"

Max caught Atomic Girl as she sagged forward. After leaving her on the bed, he dressed and then dressed the slumbering Atomic Girl.  

Atomic Girl woke five hours later in a motel room on Route 3. By the time she reached Max's apartment, it had been cleaned out.


Atomic Girl might not know where Max had vanished to, but she knew where he worked out
"You're an asshole!" she said, confronting him in the parking lot of the Amazonia Boxing Club.
"I see you enjoyed my sparkling wine from the vineyards of Micky Finn," Max responded, smugly.
"We're going to settle this in the ring!"
"Whenever you're ready."
"Knockouts only!" Atomic Girl suddenly felt excited.
"Sweet dreams, honey!"
"And if I win, you belong to me, Max!"
He pondered surrendering his freedom to one woman. "Agreed. What if I knock you out?"
"Not happening!" Atomic Girl turned away. "You might as well propose to me now!"

They touched gloves amid the cheers and shouts of the all female audience gathered at ringside.
"I'm sorry I have to beat you up, Max," Atomic Girl confessed, going on the offense. "You do look cute when you're out cold!"
"So do you!"
The punches were unleashed at once, Atomic Girl concentrating on the body, while Max responded enough times to keep her engaged. The problem for Max was finding Atomic Girl's vulnerabilities. She had never been defeated in combat, but he knew Atomic Girl was stupid in love with him.
By the third round, Max discovered that Atomic Girl had an exaggerated conception of "love taps." The battering was taking its toll on the male fighter.
"Hey, Max, would it be right for me to wear pure white to our wedding?" asked Atomic Girl, hammering her lover's chin with rapid punches.
There was silence and Max heard Emma the Ref call out "FIVE!" He gained his feet by "NINE!"
"You want to go on, Max?" Emma asked him. "Because I think this match ends with you unconscious and monogamous."
"I can do this!"
"Okay!" Emma stepped away from the fighters. "Box!"

They collided again. Atomic Girl was certain Max was on the run, a little more force behind the next KO punch and she would have her man.
Max was determined to win, because every good girl crime fighter deserved an all expenses paid tour of Dreamland.
A sharp upper cut landed flush on Atomic Girl's chin. Falling backward in a daze, Atomic Girl left her belly exposed. Max hit her twice just above her navel. Agony drove all the air from the super heroine. After a third punch, Atomic Girl dropped into the ropes. Max wished her "Good night!" and uncorked a second, punishing upper cut.
Atomic Girl wondered why it was getting dark all of a sudden.
Relentless waves of "Boo!" and "Asshole!" engulfed the ring when Atomic Girl went to the canvas, clearly out cold.
"Neutral corner, Max! Now!" Emma shouted. The count was swift and Emma raised Max's hand in the air while waving in the two stretcher carriers, Janie and Carmela.
Max watched wide eyed as Atomic Girl's limp body was carried out of the ring.
"She's beautiful!" he stammered to himself.
The crowd followed Atomic Girl to the recovery room, leaving Max standing alone in his corner.

 

A Maschoist's Love Story

It was all sexual.
Women in boxing gear just didn't give Lewis wood, they riveted his soul. All three seasons of the Wonder Woman television series were burned into his brain, along with every I Dream of Jeanie episode. Lewis only watched Batman reruns that featured Catwoman or Batgirl. During repeated viewings of the Catwoman movie, he always wondered why Halle Berry didn't knock out the police officers who were attempting to capture her.

While attending Blake Mitchell University, he encountered Inga, a Swedish exchange student and a member of the woman's boxing team. Nicknamed "The Viking," Inga was tall, slender, and buxom, with a broad, lustful smile  that flashed in response to Lewis' challenge to a boxing match.
As they fought, Lewis attention wandered from imaging Inga naked, except for her boxing gloves, and guessing what she thought of him.
A few moments later Inga said, "Dom sott, min karlek!" and Lewis was sleeping contentedly at her feet.
Inga and Lewis were a couple for a year and a half. Her nickname for him was "Hammaren."

Kiki had traits in common with Inga that Lewis loved. Big tits, strong arms and shoulders, and what he called "thunder thighs." As a struggling actress who did session work to supplement her income, Kiki could become whatever character her clients wanted. Lewis wanted a detailed description of how Kiki was going to beat him senseless and then have her do it. Depending on when he came around, Lewis got an hour of post knock out sex.
Every three weeks he would set up a session with Kiki. One day, while the pair were boxing in the ring Kiki had set up at a former Curvies Exercise Center on Route 46, Kiki became curious.
"Do you ever dream about me, Lewis?"
"All the time!"
"Oh yeah?" Kiki pretended to be surprised. "Are you in love with me?"
Lewis only grinned bashfully.
"You are!" Kiki proclaimed out loud. "You are, admit it, you are!"
"Yeah..."
"Don't be embarrassed. It happens top a lot of men I work with."
Lewis lowered his fists. "It does?"
"You bet! And I have an easy way of dealing with this situation."
"What?"
Her red gloved hurled toward his face - BAM!!
Out cold, Lewis dreamed of fucking Wonder Woman and Carly at work, who looked a lot like Jennifer Lopez.

The after glow of sex with Lewis stayed with Kiki well into the next day. That happened rarely with other clients and never before with Lewis. Whenever she visualized Lewis beneath her as they fucked, a glowing patch of purple under his right eye where her knockout punch impacted, she felt hers self falling for Lewis more and more.
But Kiki knew she was not a one man woman. Lewis was a one woman man in need of that woman.
 

Colette claimed to be looking for the right man. It was how she explained the trail of defeated males she had left in her wake during four years at the Amazonia Boxing Club. A small group of men came close. She knew by the look of yearning in their eyes from across the ring, like they wanted the beating she was going to deliver. In the end, however, they were in love with her and she didn't really care about them.
"Believe me, Lewis is exactly who you've been looking for."
Kiki assured Colette as she tied her friend's gloves. They had known each other a long time and often passed men between themselves.
"Are you sure?" the statuesque brunette asked.
"Completely."
"Then if he's so great, why don't you keep him?"
"You're looking for that one guy, the perfect fit?"
"Yes."
"Well, I'm not."
Colette couldn't argue with Kiki there.
"Okay," Colette banged her gloves together. "Let's do this."

Kiki strode into the ring first, waving Lewis to join her.  Colette, wearing blue trunks and a white sports bra that highlighted her breasts, was as few paces behind. Lewis watched the amazon step purposefully through the ropes and stride slowly up to him and Kiki.
"Lewis, this is Colette, I told you all about her."
Lewis' mouth failed to move, his lower jaw dangled loosely. He felt himself drown in Colette's brown eyes.
"Colette, this is my good friend, Lewis."
Colette surveyed the male boxer and smiled. Resting her fists on her hips, Colette said, "Yeah, you were right, Kiki."
"Right about what?" Lewis asked from deep inside a trance.
"You're cute, Lewis. I like that!" declared Colette, ignoring his question. "And I love your eyes!"
BAP!!
The hard upper cut exploded on Lewis' chin, jerking his head back. Out cold on his feet, Lewis slumped against Colette, his face on her chest. She knelt down and, with Kiki's help, hefted the unconscious Lewis over her shoulder.
"Kiki, you have the eye!" admitted Colette and walked out of the ring.

At the wedding, two years later, Colette raised a toast to bridesmaid Kiki for bring her and Lewis together.

Cynthia in Love

Being hesitant about getting in the ring, Cynthia was startled by being punched in the face by Desiree, a woman an inch shorter than herself. The punches became so rough and repetitive, that Cynthia's body stopped obeying orders to keep her gloved hands raised. One shot was so harsh that Cynthia went to sleep.

She woke confused in the recovery room, attended by Marcus, her boyfriend, and Emma the Ref.
"Is...it...over..?" Cynthia asked, her head swimming.
"Yep, that's it." Marcus kissed her lovingly on the forehead. "You got knocked out. How do you feel?"
"Weird..." She wasn't sure of the right word. "Did I hurt Desiree any?"
"A little, a few bruises." Emma said. "Good for your first fight."
I got trounced! Cynthia admitted to herself.
Emma shinned a small flash light in the recovering fighters eyes. "There's no concussion."
Despite her aching body, Cynthia wanted sex when they got home. When Marcus insisted she let her bruises heal, Cynthia shoved him into their bedroom.

Holding Cynthia in his arms at sunrise, Marcus wondered why Cynthia was so off the scale horny. She was dreaming of the woman who put her on the canvas. The erotic vision of Desiree, fists raised, promising a knock out, haunted Cynthia for days.
At dinner, Cynthia was honest with her boy friend.
"Marcus, I need to tell you something."
"What's that?" Marcus replied, looking up from his plate of pasta primavera. His glance lingered on Cynthia's still glowing black eye.
"I want to sleep with women!"
"Wha...?"
"I feel the need for sexual...contact with women.."
Setting down his fork, Marcus sat back in his chair. Okay, Marcus, he told himself, lets rise to the occasion. He remembered the words of his older brother when Marcus first got serious with a girl, "All women are bi. It's just a fact of nature, you'll see."
"When did this start?"
"I still love you, Marcus, you need to know that!"
Marcus grinned philosophically.
"Good. Have you made a friend yet?'
"No, but there is..."
"Who?"
"Desiree at the Amazonia."
"Of course! The lesbian Casanova!"
"I haven't been able to get her out of my mind since the match!"
"Where she beat you up!"
"And it felt great!" blurted Cynthia. There was an excited glow in her eyes.

Marcus had seen the entire match from Cynthia's corner. While Emma the Ref and Kaylee attended the unconscious fighter, Marcus watched Desiree in her red shorts and top, strutting across the ring, fists in the air. Those fucking thighs!, he thought, pulling an iPhone from his jeans pocket. As he took pictures of the victor, he noticed Cynthia, out like a light, legs spread in a "V," one glove lifeless on her stomach, the other limp on the canvas.
As the women spectators crammed around the ring, cheering Desiree's victory, Marcus was enthralled by Cynthia's vulnerability.
Marcus pretended to argue with Cynthia about her newly discovered desire, but then stopped.

A few days later, Cynthia worked up the courage to congratulate Desiree on winning their match, conceding that she was the better boxer.
Desiree warmly accepted the praise while they both sat in a booth at Concha's, Desiree's favorite bar.
Desiree could see Cynthia's eyes were fixed on her face. "It's pretty strange for you, isn't it?"
"Yeah. First time I box and I get knocked out."
"It's likely to happen." Desiree reached her hand to Cynthia's shiner, gently caressing it with her thumb. Cynthia barely flinched. "I got you good with that one! Do you think you'll try again?"
"Boxing?" Cynthia asked, slowly.
Desiree's fingers went down the other girl's cheeks.
"Yes."
"Sure..." The sensation of Desiree's touch thrilled Cynthia, reliving her first time with Marcus. The pair kissed for a minute. Desiree threw some dollars on the table as they left.

Marcus said nothing about all the time his girlfriend spent with Desiree. At first, Cynthia didn't notice his silence, so engulfed as she was by her new passion. Weeks later, at the dinner table, she looked at Marcus, trying to read his thoughts.
"I'm sorry I have been out so much with Desiree..."
Marcus glanced up, smiling. "How has it been going?"
Relief went through Cynthia like a tidal wave. "I think I'm in love!"
"Is Desiree?"
"Well..." Cynthia came up short for an answer, causing Marcus to laugh. Desiree, in all this time, had expressed none of her feelings.
"Look, I understand this is all new and you're exploring. Neither of us knows how this is going to end. But I'll always be here, no matter what. Okay?"
Cynthia nodded, feeling secure.

Cynthia didn't start crying until she saw Marcus, who was shocked at the tears streaming down her face.
Desiree, he thought. Like clockwork.
As he held her, Cynthia explained that Desiree, who she loved so much, had ended their relationship.
"She is going back to Kaylee, that stupid blond," Cynthia said, briefly restraining the tears. Marcus nodded. Kaylee often hooked up with Desiree when Kaylee was between guys.
"I need to hurt her!" Cynthia spat, angrily.
"Of course you do."

There was a large turnout for what was a semi-regular event at the Amazonia Boxing Club - a broken hearted lover getting even with Desiree.
It was clear Cynthia was fighting to hurt Desiree, not to win the match. Marcus watched the battle intently, shouting advice along with Cathy, Cynthia's friend. Cynthia didn't hear either of them, but punched Desiree's face, hoping to blacken her eye as had been done to her.
Desire expected all this, Cynthia was not her first fling. Weaving and dancing, Desiree presented herself as a target to her former lover and then darted away from most of the punches. She assumed Cynthia would get tired before she did.
That happened, but it took a few rounds longer than expected. By the fourth, both fighters were hammering each other, Desiree with more precision and Cynthia with more force. Desiree noticed her stamina was ebbing. She could not let Cynthia get the upper hand, she had already clocked Desiree hard a few times. From sheer determination, the new comer might knock Desiree out.

Disregarding the fatigue in her legs, Desiree pressed into Cynthia, opening up on her body. The taller girl crouched just enough to expose her head, which Desiree attacked violently. A double upper cut plowed into Cynthia's chin, spinning reality. Desiree launched at her belly and uncorked a third upper cut that knocked her opponent out on her feet.
Desiree staggered from the deeper exhaustion caused by her offensive. Cynthia stood flat footed, her arms dangling at her waist. Eyes open to cracks, Cynthia smiled because the pain was gone.
"Finish you off!" Desire shouted and tagged her prey with a left hook.
Cynthia went out instantly, flopping on her back, arms out.
Marcus had recorded everything.

 

Soul Mates

Both were experienced wrestlers. Harlan primarily boxed. But when Donna challenged him to a KOs only wrestling match, he said, "Why not?" The leader of the Cougar Clique needed to shown her place, he told himself.
Harlan asked Donna why she was suddenly interested in a man closer to her own age. Mostly her opponents were in their twenties, who she beat senseless and then fucked like a mad woman when they recovered.
"Because pussy always knocks out cock," Donna answered.
That was the first time Harlan heard that.
Attracted to "gym bunnies," sexually attractive women in their twenties and early thirties, Harlan had developed an eye for opponents/partners that were saddled with "Daddy issues." There were a lot of them at the Amazonia. Most of the competitors he laid out, took Harlan to bed.

Harlan found the Cougar Clique women attractive because they were attractive women. But seeing Donna only a few feet away, he was impressed by what great shape she was in.
"You look damn good, Donna!" he said, getting the bout started on a positive note.
"Thank you Harlan, you're a real gentleman to say that!"
Donna had been giving Harlan an extensive legs and ass show since entering the ring. The black tights and matching fish net stockings that she wore to any mixed wrestling match revealed a generous quantity of thigh and buttocks. And Harlan really admired those cheeks, small, smooth and well exercised.
"You ready for me to put you to sleep?" Harlan asked as they moved carefully toward each other.
"When you're ready!" Donna snapped back.
For a few minutes, the couple twisted into each other, rolling on the canvas for a dominant position. Although Harlan wore an athletic supporter for safety and courtesy, Donna could read the arousal in his eyes. He enjoyed such close contact with Donna, but Harlan wanted her to be the one headed for Dreamland.

Harlan had grabbed Donna from behind, his arms working toward her neck. Pushing back violently, Donna was able to escape before Harlan's arms clinched her throat completely. She elbowed his gut and leaped behind her adversary instantly.
Donna snapped her arms around Harlan's throat, yanking him to her chest. Harlan fought the hold, fueled by disbelief  at being trapped. The feminine arms contracted under his chin.
"Seeing stars yet, Silver Fox?" Donna whispered mockingly in his ear. "Huh? The spots should be hitting any moment!"
Harlan sputtered a few curses. He felt his breathing slow.
"Ever been KOed by a woman?!  After singing lullabies to all those sluts you fuck, how does it feel?!"
Donna wasn't sure Harlan could understand her.
Leaden arms fell, one by one, against Donna's naked thighs.
"Where you going, honey? Going out for the night?"
Harlan groaned faintly and thought of Sara, with long brown hair, big tits and multiple tattoos.
He had an orgasm and passed out.
Settling Harlan on his back, Donna gave him a long kiss and said, "You are mine, asshole!

In the weeks after the wrestling match, Harlan couldn't fuck Donna enough. She called her lover "tamed," aware that finally being defeated in combat with a women released strong desire in some men. Donna's long legs and round tits consumed his thoughts. They were soul mates.
He forgot everyone else. Harlan even forgot about Sara.  

Of all the women at the Amazonia Boxing Club Harlan had slept with, Sara was his favorite and the most frequent. They met at Sara's twenty-fourth birthday party, thrown by a group of Sara's girl friends, one of whom Harlan knew well.
Sara's body was dotted with vivid tattoos, which drove Harlan crazy. As their encounters multiplied, Sara grew attached to the older man, despite having male partners closer to her age.
"I don't know why," Sara explained to Desiree. "After we fuck, I feel so secure being held in his arms!"
When Sara found out Harlan was plowing Donna, she was enraged.
"That old sea-hag!" she exclaimed. "I'll deck that bitch!"

Donna knew Harlan possessed a string of "gym bunnies" that he made love to on rotation. She was surprised that one of them lacked the maturity not to be jealous. Harlan was also the first man her own age that she had been with since her divorce four years ago. He was an adult and therefore had more realistic expectations than the young men Donna had slept with.
She didn't want to lose Harlan to that brat!

Sara moved carefully in the ring, which surprised Donna. Female opponents tended to come straight at her and into a right hook. Sara was more like a leaf gliding in the wind, frustrating the older woman's effort to end matters with a close in combination.
"You got a shiner coming up, Donna!" Emma the Ref observed between the third and fourth rounds.
"Yeah, she tagged me good!"
"Look, you want to give her a KO and Sara's not cooperating," Emma went on. "If you're not careful, you're the one who's going to be carried from this ring!"
"Fine!" Donna blurted, signaling how angry she was.

Donna showed patience in the following round. Harlan belonged to her!
"Lights out, slut!" Donna shouted as she winded Sara with a combination to the younger woman's midsection. A hammered right hook spun the girl in a circle. When Sara faced her rival again, Donna jerked Sara's head back with a brutal upper cut. Donna punished Sara's exposed belly.
Somewhere among the punches that followed, Sara went out cold. The younger woman never realized it happened. There was just a furious blur of red leather and then sweet blackness.

Sara lay completely unconscious between Donna, who reveled in her triumph, and Emma calling out the ten count.