Carmella

                                   


As Robert lay on his stomach, affectionately caressing Carmella's breasts, his lover felt a compulsion to punch him out.
There was no rational motivation  for this impulse. Robert had been a fun date, who paid for dinner and gave her multiple orgasms. At that moment, he was telling Carmella how much he liked her and admired her as a fighter. Carmella felt giddy with happiness.
"Hey, Rob...?"
"Yeah? What's up, honey?"
BAP!
The painful impact of Carmella's bare fist put him out instantly.
Sprawled unconscious on the mattress, Robert looked so cute to Carmella. She was happy she had followed her instinct.
Carmella checked Robert's eyes, seeing only whites. Leaping from the bed, she looked adoringly at Robert as she got dressed. The exhilaration she felt leaving Robert's house stayed with Carmella all day. She knew she'd hear from him soon.


                                                            

Carmella had always been a skinny girl, but training at the Amazonia Boxing Club. Skin art of vibrant blues and reds covered her upper body, making her attractive to men and women.
She never boxed women.
Carmella left a lot of men asleep on the canvas. And if a felled opponent was only dazed or groggy, she was not shy about a follow up cheap shot to the prone fighter's chin. The women spectators at these matches always cheered her on.
Things went differently with Robert when he asked Carmella for a match. He was pummeled for three rounds. Carmella read the pleasure Robert got from her beating him and knocked him out cold as he approached climax.
After Emma the Ref counted Robert out and declared Carmella's victory, Carmella leaned into his face. The spectators went silent, anticipating the "WHACK!" of the final punch to Robert's chin.  Instead, Carmella kissed her victim. Shock spread among the women who gathered for the match, especially Sophia, Carmella's girlfriend.

"It was nothing," explained Carmella on the subway ride back to their apartment. "He just looked so cute."
Sophia glared back, disbelieving. Early in their romance, Carmella acknowledged that she had been with men. They were "spasms," desire that came and went and only meaningful as orgasms.
"Beating up some schmuck with a raging boner and then kissing him in front of everyone isn't 'nothing'!" Sophia shot back.
Neither of them talked for the rest of the night.

  
                                                                                                                

Thoughts of Robert wouldn't leave Carmella alone. A weird happiness seized her when she saw Robert at the Amazonia or any place else. It was his image that Carmella gratified herself to when Sophia wasn't around.
Carmella's "happiness" eventually became too much for her and she had Robert in bed again. She noticed that Robert adored her body art. Or better, adored the body covered in the tattoos of brilliant red and blue.
"I want to be in you," he told her once after they spent most of the afternoon making love.
"You just were!"
"No, I mean in 'you' ! In your skin!"
Robert pressed his lips on Carmella's multicolored shoulder. "In that skin!"
"Well, Rob, I encourage you to keep trying..."

Her first thought was that Carmella was unfaithful with another woman, maybe someone at the her job managing a bakery or maybe at the Amazonia. Carmella was more attentive to Sophia in the last few weeks, letting Sophia choose what they would have for diner. And Carmella made love with renewed energy.
By chance, Sophia heard two men at the Amazonia talking about how Robert was "plugging a dyke." Enraged, she wanted to strangle Carmella. She calmed down, however, when she realized she might lose her beloved in the process.
Instead, Sophia decided to deal with Robert directly.
"End it with Carm, now!"
Sophia was calm, but forceful in tone.
"End what?" Robert snapped back.
"Messing with Carmella! She's mine!"
Robert tried self-serving realism as an approach.
"Me and Carmella aren't in love, I'm not going to steal her from you or something like that!" Robert began. "Carmella's bi and we both know it."
Sophia waited.
"Did you ever consider that she likes men, maybe even needs them from time to time? It's not unknown. Carmella likes men, also, no big..."
THUD!
WHAP!
POW!
SOCK!
Rock hard fists collided with Robert four times. The final punch made him sleep.
"I'm the only man she loves! Sophia shouted in Robert's face.
                  

Three Stories From the Amazonia

                                                   Persistence

"You really want to fight me?" Rou  asked Joseph.
They stood alone in a private ring at the Amazonia Boxing Club, on a Saturday afternoon.
"Yeah!" Joseph responded, confidently.
Rou was a body builder with a deceptively innocent looking face that distracted foes from the power coiled behind her boxing gloves. Since joining the Amazonia, Rou had left five women and five men on the canvas.
"Okay with me."
WHAP!
Joseph landed on his back, eyes shut, lower jaw hanging open comically.
Rou gave Joseph a courtesy ten count, but he was out cold.
"Dream about me, boy!" she said before leaving the ring.

Rou was not surprised to see Joseph again. His type, known as "pussy worshipers," were common at the Amazonia. Two of the men Rou defeated were in that category and turned out to be very satisfying lovers...after they got out of the hospital.
"Joe, do you want me to put you in an ICU?" asked Rou. She was close enough to her opponent to kiss him. "There's no shame in saying 'Yes' "
Joseph opened his mouth to answer when Rou embraced him. Her arms were warm and her kiss deeply sexual.
"Joe?"
"Yeah...?"
They devoured each other with their eyes.
"Good night, boy!"
POW!
Rou didn't bother with a ten count. Sprawled at her feet, Joseph was suddenly very handsome. She kissed him.

Three tries showed persistence. And horniness, Rou thought. I should give him one night for all that effort.
"Are you trying to get with me, Joseph?"
"You bet!"
Joseph sounded certain. "I like you a lot!"
"You're a nice guy, a real gentleman. But I don't feel it."
Joseph's right glove hammered Rou's belly, shocking the woman with the pain he inflicted. Joseph fled backward a few paces, terrified by what he had just done.
When Rou was able to stand and breath freely, she stalked Joseph, driving him into a turnbuckle.
"Wait, Rou, I'm sorry! I lost cont....!"
"Fucking asshole!"
The punch put Joseph in a five minute slumber.
Rou cursed him loudly for a few moments and then fell silent She stared at the inert body before her, a dreamy satisfaction radiating from Joseph's face.
"Fine! Fine!" she said between gasps of excitement. "you win!"
She kneeled beside Joseph, continuing to admit defeat.

                                                  



                               Jenni Fights Above Her Weight
   

 

Just because a guy was muscular didn't mean he was good for anything in the ring. Jenni believed that about Art, her who challenged her to a match.
Probably thinks I'm an easy victory, she thought. He'll see!
She also knew that a smaller, faster boxer can out fight a larger one, even a male. A month earlier, she had knocked Will spark out in the fourth round at the Amazonia Boxing Club.
"Sweet dreams!" she called out as Will was removed from the ring by his two girlfriends. The victory was doubly gratifying for Jenni because of well founded rumors that Will was a submissive, with an Asian girl fetish.
"He creamed himself when I put his lights out!" she told Kaylee, her second and new girlfriend, as they went to the dressing room. Both of them laughed like school girls.

Jenni did dance circles around Art in the ring. Striking with rapid and precise combinations, she then danced away, verbally taunting Art to keep up. As Jenni moved in a random half circle, Art unleashed his best weapon. The right materialized, slamming into Jenni's head. Then she lay on the canvas, control of her limbs ebbing away. She knew Art had put his entire body into that punch and that the fight was over.
All Jenni could do was look up through darkening vision at Emma the Ref calling out numbers. As her eyes closed, Jenni saw Art, tall and strong, standing a few feet away, pleased that her trip to Dreamland was underway.

 

                                                        Nina

    Nina's eyes half opened, revealing that she was still in the boxing ring. To her distress, so was Susanna, who was slowly prowling back and forth in front of her.
When Susanna started banging her boxing gloves together, Nina knew she was going to be knocked out again.
Nina and Susanna were both members of the Amazonia Boxing Club and sex partners of Kurt Sommers.. Susanna, a big-chested, long legged blond, had been with Kurt a year before he started sleeping with Nina. When Susanna heard talk in the women's locker room that Nina was bragging about "rocking Kurt's world!", she confronted her boyfriend.
"I still love you! Nina is nothing," Kurt explained, glibly. "I mean 'was nothing'!"
Susanna's nut shot ended their relationship.

"I can't believe a light weight bitch like you imagined you could win."
Nina's hearing came back mid way through Susanna's string of insults. When Nina tried to move her arms, she discovered that her rival had draped her over the top rope while Nina was out cold.
Nina didn't remember going out in round three, just a fearsome determination in Susanna's eyes, the painful impact of leather on her face, and blackness. Her opponent was right, Nina had no business being in the ring with the angry blond. Nina's entire body ached. Had Kurt's cock been worth all this? Nina smiled faintly.
"Time to wrap this up, little tramp!" Susanna announced, delivering an upper cut to Nina's chin. Nina sagged into a KO daze.
Susanna unhooked the semi conscious girl's arms, catching Nina as she sank heavily to the canvas. Susanna stood Nina up, but the battered girl wobbled dramatically.
"Nina? Anything to say before I send you back to Slumberland?"
The groggy fighter struggled to collected her thoughts and murmured, "Please...please...just knock me...out...?"
"Sure!"
Susanna tilted Nina's chin into the correct position and threw a mean-spirited right hook.
WHACK!
Nina went out on her feet. Only her lips moved, whispering "Ga nigh...daddie..."
With a laugh, Susanna nudged the girl's head with her glove.
Using the lipstick from her gym bag, Susanna wrote "SLUT!" on Nina's forehead and made an extensive digital record of her rival's humiliation.

 

The Black Eye

"Taming" was the word Dona used to describe what she liked doing to certain men. "Branding" was a more accurate term. The men she chose to make her own were not really in need of taming. They worshiped female sexuality, mostly the aggressive type. Being physically overwhelmed by a woman they were attracted to was a primal pleasure for them.
Donna instinctively knew when Jon was ready for "taming," the summer he graduated Blake Mitchell University. Being friends with his mother allowed Donna to track his time at BMU, including his two, long-term girlfriends.
Both were big breasted, statuesque blonds. Beth Ann was the cheer captain for the university baseball team. Karen was a self defense instructor for the school's female population.
"She gets rough with my boy," confided Jon's mother over coffee. "He seems to like it, I guess. They look happy."
"I bet they are." Donna said.
The news of Jon and Karen was the assurance Donna was looking for. It was just a matter of patience.

 The fun with Karen ended with their June graduation. She returned to her family farm in Emporia, Ill., leaving Jon alone and unhappy, with nothing but a business degree. One summer afternoon, Dona asked Jon if they could have lunch, so they could talk awhile.
Jon accepted and didn't think anything was wrong when Dona ordered him not tot ell his mother.
In twenty-two years on Earth, Jon had never been happier.
After blonds in his own age range, Jon loved forty plus women with long legs and full breasts. Since Jon discovered women, he had wanted "Ms. Donna," as he wanted all the women who fell under the rubric "God, I'd love to fuck her!" But when Dona actually came on to him, Jon shifted her to a different category: "God, I am going to fuck her!"

"I want to ask you something, Jon." Dona said when they sat on her bed.  Donna had spent their entire lunch feigning interest as Jon talked the loss of Karen out of his system. They drove back to Donna's house to have a beer.
Jon was curious about what Donna wanted to know.
"Have you ever been punched by a woman?"
The question startled Jon, but not because it never happened, but because Karen loved wrestling as foreplay to rough sex. Jon got used to that pretty quickly. When Jon admitted the truth, Donna asked if he enjoyed it.
"Sure." he answered, failing to sound casual.
"Did Karen hit you?"
"Yeah, a few times."

Donna yanked a duffle bag from under her bed and removed a single, black boxing glove. "You know I box, right?"

"Yeah...!" Jon's eyes went wide as he marveled at the glove Dona held in his face.

Confidently, Donna continued. “This boxing glove is special, one of my favorites. It’s for fighting dirty and other things.”

“Like?” Jon swallowed hard.

Donna handed Jon the glove and took off her shirt, revealing a pair of lovely white breasts, each adorned with pink nipples. Donna's abs were smooth and hard.

"Like knocking out certain men. Men like that kind of thing, men like you!"

Jon was already gently pawing Donna's breasts when he started to say "When did..."

"When I heard about Karen. And by the way you looked at my tits."

She picked up the glove. "This is a loaded glove for when you want to KO your opponent dishonestly. I really want to knock you out and I think you want me to do it now!"
Without speaking, Jon consented with a long kiss. When they broke their embrace, Donna began fitting the loaded glove on her right hand.

"When I punch you with this, two things will happen. First, lights out, lover boy! Instant knockout! Off to dreamland!"

Jon's breathing grew rapid and he became aroused at the core of his being.

"Second, you're gonna have a bright purple and black shiner when you come out of it! Giving men black eyes gets me so hot! And it's going to hurt, a lot! And you'll be so in love with me!"
Donna ordered Jon to kiss her boxing glove and he complied.

"Now, just look at my breasts...!" Donna purred.

What felt like a sand bag smacked Jon in the face, detonating an explosion of multi colored stars and pinwheels.

He landed on the bed, spark out cold, smiling at the erotic images dancing in his brain. Donna sat down beside him and socked Jon again in the right eye.
"Just to make sure, my love!" she told him.
Jon had a ten minute nap.

He was sat up, leaning against Donna, when he came out of it. Both of them were naked. A full length mirror stood a foot from the edge of the bed.
"Look at you! You're so cute with that black eye!"
Donna was pointing at their reflection, smiling happily. Now Jon could see himself, a dark purple half-circle on his right eye, which suddenly began to throb.
"I got you good, Jon! Did you dream about me? All the boys like you do!"
Jon nodded listlessly. Donna grabbed her IPhone from beside her and held it in front of them. "Say 'Pussy!', Jon!"
Donna snapped multiple pics of herself and the groggy male. Her favorite was of her planting a kiss on Jon's face on. "So cute!" she commented as Jon passed out.

They fucked all summer. Whenever Jon's contusion showed signs of healing, Donna "renewed" it.
During one bare knuckle match in Donna's bedroom, Jon muttered "Mommy..." after taking a knock out punch.
Jon landed his first real job in the city at the end of August, just on time for Donna to end things. She would never admit it, but Jon knew she had found another guy. To make up for his disappointment, Donna sponsored his membership at the Amazonia Boxing Club, where met a nice girl named Monique.
 

 

Kiki Enjoys Ray

"I had one guy, he had me make up my face like we'd been in a boxing match that I lost badly. I did up some bruises and a shiner on my right eye. It was all fake, but it looked like he really roughed me up."
Kiki looked for a reaction from Ray, who smiled with interest and continued to listen. But she saw the spark in his eyes.
"Then I dressed in boxing gear, gloves and everything, and lay on the bed like he'd knocked me out cold. I called him and pretended to come out it!"
"Yeah..." Ray said.
"I described how it felt to get worked over and knocked out by this guy. Then I passed out a second time and he had sex with me, the female boxer he defeated."
Kiki watched Ray playing the whole scene in his head. "Is that what you're looking for, Ray?"
Many of this potential client's buttons had been pushed, but not the main one.
"Not exactly." he answered. "I want to lose!"
"You want role play being KOed by me?"
"No, I want you to really punch me out."
Kiki knew for a fact that Ray had won and lost mixed matches at the Amazonia Boxing Club. When she asked about him in the women's locker room, four woman testified that he had given them very satisfying one offs. Why did he want to be KOed? she asked herself.
"I can do that for certain!"
They discussed the session fees and rules. Kiki always went through this part in a business like, but friendly manner. Ray paid half as they agreed and Kiki went into the more pleasurable process of gathering the details of what Ray wanted to do. Both Kiki and her clients found this a satisfying form of foreplay.
"That shouldn't be a problem, Ray. In fact, I think it will be very enjoyable."

In the last four years, Kiki's acting career had picked up steadily. Lots of commercial work, bit parts on sit coms, and even the voice of Mrs. Santa Claus in a children's Christmas movie. But I love this!, she thought, unpacking her duffle bag in Ray's bedroom. Hitting men feels so good!
"Ready, sweet heart?" Kiki chirped to Ray, who sat on his bed.
"Yep!" he replied, like a child about to receive a long anticipated birthday gift. He quickly shifted onto the floor, back against the mattress. Taking off her one piece bathing suit, Kiki revealed her large, beautiful tits. Bending down, she gave Ray a long look at them and then playfully rubbed her breasts in his face.
 "You like that?"
There was a smothered "YES!"
"Good. I wanted you to have something nice to dream about."
Siting in front of Ray, Kiki pulled back her fist.
On impact, stars exploded everywhere. Ray felt a prickly pain and then a sinking sensation. The room went dark, but he could still see Kiki through the bright lights swirling in his eyes.
"You not asleep yet, boy?"
Kiki gave the dazed male a long, deep kiss.
"That was your good night kiss, lover!"
Her fist went back farther this time, fingers clinched tighter. "Dream about me!"
The second detonation flung Ray into darkness. For a few moments, he heard Kiki ask if he creamed himself and then that vanished. Ray was out cold.

 

 

"Come on, boy, you can do it one more time!"
Ray opened his eyes slowly, taking in the bare chested Kiki, now wearing a pair of black boxing gloves. With the right glove, already covered in cum, Kiki was aggressively masturbating Ray's purple erection. Through the pain in his face, Ray felt the pleasure of orgasms Kiki had already given him seep through.
An intense rush fired in Ray's loins and he ejaculated on himself a fourth time.
"I knew you could, Ray!" Kiki whispered in his ear. "You in love with me?"
As groggy as he was, Ray nodded strongly.
"After all those orgasms, I hope so!"
Letting Ray savor the afterglow of the climax she brought him to, Kiki got up and checked on the digital camera that recorded the entire session. A bonus she provided to guys she really liked.
"Ready for round two, honey?"
Kiki landed a left hook with the clean glove.
WAP!
Ray fell completely in love with Kiki. There was no one on earth but Kiki and himself.
Kiki gave Ray a ten count for the camera and lifted him onto his bed. Adjusting the camera to record her client in his new position, Kiki felt she could love Ray. Well, there was a possibility, anyway.

Ray did have erotic dreams for the five minutes he was out cold. The women he fucked kept changing. Kiki shifted into Cathy, who bled into Jennifer Lopez, who became his last girlfriend, Amelia, who was Kerry Washington.

"Which did you like it better with? Bare knuckle or glove on?"
This was a break in their coupling. Ray was on his back, physically spent, with Kiki on her side, fondling his half-erect penis.
"Christ, you were so sexy with your bare fist about to slug me!" Ray admitted, exchanging a kiss with Kiki. "But a woman in boxing gloves always gets me hard!"
"So I saw!"
For forty minutes they had sex after Ray came around, Kiki kept her boxing gloves on. Just before climax, she would whisper "I'm gonna knock you out!" in Ray's ear. He would have violent orgasms.
"I think I'm in love with you, Kiki!" Ray declared with all the sincerity he could muster.
Kiki gawked at him momentarily and then smiled. Every now ans then a client made this kind of admission.
"No, Ray, you're not. We just had incredible sex and I made one of your deepest fantasies a reality. You think the pleasure you're feeling is love, but its just coitus."
"But its not just..."
"Shhh! No!' She silenced Ray by pressing her middle finger to his lips. "You paid me to fuck you stupid and I did. You're not thinking straight."
She leaped from the bed and started to dress.
"It's for real! I'm serious!"
Nodding her head in agreement, Kiki tied her sneakers. "You know, I'd usually punch you out to give you a lesson about love."
She kissed Ray again, against her better judgement, because, deep down, Kiki liked him a lot.
"But you'd propose marriage when you woke up."
He fell back heartbroken on the bed, his head turned from Kiki.
"Ray?" she purred affectionately.
"Yes?" He turned back to her.
WAP!
Ray never knew, until he woke much later, what hit him.
Kiki applied some lipstick and left a lip print on Ray's cheek.
"See you soon, lover..." she said and walked out of Ray's apartment.

 

Miranda's Lesson - The Conclusion

Since they were in elementary school, Rosalind was protective of her little sister, Miranda, warning her off certain boys. Miranda always went after them.
Rosalind Li was already married and owned a successful ice cream parlor franchise. She was annoyed that Miranda was making all the same mistakes, but this time with results worse than the routine broken heart.

 

Her first step was simple: beat up Rich. Rosalind felt he didn't deserve a public trouncing at the Amazonia Boxing Club, since Rich was the personification of the men that made Miranda miserable.

This was going to be personal for Rosalind, almost intimate.

Rosalind tracked Rich, observing when he came home, alone or with a woman and when he left in the morning. On Wednesdays, he came home alone and stayed in.
Rich was about to unlock his apartment door when the hall way lights went out. Rich cursed and fumbled with his keys.
"Hello Rich!" a female voice said in the dark. It was clear and assertive and very near Rich.
"Who the fuck are you?" demanded Rich.
Rosalind slugged Rich in the gut. A combination to his head painfully disoriented Rich, who groaned loudly. Rosalind took a deep breath and released a torrent of punches on her victim. Unable to see his attacker, who had him pinned on the wall, Rich felt hard fists rain all over him.
When Rosalind finally stopped, Rich, semi-conscious, sank to the floor, his face and body throbbing in agony.
"Can you hear me, asshole?!" she demanded.
Rich made a barely audible grunt.
"Good. This was for Miranda and because you need to learn manners!"
Rosalind hauled Rich to his feet. "Good night!"
The impact of the right hook seemed to last forever. When the pain disappeared, it took consciousness with it. Rosalind pointed the beam of a small flashlight on Rich's battered body.
"Okay, you're out!"

While Rosalind and her husband ate breakfast Thursday morning, local news played on the kitchen stereo.
"Responding to an anonymous phone call, police and EMTs found a local man, aged 32, unconscious after an apparent assault in the hallway of his apartment!" the announcer said.
"Hey sweetie, what are you laughing at?" her husband asked, sipping his coffee.
"The man was rushed to Blake Mitchell University Hospital. Doctors say he will eventually make a full recovery."
"Nothing." Rosalind replied, sweetly.

These were the matches that Emma the Ref wished her friend Desiree would avoid. KOed cold was how Desiree usually finished fights instigated by the enraged girlfriends of the women, and sometimes men, she seduced.
But an avenging sister was a new wrinkle, Emma admitted.
Desiree had accepted Rosalind's challenge casually. She was pleased Rosalind was out to avenge her sister, because Desiree had every intention of knocking out Rosalind, also.

 

From the start, the fighters were locked in an embrace of punches. While Desiree could move faster, Rosalind was taller and younger. She pounded on Desiree, feeling the way she did in elementary school, beating up girls from the lower grades.
"I pray this hurts, saobi!" Rosalind sneered as she worked Desiree's body. There was real pleasure seeing the little heart breaker flinch from every punch.
"Too bad your partner in double teaming Miranda isn't here to see this!"
A hard upper cut cracked into Desiree's chin.
"But he's still in a hospital bed, which is where you're headed tonight!"
Rosalind pummeled Desiree's belly.
The next punch was a blur to Desiree. She never saw it arrive. Her head snapped sideways and Desiree stood still, half sagging on her feet, deep in a KO daze. Desiree looked on dopily while her opponent walked the stunned fighter to the ropes. The ringside crowd broke into cheers of encouragement for Rosalind.

"If you can hear me, you little jiànhuò, it's time for you to sleep! See this!?"
She held her right fist in Desiree's face. This fist about to put you out. Kiss it!"
Desiree didn't have to be told twice. If a short nap on the canvas was going to take away her pain, she was all for it. Desiree pressed her lips on the glove.
The impact of the punch fragmented reality and when it reformed, Desiree could barely stand. Rosalind stepped back and hit Desiree's mid section. Bent forward, Desiree made a crying-moan. Rosalind fired a brutal upper cut.

That last punch crossed Desiree's eyes comically. The pain faded away as she lost consciousness, giving Desiree a few seconds to remember her first time with Peter. She loved him even then.
Desiree never felt her body strike the canvas. Emma started the ten count, certain her friend's lights were out.
Emma glanced at Rosalind, whop beamed happiness with Desiree's public destruction.
"Winner by a complete KO, Rosalind!"
The victor made one turn around the ring, gloves over her head. Then Rosalind stepped from the ring to embrace her younger sister as Emma and Peter carried Desiree to the recovery room.

 

 

 

 

A Married Woman

 

She was married, but didn't talk about it very much. What Debbie did with other men at the Amazonia Boxing Club had nothing to do with her marriage, which was largely stable and happy. Her husband, Robert, had a permanent mistress, a fact Debbie neglected to mention to her lovers. It was more fun if they thought she was as a cheating, bad girl.
Lewis was surprised at how attractive Debbie was in person. In his four years at the Amazonia, he feed on a steady diet of mostly gym bunnies-twentyish, big breasted, and, to his taste, mostly blonds.
Debbie was slender, verging on thin and was brunette. But she was strong and a good boxer. Lewis was impressed after watching her floor three challengers, including his ex, Lauren.
"She just has the punch," his friend Sam told him as they both watched Lauren being carried from the ring to the recovery room.
"I heard Little Miss Punching Bag used to be your girl," Debbie addressed Lewis after she climbed out of the ring. "I hope you weren't upset by me KOing her cold like that?"
Lewis wasn't sure how to react. "Lauren knows how to fight," he finally said. "You're just better than she is."
Debbie asked Lewis if they could meet up sometime. "We can talk, see if I want to try you out."
"Try me out?" he replied, excited and confused.
"Sure."
Lewis noticed, for the first time, that Debbie's biceps were skinny and well developed at the same time. He agreed.

Debbie's first date with a new man was always in a public place. She had to be careful. So she suggested the Christine Dupree Public Park near her house.
"Hey, what's with the gloves?!" Lewis asked, very surprised.
"I said I was going to try you out!"
Debbie wore yellow boxing gloves that seemed perfect with her auburn hair and set look of sexy aggression in her eyes.
"But...ah...I don't have gloves..."
Lewis felt he should back out of the date, but didn't. The afternoon was warm and sunny and the only people around were mothers with strollers and toddlers, who were very distant. Maybe this will lead to something, he decided.
"I'll be fine, I'm not afraid of your hard fists. Come on!"
The couple danced tentatively, Lewis treating the improvised match as foreplay, which was how Debbie saw it, too. Debbie was serious about foreplay.
"I know your kind, Lewis," Debbie declared, smacking her date hard in the face. "Your dick must be like marble by now!"
Lewis retaliated with a combination that Debbie swerved away from. He saw her glove snap back just behind her head. Debbie looked so strong and sexual to him.
WAP!!
Lewis went out instantly. He landed on the soft grass.
Debbie inhaled joyously. "So cute!" she moaned. "So fuckable!"
She knelt beside Lewis, planting a long kiss on his lips. There was a strong impulse to take advantage of Lewis in public, ride his erection to an orgasm.
No, wait, she told herself. Save it for the all nighter.
Debbie kissed Lewis again and promised their next date would be much longer. When she got home, Debbie gratified herself with the mental image of Lewis unconscious.

The note Lewis found in his hand when he came to distracted him from his aching jaw. It read, "My place," followed by an address, "Saturday, 1 p.m. Did you sleep well, honey?"
Their first date was on a Tuesday. It took all of the next four days for Lewis' intense anger at being publicly punched out by a woman to be buried by the intense lust he felt for Debbie. By Saturday afternoon, he was beyond horny.
When Debbie opened the front door of the spacious, two story house, she wore a skimpy black top and matching, tight shorts.
"You made it, Lewis!" She clasped his hand and guided him into the living room. "You're not still angry with me, are you?" Debbie asked, affixing a white boxing glove over her left hand.
Lewis wanted to answer "Yes!", but a stunned "No...." fell from his lips.
"Did I give you a bruise?"
Lewis touched the still tender red blotch on his jaw. "No..." he managed a second time.
Debbie extended her ungloved hand toward Lewis. He stared mindlessly for a few seconds and then grabbed up the other glove from the chair. Slowly he pulled it over her right hand.
Abruptly, Debbie sprang into a defensive stance, throwing punches in the air in front of Lewis's face, making playful "WAPS!" and "POWS!" each time.
"Come here!"
Clasping Lewis's face with her boxing gloves, Debbie pulled her new lover into a soulful kiss.
"Do you want me to wear these gloves when I fuck you stupid tonight?"
Increased respiration broke up Lewis' positive response.
"Good!" whispered Debbie in his ear.
BAP!
Lewis head and body staggered and swayed goofily as reality spiraled into blackness. He slumped heavily onto Debbie, who pushed him roughly against the wall. Lewis, out for the count, slide down until he was sitting, legs in a "V," head lolled on his shoulder.
"The old Honey Trap works every time," Debbie exclaimed. In one movement, she hefted Lewis over her shoulder and carried him into her bedroom.

Sometimes they would met at Debbie's house, where Lewis had to sneak in the back door. This was always in the early afternoon, because Debbie enjoyed the fiction of cheating on an unsuspecting spouse.
Most often they made love at Lewis's townhouse or at one of the high-end no-tell motels on Route 3. Whenever the lovers boxed, Debbie won by a knockout, which baffled Lewis as strongly as it aroused him.

One Saturday morning at a motel, Debbie stripped down to her white underwear, put on her black boxing gloves, and challenged Lewis to a fight. As always, the suggestion excited him, but that morning he had a bigger priority.
"Let's do it first," suggested Lewis. "Then you can beat me up all you like."
"No!" Debbie ordered, throwing a pair of gloves to Lewis. "Put them on. Today is special."
"How?" Lewis asked, putting on the gloves.
"You're gonna knock me out!"
The tone of Debbie's voice was factual.
"You can do it, Lewis," she continued. "In fact, you've been dying to since the moment we met."
Lewis was motionless, while Debbie waved her fists encouragingly. Punch my lights out, boy! It's in you!"
Lewis put up his fists to see how serious Debbie was.
"Put me in my place, Lewis! You've been my bitch for so long!"
He held back until Debbie peeked over her gloves. "Do it, Lewis!"
BAP!!
The impact of the hard right upper cut filled the small bedroom. Debbie heard a massive explosion, followed by a super nova of multicolored stars. The punch lifted Debbie into the air, landing her on the bed, limbs in all directions.
Lewis caught his breath and ran to Debbie. "Christ, are you okay? Speak to me, Debbie!"
Glassy eyed, Debbie looked at her lover. "I knew you could do it..." Debbie mumbled affectionately as she faded away.
Lewis sank into a nearby chair. Looking at the unconscious woman, he knew their time was over. After all the fucking they'd done, Lewis had given Debbie the ultimate orgasm.

A month later Lewis ran into Sam at the Amazonia. Sam was watching Debbie work over Kaylee, his former girlfriend. The buxom blond took the final right from Debbie, that propelled her to the canvas, where she slept through Emma the Ref's ten count.
"Damn, she's a powerful woman!" declared the visibly excited Sam. "Kaylee is out for the night!"
Debbie paraded around the ring as Emma the Ref announced her victory by a complete knockout.
"Debbie wants to me at the park tomorrow afternoon," Sam informed his friend.
"Good for you," replied Lewis.

 

 

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.