Desiree

By the age of 11, Desiree wanted to box. She was watching a fight on TV with her father one night. Desiree was fascinated with the two men beating each other in the ring, their bodies moving with relentless grace and power.

“Can I do that, Popi?” she asked. Desiree’s father glanced down at his daughter a little startled.

“I guess so, Dez,” he answered, smiling. “You can do anything you want. But why would you want to?”

The idea of his wiry, headstrong Desiree boxing didn’t make him happy. Desiree threw her fists up to her face, imitating the boxers on the screen.

“But if you want to, go ahead, Dez,” her father conceded.

Though she was a small girl, Desiree developed strength in her arms and hips. She found instructional books on boxing and practiced in front of the full length closet mirror in her room, bobbing and weaving as she threw bare knuckled punches at her reflection. Desiree imagined herself against a female opponent, always taller and bigger than herself, modeled on some girls a few grades ahead of her in school. Each mental battle ended with Desiree’s opponent flat on the canvas from a perfect left hook or a from the hip right upper cut.

One night Desiree dreamt she was in an actual fight. The other girl resembled a grappler Desiree had seen in a ladies wrestling magazine: frizzy-curly hair that fell around her pretty face and settle on her broad, feminine shoulders. Desiree loved the way the woman’s short, tight trunks clung to her thighs and well toned ass.

“You’re a cutie, Desiree,” the woman said as the pair circled, gloves up, and ready to box. Desiree got excited watching every move the woman made, held by her adversary’s gleaming brown eyes.

“Sleep tight, Desiree,” the woman whispered affectionately as she threw her punch. The blow floored Desiree, leaving her out cold. Pleasure cascaded through the dreaming teenager.

In high school, Desiree continually picked fights with straight girls. Guys would follow Desiree, hoping for a catfight to erupt and Desiree made friends with a few of them. By graduation, she had slept with all her male friends. Even if her heart belonged to female partners, sex with men was a frequent and intense joy for Desiree.


Peter became her trainer just after Desiree enrolled in night school and the gym. Watching the skinny girl sparing with another female boxer, Peter saw a core of aggression in his new pupil. Desiree put her entire body into each punch. The blows were devastating when they connected, but Desiree got tired quickly. Peter worked on defense with his student. She learned to duck and block, but the lessons meant nothing to Desiree.

“You’re holding me back!” Desiree grunted to Peter. “I want to keep hitting until the bitch goes down!”

Desiree glanced up from undoing her gloves in the corner of the ring and Peter saw a white gleam from her radiant eyes. They made love in Desiree’s apartment that night.

Peter surprised himself by not falling for Desiree. Both the training and sex continued, one never complicating the other. Alternate weekends, Peter drove Desiree to a vacation house he had by a lake. When they were alone, especially after sex, all of Desiree’s aggression vanished. Peter would wake near dawn and find Desiree asleep against his chest; her arms embracing him as her were a giant teddy bear.

Desiree never asked Peter about his life outside the gym, except once by mistake. Noticing a framed picture of a brown haired woman in jeans and a T-shirt, Desiree asked who it was.

“My wife,” Peter explained quickly. “She’s gone. Cancer took our chance to have children and then it took her.”


Desiree also had a girlfriend: Grace, a former semi-pro boxer who now worked with peter on the younger girl’s training. The taller, slightly older woman was Desiree’s dream made real and Desiree was unhinged with love for her. At first, Grace enjoyed the attention Desiree showered her with, asking questions about every part of her history and life. Was the first time with a man or a woman? Why did Grace become a boxer? Had she ever been knocked out in a match? Did Grace like being the “man” in her relationships?

But as much as she cherished Desiree, Grace found the girl’s boundless curiosity tiring.

“Desiree is ready for a real fight,” Grace told Peter. “In fact, she’s overdue, she needs a match.”

Peter disagreed.

“Dez doesn’t have the stamina yet,” he explained. “Right now Dez is all attack and no defense. She’ll get hurt if she fights now!”

Grace persisted, adding that Desiree would remain close to whoever let her have a real match up.

That was the most Grace ever mentioned about her and Peter’s shared intimacy with Desiree, but it was enough. Peter relented, but got two more months to get Desiree ready.

Peter and Grace worked Desiree harder than they did before. Both stopped having sex with their pupil for the duration, no matter how much Desiree complained.

Desiree was eventually matched against Emma. Only an inch taller than her challenger, Emma had ten pounds on Desiree and it was all well toned muscle. Emma was a patient, methodical fighter, who was careful in the attack until her fists exploded on her opponent.

Peter didn’t like it, but he was over ruled by Grace and Desiree.


“Just so you know ahead of time,” Emma told Peter before the match. “I’m putting your string bean girlfriend on her ass. I thought you liked them with bigger tits, Peter?”
Emma blocked every punch Desiree threw in the first round. Impressed with the novice’s strength, Emma decided to wait Desiree out. Emma would punish Desiree’s taunt body, all skin and muscles, and then flatten her at the right moment.

As the fight progressed, Peter got worried. He knew Emma would keep her word and told Desiree between rounds to concentrate on defense; she didn’t have to win this one. Grace looked pleased as the bout moved forward. When Desiree slumped into her chair at the end of each round, Grace encouraged her lover, telling Desiree she was doing fine and to keep up the pressure on Emma.

When the bell sent Desiree out for the seventh round, Peter confronted Grace. “Dez is not doing fine, she’s getting beat up and she’s showing fatigue!”

“Desiree needs this fight,” was Grace’s curt response.

Emma slugged Desiree twice in the midsection, rattling the girl’s body. Desiree heard the “SMACK!” of Emma’s glove hitting her jaw and the gym pitched sideways. The whole universe instantly jolted back as Desiree heard an explosion and saw Emma’s other glove sail past her.

Desiree was confused by Emma’s rapid moves, punches landing all over her. Rage flared in Desiree at being unable to keep up with her adversary. Desiree’s fists flung out, tagging Emma’s face and chest forcefully. Emma found her opening and slammed Desiree’s temple. Desiree stumbled, her senses tumbling out of focus.

Emma’s fists began thrusting piston-like into Desiree’s head, which jerked back and forth with each shot. When Emma remembered to, she tortured Desiree’s belly, little “oofffs” and “uuuhhhss” issuing from Desiree’s drooping lips.

Her eyes barely open, Desiree fell into a defensive crouch, but Emma straightened her up with an upper cut. Desiree felt the world go silent. Her body, wobbling on rubbery legs, felt numb, blunting some of the pain Emma was inflicting.

A headshot swung her lazily around, giving Desiree a glimpse of Peter and Grace. Grace looked at Desiree the way she did when they were alone. Then a left hook yanked them away. Desiree felt her brain shutting down, darkness closing in, her body relaxing joint by joint.

Two more bombs detonated on her face. Desiree began to slide and Emma’s gratified smile told her the bout was over.

Falling through darkness, Desire struck a hard, unyielding surface. Landing on her side, Desiree effortlessly rolled on her back. Eyes shut and mouth hanging open, Desiree was in profound slumber. Not a number of the ref’s count out reached her.

Peter and Grace lifted Desiree to her feet, draping her lifeless arms over their shoulders. Desiree’s head tilted toward Peter as they carried the senseless girl back to her corner, her booted feet dragging behind her.

Seated in her chair, Desiree expelled a long, deep moan. The pain in her face throbbed back to life as the young boxer incrementally regained consciousness. Desiree was slow in recognizing where she was or who the two people knelt in front of her, asking questions were.

Then their voices flooded her skull in a torrent and Desiree clutched Grace in an exhausted, relieved embrace. Completely spent, Desiree smiled at Peter.