The Skinny Girl

Concern was the word Will would have used to describe his feelings about the skinny girl. "Worry" and "anxious" were too strong. The match would end with Nadia out cold on the canvas. But past experience had taught Will not to be careless in the ring with skinny girls, who were faster and stronger than their bodies showed. Will could also not stop looking at Nadia's piercing eyes that seemed to shift between light blue and gray.
They had agreed to fight to a knockout at Nadia's request. That worked for Will, he had four inches on the girl.
Will watched Nadia's thin but well developed body as she probed , waiting for Will's reaction to her verbal taunting and an offer of a hand job.
There was little. Will blocked a few punches, absorbed a few others, but did not hit her back. Instead he looked over her body, studying how she held her arms in defense. A hand job would be nice, he considered, watching Nadia's dove-like breasts sway beneath her top. Will liked women to have a fuller chest, but Nadia's were cute and feminine.
Will faked a left to Nadia's head. Her fist jumped higher instantly. Will's fist hit her stomach with lighting and for a moment he regretted the pain that strained Nadia's face.
WHAP!
The left upper cut finished Nadia, staggering the girl as the lights in her brain rattled and flickered.
"Uhhhh....ohhhhh..." Nadia warbled, starting to stumble. An ecstatic lassitude drank Nadia and the canvas raced up to catch her plummeting body.
Will started the count, but quickly stopped. Admiring Nadia's compact ass, Will gave it a loving slap and rolled the girl on her back.
"Just a little rag doll, sweetie?" Will asked, taking off his gloves. He checked her pulse and gently caressed Nadia's cheeks. "You sleeping, aren't you?"
Will gave her a few slaps on the face. Nadia's eyes slowly fluttered open.
"There you go..." Will stood and collected his gear. With aching lethargy, Nadia's head cleared and she sat up.
"Asshole!" she shouted at Will like a snake spewing venom. "I'll get you!"
"Whenever you are ready, honey!"
Before she was completely on her feet, Will was gone from the ring.

Two afternoons later, Will was stowing his gear in the trunk of his car in the gym parking lot. As he brought down the lid, a small hand firmly clutched his shoulder and spun him ninety degrees.
He saw Nadia and was transfixed by her luminous blue eyes and then her fist.
WHAM!
Will slumped loudly against the trunk. As he blacked out, he slipped sideways, landing on the pavement.
"Jerk!" declared Nadia.

A week later concern was replaced by determination in Will's mind. When he woke on the black top where Nadia had left him, he was sorry he took the crazy female's challenge in the first place.
As days went by, he became set on flattening Nadia again, because the girl was not rational. A koed opponent should know she's been knocked out.
"Face still throbbing?" Nadia asked when they were facing each other. "I wouldn't miss seeing your face!"
There was a red bruise where Nadia's punch had impacted. Will knew she'd strike there again, to inflict a painful reminder of their last encounter.
When the bell rang, Will delivered an upper cut to Nadia's chin.
Nadia halted in her tracks, eyes crossed. Will was about to follow up with a right hook, but Nadia's knees buckled one at a time. The skinny girl spun as she hurtled to the canvas, eyes closing, thinking of a playground from her childhood.
Will counted out the unconscious girl boxer and gathered her in his arms. Gently he placed her in the stool that sat in her corner and eased her against the turnbuckle.

Luisa the Rough

Luisa knew Jon was a "Gentle" by the way he looked over her breasts: with a longing that combined sexual arousal and submission. She had dealt with men like Jon before and knew what he was after.
Like all Gentles, Jon was attracted to women who would beat him unconscious in a fight. Luisa was a Rough, the aggressive half of Jon's sexual equation. Her greatest sexual gratification came from knocking Gentles like Jon out cold.
They talked for a long time when they met at a pool party. Luisa wore a skimpy white bikini that contrasted vividly with her dark brown skin. She twisted her hips in his direction as she laughed at his jokes, making sure Jon noticed her eyes playing over the front of his bathing suit.
"Ever box, Jon?" Luisa asked him, when they changed the topic of conversation from music to working out. Already she was imagining Jon in his boxing trunks, sprawled out on his back, slumbering at her feet.
"Yeah, I train at Peter's gym."
Peter was Jon's friend and Luisa's trainer and the host of the party. He had introduced the couple a few minutes earlier.
Jon was wondering where in the big house he could screw Luisa. Jon offered her a second glass of wine.
"No thank you," Luisa said, easing the glass from Jon's hand. "Wine makes me act stupid."
She took a long, slow swallow and smiled at Jon. "Ever fight a girl?"
"Yes, a few.."
"How did it go?" she asked after her second swallow.
"Great!" Jon's voice was so loud it made them both laugh. "I got clobb...I did okay. I'm always hesitant to hit a girl at the start of each fight."
"I bet you do."

Jon arrived at Luisa's house late on a Saturday, carrying only a back pack loaded with his boxing gear and a change of cloths, as Luisa instructed him.
Luisa lead him by the arm down a long hallway to the entrance of her basement gym. Jon's attention shifted from Luisa, who wore black speedos and a dark grey T-shirt adorned with images of Batgirl, Wonder Woman and Supergirl, to the framed pictures of male fighters, prone on the boxing ring canvas. In the lower corner of almost all the portraits was a red Valentine sticker.
"Who are they?"
"Men I've boxed!"
"They're all on their backs." noted Jon.
"I knock every guy out."
Jon felt a rush. "Those heart stickers?"
Luisa tugged him down the steps. "They performed very well."

Luisa was already in her corner when Jon entered the ring from the changing room.
"Tie up my gloves Jon!"
Luisa pulled off her T-shirt as Jon approached, revealing her smooth brown shoulder and arms. As Jon slowly laced her boxing gloves, he looked down Luisa's athletic top, adoring the roll of Luisa's breasts as they surged out at him.
"Good job, Jon!" She punched him in the shoulder. "Let's go!"
Luisa liked that Jon gave her a good fight, unlike many Gentles who exposed their head, egar for her to dispatch them to dreamland.
Jon clearly liked the physical contact fighting a woman entailed. A few times he pinned Luisa against the ropes or on the turnbuckle and worked her body. The punches didn't hurt her much and she always fought herself free of his assault.
As they boxed, Luisa kept calling "a good, sexy little Gentle"; that she knocked guys like him out before breakfast. By the the third round, she could see Jon was waring out; some of his punches missed and he kept pulling her into clinches after a barrage of devastating punches.
"You ready, Jon?" Luisa taunted, slugging her opponents twice, with brutal precision in the midsection, followed by a devastating right hook. Jon staggered a few paces, arms barely raised. Jon searched with groggy desperation for the female voice he'd heard before lighting struck him.
"You're ready...."
Luisa pasted a left on Jon's chin. Jon saw a second flash of painful white light and stood flat footed in front of Luisa, blabbering incoherently.
"Three punches and its all over, honey stick!" Luisa kissed the dazed male and tilted his head straight.
"The first punch makes you stupid!" she purred at the vulnerable gentle.
WHAP!!!
The leather of her glove smacked Jon's right jaw. Luisa was now a goddess to Jon: a virgin-warrior-seductress.
"The second punch makes you sleepy!"
POW!!
Darkness seeped into Jon's brain and he sagged onto the ropes, knees bent and eyes just slits of white.
Laughing joyously, Luisa pulled Jon back on his feet.
"The last punch....Jon sweetie...knocks you out!"
BAM!!
The savage upper cut popped Jon's head back, putting him instantly to sleep. He stood swaying for a few seconds as river seemed to gush through his body. Jon thudded to the canvas, unmoving, in a deep slumber.

Jon came to naked on Luisa's bed. Luisa was wearing nothing but red lace panties.
"Did your dreams come true, Gentle?" she whispered, brushing the hair from his face.
"Yeee..sss..." Jon felt weary and satisfied from the beating Luisa had administered. Looking at her full tits, with their purple aureoles, sexual love stirred in him again.
They spent the afternoon making love. Jon felt consumed by Luisa's body and the pleasure he received from it. Kissing her thighs and arms, giving her cunnilingus, penetrating her multiple times, Jon exhausted himself with adoration for Luisa.
The sun had almost set when Jon woke a second time. Luisa was brushing her hair in front of her mirror, having added a red bra to her panties.
She walked over to Jon, who stood and embraced her in long kiss.
"I always get the best sex from men I've obliterated in the ring," Luisa remarked.
"Luisa, there's something I want to do before I go."
"Sure, Gentle, what is it?" Luisa was happy not to have to chase Jon out. She wanted to hit the clubs alone tonight.
"Just this."
WHAP!!!
Jon's right hook jerked Luisa around 180 degrees. Her eyes wide with shock, quickly shut and Luisa's body fell against Jon's bare chest, her cheek on his shoulder.
He grabbed her waist and tilted the girl backward slightly. Her head went back, revealing a jaw slack in utter unconsciousness.
Jon sat Luisa on the bed, where she let out a wayward moan and dropped on her back. Jon lifted her feet onto the sheets and pulled the inert girl boxer onto the pillow. Luisa was serenely asleep.
After dressing, Jon placed a thorn less rose he'd retrieved from his back pack by Luisa's head. He quickly scribbled his number on a slip of paper and put it under the rose. Kissing his lover, Jon closed the bedroom door quietly as he left.

An Older Woman

Peyton watched her friend Desiree being carried from the boxing ring. The girl boxer was limp and unconscious in the supportive arms of her trainer-boyfriend Peter and Emma the Ref. In the fourth round, Desiree took two gut shots and then a hay maker to her right temple and the lights were out.
Peyton witnessed the final round and again decided Desiree was out of her mind. Desiree chose opponents by how sexually attractive she found them. Infrequently, she would find a new female lover, but most of the time she wound up stretched out on the canvas. The only sensible choice Dez ever made in her life, Peyton thought, was Peter, who as easing the girl on to a gurney.
"She's in a deep slumber!" Peter said, pulling back Desiree's eye lids, revealing solid whites. "Get the salt!" Peter ordered and began massaging Desiree's neck. A contented smile broke on the koed girl's face, subconsciously recognizing the caress of her lover's finger.
Retrieving the smelling salts, Peyton glanced at Veronica Mitchell who she would be fighting in a few minutes. Veronica seemed proud that she had just punched out a younger girl and stared back at Peyton as if she had the same plans for her.
Peyton handed the capsule of salts to Peter, who cracked the small tube beneath Desiree's pert nose.
"Dez, come on, wake up!" Peter planted gentle slaps on his girl's cheeks. Desiree groaned into consciousness.
"You okay, Dez?" Peyton asked. Slowly the prone girl's eyes opened into consciousness.
"Yeah...." Desiree murmured weakly, partially sitting up. "Did I lose Peter?"
"Badly. Lay back down." As Peter and Emma untied Desiree's gloves, Peyton looked over her friend's bare thighs. Peyton felt she understood what Peter saw in Desiree: A lunatic sexual energy that drew men and women alike to her. Desiree actually believed she could seduce the older woman in a boxing match and got knocked out cold for her assumption.
"Your turn, sweetheart!" Veronica declared to Peyton, her gold colored boxing gloves clasping the ropes. Peter and Emma had rolled Desiree to the recovery room. "Its just us girls now."
Peyton climbed between the ropes and pulled on her pale pink boxing gloves, the pair that had been so lucky for her in previous fights. Veronica flashed an approving smirk. "You're better looking than that scrawny brat girl-friend of yours."
"That so?" Their gloves smacked loudly. "You like taller girls, Veronica?"
"I like knocking them out on their cute little asses!"
Veronica moved toward her adversary languidly, gold gloves at chest level. Peyton watched Veronica's violet eyes and her lips purse seductively and...
BAM!!
Leather smacked the side of Peyton's face. The young woman staggered and then swayed in place, her face blank and her vision nebulous. Peyton was a girl again, playing on the school ground. Then Veronica was giggling loudly at her.
"Come on, bitch!" Peyton raised her gloves.
"Sure, Punching Bag Peyton!"
Veronica threw more punches at the side of Peyton's face. Peyton blocked most, but caught a nasty sting on the lower jaw. Peyton stumbled again, shocked by the older woman's strength.
In the second round, Veronica moved in circles around Peyton, fainting back from the pink fists, forcing Peyton to keep after her.
Patiently, Veronica let the young girl take three swings, most not connecting, before reciprocating with punches that grew harder and harder as Peyton's became slower.The young challenger found concentrating harder as the rounds followed. Veronica slipped around the ring and then shifted back at Peyton, fists hammering past her defenses. Veronica would press against Peyton when the pair were brawling on the ropes or in a corner.
"They're 36 D, honey!" Veronica whispered when she saw Peyton peeking at her massive tits.
The gold gloves flashed abruptly in Peyton's face. Veronica was a million miles away and the entire ring floated upward to the ceiling with a syrupy slowness.
Peyton saw Veronica's thighs, shapely and full, and wanted to kiss them.
Peyton was out cold on the canvas, flat on her belly, arms at her side, wrists up, a blissful smile on her face.

Peyton woke in a listless fashion, her head cradled in Veronica's lap. Until her vision focused, Peyton wasn't sure she hadn't had sex with Veronica.
"Hey sleepy, how do you feel?" Veronica's voice was flirtatious and oddly maternal. "You get knocked out?"
"Ohhhh....yeaaahh..." Peyton sighed. Veronica helped her sit up, still using her body to support the young girl. With the help of a neck rub, Peyton's head gradually cleared.
"How long..."
"Were you out? Five minutes. I took some digital pics of you sprawled on the canvas. I'll show them to you later."
"Later? Why later?"
"When you come around again."
"Again...uch...hey!...."
Veronica's arms snaked effortlessly around Peyton's throat and pressed below her ear.
"Hey! The fuck....!?" Peyton's weakened arms barely scraped at Veronica's clinching biceps.
"You look so pretty asleep, Peyton. I just can't help myself. Go to sleep!"
Heavy lids drooping downward, Peyton gave up struggling. The drifting sensation induced by the sleeper hold was a sweet feeling. The young woman's eyes fluttered twice and her head tilted against the bend of Veronica's elbow. There was only warm sleep.

Peyton regained consciousness on a large, comfortable bed. Instead of boxing gear, she wore nothing but pink panties.
"Where am I?" she whispered to Veronica, who wore a golden silk negligee.
"My place. I drove you home while you rested up from the sleeper."
Peyton raised her right hand and removed the thin strap from Veronica's shoulder. Part of the negligee fell away from the woman's chest.
"You knocked me out..."
"I clobbered you, Peyton."
The pair kissed and Veronica removed the other strap from her shoulder.

Two Encounters

Tom knew Sonia was a member of the Amazon Sisterhood. The Sisterhood's rules were clear: an Amazon could only be mated to a man who defeated her in battle. Tom wasn't thinking that long term, but he was sure of what he wanted from Sonia in the short term: the female fighter on her back.
Tom was a pretty good boxer who fought only mixed fights. Most of his opponents finished the fight asleep. But Sonia was a different matter. She was bigger and certainly stronger than all the guys at the club, the results of her people's centuries long effort to build a race of powerful female warriors. To go against Sonia without concealed advantages would surely land Tom in a hospital bed.
It occured to Tom that he could cheat with loaded gloves. He owned a pair; some of the horse hair padding had been removedfrom the right glove and replaced with sand. The gloves were rarely used since Tom was strong enough to floor most of his challengers.
The bout was private at Tom's request, which was fine with the gold haired Sonia who told the other women in the club she'd personally carry the unconscious Tom out of the ring to the recovery room.
Sonia had left Amazon Island for the Cities of Men with the intention of finding a mate. Tom reminded her of why her ancestors killed their male lovers after they got pregnant. He was tall, handsomely built and Sonia recognized how much he enjoyed defeating women in the ring. The Amazons had long ago stopped killing mates and the their population had grown. But that would not restrain Sonia from beating Tom senseless.

They spoke to each other very little. Sonia read lust in Tom's eyes and mouth, but his desire held nothing erotic. Sonia kept mobile, forcing Tom to pursue her. Often she'd double back, slamming Tom's head and body with hits. He'd grunt louder with every punch and kept after the Amazon.
Tom insulted Sonia with every name he could conjure. From the age of 11, when her boxing training began, Sonia was taught to treat male taunting as unworthy of response. But she despised the word "slut" to the core of her soul and when Tom spat it at Sonia, coupled with the word "blond," she swung fiercely at his head.
Tom slipped down and then pounded his right, the loaded glove, flush on Sonia's jaw.
The explosion inside her skull seemed to take hours. Sonia went backward, her body going stiff against the ropes. Her dreamy eyes were as wide as saucers. Sonia ordered her body to move, but it collapsed inward, buckling at the knees and hips. Sonia flung her arms out into the liquid darkness that consumed her, hoping to grab the ropes, but she instantly fell asleep.
"Sweet dreams, Amazon!" Tom growled, pulling off his gloves and giving the unconscious girl an wolf-like smile. "Never saw it coming your way!"

The next night Sonia and Tom spent in her bedroom. The Amazon gave herself to her conqueror by the rules of the Amazons. Tom was more of a gentleman than Sonia expected, but she watched him constantly for unexpected aggression.
"You liked it, some of it anyway. Right?" Tom announced in his relaxed tone, pulling on his cloths.
"I had a few orgasms."
Sonia glanced at Tom from where she lay on her bed. Tom let out a short, guttural laugh. "That's good!" he added and vanished from the apartment.
In a small notebook on her bedstead, Sonia had written the names of four men she'd met in the last year. Resting her head on the pillow, Sonia recalled why she moved to the Cities of Men. Those men had proven themselves worthy in both the boxing ring and the bed, but something held Sonia from choosing one and returning to Amazon Island to start the family she more and more desired. Getting knocked out by a male and then laying with him enraged and depressed Sonia and she looked those names over again.

A week later Sonia challenged Tom to a KO wrestling match.
"The bout's not over till one of us is out cold?" Tom asked, remembering how turned on he got by the unconscious and vulnerable Sonia. "Sounds great!"
Sonia shook her head in agreement and they both climbed in the ring.
Sonia wasted little time with Tom. Grabbing his arm, she spun him into the ropes and clotheslining him as he fumbled forward. Dazed, Tom land flat on his back on the canvas.
"Get up!!" Sonia shouted and hauled the befuddled Tom to his feet and slugged him in the stomach. Doubled over in pain, Tom didn't recognize Sonia's arms locking around his neck. Not until the solid biceps clinched his throat, did Tom yell in surprise.
"Hey bitch what is this!" Tom sputtered.
"Me knocking you out, Tom." Sonia replied calmly.
Tom pulled at Sonia's arms with effect at all. Sleepiness moved over him rapidly, making his arms heavy and legs loose and limp. He snarled a few insults at Sonia and she pulled her arms closer together.
One of Tom's arms fell on Sonia's thigh. His face was blank, eyes expressionless and glassy. A fleck of drool seeps over his drooping lips.
"Time for sleep Tom," Sonia whispered in his ear. Horiness flickered in Tom's brain and he was able to give passing thought to the lovely softness of Sonia's bare breasts before his eyes began to close.
She's...winning...big tited....bitch, floated in Tom's draining consciousness. A brief visual of Sonia's bare thighs and pussy flashed in Tom's head. He smiled and blacked out.
Sonia dropped him on the floor and didn't bother with a pin or a count. She wanted to sock Tom while he was down and leave a bruise he'd remember for the rest of his life. But she thought of the names in her notebook and exited the ring for home.