Bruja

Helena selected Will after a few tries with other men at the Amazonia Boxing Club. The previous candidates, all of them great fucks, were ordinary, not particularly handsome or physically impressive. Helena had learned that men like those gave her the most sexual pleasure. But they didn't provide the one thing she craved most: an orgasm induced vision.
Will was searching, also. Will wanted a female who would beat him in combat, but that he could overwhelm in bed. In both pursuits, Will favored older women and black and Asian college girls, so his sudden infatuation with Helena baffled him.
Helena, skinny and lose limbed, had a small chest and lips that pouted even when she was happy. Helena had no idea what the vision was she sought, but when it hit, she'd know it.

Helena could have put her victim out with one shot, but she slipped behind Will, who she had just dazed with a clothesline, and raised her arms behind his head.
The softness of Helena's arms snaking around his throat sent furious warmth through Will. He went faint, fought through it and his hands pulled at Helena's arms.
"You feel it, boy!?" Helena whispered in Will's ear, huskily stressing "boy."
Dizziness spread in Will's body. Bending one knee at a time, Helena sat Will on the canvas and pulled him tightly against her chest.
Heavy as lead weights, Will's arms fell on Helena's bare thighs. Helena loosened the sleeper hold slightly.
"Want a short nap, Will? Or do I send you to the place dreams come from?"
Will wanted to fuck Helena, he felt so controlled.
"Dre...emes..."
Helena flexed her right bicep into Will's neck. Will's head tilted against her arm and he was knocked out.
Helena pinned Will's shoulders for a ten count. Reaching in the front of Will's trunks, Helena fingered his hard on. She gave Will a long kiss and murmured "I love you" in his ear.

Will didn't see Helena until the Saturday, when they spent the weekend in his town house. Emma the Ref and Wes carried Will from the ring to the recovery room, which Helena watched with intense gratification.
Out cold for five minutes, Will dreamed of a three way with Helena, his last girlfriend Jasmine and himself. Jasmine wore the same ankh around her neck that she did in real life.
Will struggle to break both women with sex, but only succeeded with Jasmine. For days after recovering from the sleeper, Will's reality would shift to the three way dream. Jasmine would be curled up once again in feline repose against Will's chest, faintly smiling, while Helena lay stretched out on the bed, her narrow eyes watching everything Will did.
Late Sunday morning Helena got dressed standing. Next to Will, who lay on his bed. He still wanted more sex with her, but he was too spent to pull his lover down to the mattress.
Knowing Will wanted conquest even more than pleasure, Helena allowed him nearly complete freedom with her body. Orgasms tore through her, creating a tender affection for his prowess.
"You were great Will! I'm glad I'm in love with you." Helena gave Will a hungry kiss. "But you'll never own me. No man has done that yet."
Will felt like he'd been knifed as he watched Helena walk out, over night bag swaying over her shoulder.

The rematch, boxing this time, happened two weeks later. Helena felt confident in her corner, dressed in tight white shorts and a T-shirt. She was sure Will would do nothing but stare at her legs and that she would punch him out before round five was finished.
To Will's annoyance, Helena absorbed what punishment his gloves delivered. For three rounds Will battered Helena relentlessly, certain she would crumple to the canvas unconscious. But she answered every punch from Will with another. When the pair were in a clinch Helena would torment Will with the details of how much she loved him.
In round four, Will lodged a left to her head. In the few seconds Helena's head lowered to the side, Will's right swung up and hammered her chin.
Helena's body floated off the canvas an inch and her eyes drifted shut. Helena was already seeing shooting stars as she hit the canvas, back first. Sleep washed over the girl boxer like the incoming tide. She slept through the 10 count and then longer, a warm sensation coursing through her body in the blackness.

The bout was Helena's first experience of defeat. She woke with a powerful feeling of release that clung to her the day after the match. When she called Will on the phone she told him in fevered, girlish tones that she had to see him as soon as possible.

Will yanked Helena from the doorway and pulled her firmly into his room, shoving her on the bed. Each one undressed with precision, staring straight into the other's eyes.
"You were out cold on your ass!" Will said. "What did you dream of?'
Helena ignored the question and clasped Will's red erection and pulled it and Will to her. Helena face contorted with pleasure like a soldier just wounded. Helena clasped the back of Will's head and pulled his hair deliberately. Will answered by thrusting harder into Helena, making her shout.
When the orgasm hit Helena, the bedroom spun away and she was consumed by a searing whiteness that burned her eyes.
"I...you...Will..." Helena gasped and her head tilted back a final time as she blacked out.
Will settled Helena's head on some pillows and the girl, utterly asleep and content, dreamed of leaping tigers until the morning.

Women in Love

Mark landed a punishing gut shot Veronica wasn't expecting that doubled her over. Her eyes wide with pain and shock, she never saw Mark's left-right combination slam her face. The grogginess caused by the punches blunted his follow through upper cut, but did not diminish the effects.
Veronica staggered backward to the ropes, her entire body stretched out, chin pointed in the air. Eyes shut and legs going rubbery, Veronica's feet shot from the canvas and she dropped into the ropes.
In the seconds it took for the woman's ass to reach the canvas, her arms went limp and warm darkness covered her.
While Veronica slumbered through Mark's ten count, gloved fists on her bare thighs, Veronica wandered in a dreamland of bright blurry lights and colorful pinwheels. An intense sensation of release flooded her body. This was the first time in five years of boxing that Veronica had been knocked out cold. She enjoyed the experience.

Mark's arms were supporting Veronica when the lights and pinwheels faded.
"Slowly now Veronica!" the young man urged. Why slowly? Veronica asked herself.
Veronica's legs were unsteady and weak and she had to lean on Mark as he walked her to the stool in her corner. Veronica collapsed against the turnbuckle, stars still popping in her vision.
"How you feeling?" Mark asked Veronica, starting to untie her red boxing gloves
"How do I feel?"
A few seconds of fruitless thought followed.
"What happened to me?"
Mark laughed out loud.

Veronica and Mark fucked at Veronica's house. They went until morning. At some point during the night, Veronica couldn't say when, she fell in love with Mark.
Their match had only lasted one round. Mark was a lanky, almost skinny boy in his twenties. Veronica didn't think he'd amount to much as a boxer, so she didn't take his challenge too seriously. Skinny amateur looking to get laid she decided as they faced each other before the match started. Well, if it happens, it happens.
For most of the night Mark was on top, another first for Veronica. The orgasms hit her like cartoon punches and she was seeing stars again in the morning.
When Veronica suggested they keep this up, Mark agreed. He was attracted to older women.

The fling went for two months. Mark would fuck Veronica nearly senseless and then cook her breakfast. Veronica walked around, half dancing, feeling the buoyant joy she had not experienced since she was a teenager. The lovers boxed once more in those weeks. Mark was considerate of his lover this time. The match lasted two rounds. Mark worked Veronica thoroughly in the first and put her to sleep early in the second.

Veronica was in an euphoric mood when Alma approached her.
The two women had a lot in common. They were in their forties, big chested with well developed thighs. They both were boxers.
"Veronica Mitchell?!" Alma asked with a noticeable Spanish accent.
"Yeah..."
Veronica was very uneasy at the question.
"Do you know Mark! Mark Baldwin!?"
"No! I don't know any..."
Alma's fist cracked low on Veronica's jaw, spinning her to the floor.
"I think you do!"
Alma pulled Veronica back up and slugged her in the mid section. "I think you know him VERY well!!"
Veronica "UGGH!!"ed loudly and another punch grounded her. Alma spat the words "puta" and "pera" at her victim, which Veronica barely understood.
Planted on her ass Veronica stared with glassy eyes up at her attacker.
Alma saw Veronica was ready for the message she wanted to give her.
"Listen to me good, puta!" Alma nearly shouted in Veronica's face after standing her up. "Mark is mine! Get your own man!"
Veronica never saw or felt the punch that knocked her spark out. There was yelling and then she was asleep.
Alma's left upper cut threw her against the wall. Veronica slid down with a listlessness Alma found very satisfying.

Satan's Angels - The Finish

"Hey, hey..handsome...!"
Max felt his face being ligthly slapped. Soft female fingers working in unison with a soothing voice brought him back to consciousness.
Aria Evan's face broke into a wide smile when Max's eyes opened completely. "Agent Max, nice to have you back!"
Max knew he was seated, but he could not move his legs or arms. His wrists and ankles were bound by thin plastic strips. In her right hand, Aria held the cup of champagne Max gave her 15 minutes earlier. "Slipped me a mickey in the champagne?"
Aria poured the gold, fizzy liquid on the carpet. "Do you think I'm stupid?" She bounced the cup off Max's face. "Of course you do!"
Aria pulled a chair up to Max, turning it around so she could rest her arms on the back of the chair.
"Roxana and I knew there was something wrong when Cathy was gone for three days," Aria said. "Cathy can go goofy for a guy, but she never misses a staff meeting. Did you drug her Shirley Temple?"
Max was annoyed. "Gassed her with a snoozer, put her right out."
Aria held up Max's cell phone-snoozer. "Mean this?" She pitched the snoozer against the wall and it shattered.
"My next guess? You sponsored Cathy for the rehabilitation program?"
"Yeah."
"So it's love? Cathy finally laid the man of her dreams?" Aria leapt to her feet, taking a small knife from her back pocket. "That's too bad, because we're going to see Roxanna!"
Max felt the plastic strip around his wrist give as he pulled his hands apart slightly. Aria turned the blade in Max's face, laughed happily, and cut the restraints on his ankles.
"Get up!" she ordered.
As he stood, the poorly connected strip on his wrists came loose and his arms were free.
For a moment, Aria turned her back to Max to collect her bag from the bed, all the time Max needed to land a chop on the bad girl's neck.
She groaned and staggered. Max quickly swung her around and slugged Aria low on the jaw.
The room went quiet and a soft darkness pressed down Aria's eyelids. She fought to stay standing, but the urge to sleep was stronger. Max put Aria on the couch and secured her wrists and feet.

Still knocked out cold, Aria was wheeled out of the motel room by two Justice Force agents. Agent Miki examined the disheveled room ruefully. "Looks like you had a good night, anyway!"
Max ignore her sarcasm. "How is Cathy?"
"Doing well, ready to graduate from prohibition in a month. You miss her?"
Max expected news of his attachment to Cathy Hazlitt to get around Justice Force, just not this fast. Well, they are female crime fighters.
"Nothing on Roxanna?"
"Nope," Miki replied. "The trail is dead."

In fact Roxanna had vanished completely. The safe house her organization used was cleaned out and abandoned. Agent Miki suggested Roxanna had fled to a country, likely below Mexico, that had no extradition treaty with America.
So Max was paid for his efforts and told to wait for his next assignment. Max felt a little bored and lonely since Cathy would not be paroled by Justice Force for another month. Hearing that his friend Zack had gone to Vegas with "a job," Max took care of project he'd been meaning to get to.

"What is this custom of giving women alcohol to drink while dining?" asked Scarlet Vixen as they sat in Max's favorite Italian restaurant, Zapatelli's. Vixen, recruited from the Amazon Sisterhood to Justice Force, had recovered from the beating Aria had given her a few weeks earlier. Max had invited her to dinner on the pretext of discussing a few ideas he had about getting Zack out of his life of crime.
Vixen jumped at the idea.
"You must know that alcohol impairs female judgement!" she admonished sternly. Max wondered what streak of insanity made him think he could nail Scarlet Vixen.
"Does it? Really?" Max responded. "Let me ask you, Athena: Why do you find Zack so attractive despite the obvious fact he's a thief and you're a crime fighter?"
Vixen's face twisted with thought. "He's really sexy, when I see him, i melt inside, he's like..manly!"
"Now, as far as you're concerned, do I possess those attractive qualities to same degree as Zack?"
Vixen concentrated again and frowned slightly. "I'm afraid not as much..."
"Exactly!" Max caught their waiter's attention. "Another Manhattan for the lady...thanks!"

Max returned, alone, to his apartment. He was disturbed more by the fact he actually thought he could get Vixen drunk and in bed, than that the attempt failed.
He flicked on his living room light and felt something hard strike his head. Then the living room light went out.

The black fog that filled Max's eyes focused into Roxanna, who pointed a gun in his face.
"Hello Agent Max!" Roxanna sneered. "Here I was thinking you were just a harmless fling...you seemed like a harmless non entity I could fuck and then beat up!"
"Hi Roxanna...ohhhh...we've been looking for you..."
"I bet! I knew my organization had been compromised by Justice Force when Cathy disappeared." Roxanna chambered a bullet in her pistol. "So I sent Aria after you and Scarlet Vixen to buy me time to cover my tracks. Too bad, Aria was a very effective member of our team, but she had to be sacrificed."
Roxanna pressed the pistol barrel on Max's forehead. "Too bad you and the reformed Miss Cathy won't get a happy ending!"
Roxanna pulled back the hammer on the automatic.
"But I'll be enjoying mine in Argentina! Buenos noches, Max!"
WHAP!!
A blow jerked Roxanna's head sideways. The pistol slipped from her grip and fell harmlessly to the floor. The bad girl glanced down at the gun, smiled and hit the floor herself.
Where Roxana stood was Scarlet Vixen, a sap in her hand.
"You were trying to seduce me, weren't you, Max!"
"Scarlet! Glad you could make it!" Max rose warily to his feet. "Thanks for taking out Roxy here! Help me move her."
As they carried the unconscious Roxanna to the couch, Scarlet Vixen continued to upbraid Max on his intentions earlier in the evening.

Kitsune

Kitsune's ears curved weirdly beneath her shinny black hair. Jon saw her one spring afternoon at the Amazonia Boxing Club as she was hitting the heavy bag. Kitsune moved around the bag as if it were prey she couldn't let escape. Jon could only admire her firm ass and legs in the black speedos until she shifted position and faced him.
Jon was shaken by Kitsune's round, narrow face and close set brown eyes that sat high in her cheek bones, eyes that focused on the heavy bag and on everything around Kitsune at the same time. When the girl looked at Jon, the ferocity on the punching bag increased.
Speaking to Kitsune a few days later, Jon thought her voice was clear and intelligent, but the girl spoke rapidly and slipped away from Jon if he appeared to move to close to her.
Two weeks later Jon and Kitsune fucked in Jon's apartment. Jon marveled happily at how fast Kitsune moved - they had coffee after her sparring session and then went straight to Jon's bedroom.
Jon operated on the sometimes accurate premise that he ruled his own bedroom. But this time, Kitsune dominated him from the instant they hit the bed. Kitsune fucked as fast as she moved in the ring. After their last orgasm, Jon tried to find out what part of Asia Kitsune came from since her accent wasn't American.
"I'm from all over," said Kitsune dreamily. "Japan, China, Korea..."
Running his fingers gently through his lover's hair as she lay on top of him, her chin on his chest, Jon ignored that her reply wasn't an answer.
"We're going to fight tomorrow night," she declared. "And I'm going to fuck you up!"
Her words sounded like a promise to Jon.

At first Jon thought Kitsune would be an easy match. She was light and fast on her feet and Jon knew not to be complacent in the boxing ring against a small woman, but knew he had a weight and height advantage. This little one can run and dodge all she likes, he thought. One good punch with everything behind it and this fight is over.
Kitsune banged her black boxing gloves against Jon's and began to prowl around him.
"Have you ever been knocked out, Kitsune? I can do it, you know?"
Kitsune's small nose twitched as she answered, "I will knock you out, lover!"
They traded shots, the tempo increasing with each round. Jon hammered a right hook to the side of Kitsune's head, landing her on the canvas.
for a few moments, the dazed girl lay on her back, blinking her eyes. When Kitsune sat up, glove pressed to her right eye, Jon stopped the count.
"Want to go on?" asked Jon, reaching down to Kitsune. She stared intently up at him as she permitted him to pull her to her feet.
Agsin they circled each other, Kitsune making short jumps at Jon, who moved backward, baffled by the girl's attack. One punch caught his jaw and Jon stumbled to the ropes. As he corrected himself, Kitsune delivered a left-right combination to Jon's head.
The blows spun Jon's vision and he never saw and only barely felt the left upper cut cracking on his jaw. Jon went light headed and in an instant he was unconscious.

Flat on his back, Jon glimpsed the hind legs and white tipped tail of a red fox disappear out the doors of the gym as lights surged brightly and bleed into darkness.

Jon went to the refurbished mammal exhibit at the city zoo with his sister and niece. The excited 12 year old tugged her indulgent uncle by the hand, making sure they visited the Big Cats first (two tigers, two pumas and a pride of lions) and then the canids. The tour came to an abrupt halt at the red fox enclosure, where's Jon's niece searcher for the concealed occupant.
"Newly arrived Red Fox (Volpus volpus) vixen, one year old" Jon read from the plaque mounted on the rail around the exhibit.
"Where? I don't see her?" his niece said. Hearing human voices, the vixen bounded from her lair and darted across the grounds of the enclosure. She vanished behind a large rock.
"There she is!" The young girl pointed to a pair of sharp ears slowly rising behind the crest of a stone. The animal's narrowed eyes fixed on Jon. The vixen had a bruise on the side of her face.
Jon stared back at the fox until she began to growl and yip. Jon's niece laughed out loud.
"She's mad at you, Uncle Jon!"

Kitsune vanished for awhile from the Amazonia after the bout with Jon, who wanted a rematch. The day after his zoo trip, he got a call from her. Kitsune wanted to know if Jon wanted another fight.
"I promise not to knock you out so fast this time," she added. As he agreed, Jon felt lust and anger burst inside.

"You still have that shiner!" Jon said between punches that flew between the couple.
"Slow to heal!" Kitsune replied with repressed anger.
Jon put a few punches on the bruise, hoping to throw Kitsune off balance. It worked.
Kitsune staggered to the right two paces, leaving her open long enough for Jon to hammer her mid section. Kitsune violently crouched over and Jon followed up with a right to her chin. A loud "SMACK!" echoed from a second blow to her jaw.
Edging the confused girl to the ropes, Jon fired rapid punches all around Kitsune's small body. He littered headshots between body blows. Kitsune desperately wanted to fight her way out of the corner, but Jon kept her pinned.
Kitsune collapsed to the canvas from a harsh shot to her jaw. Seated and wobbly, the girl stared blankly in a daze.
She rattled her lovely head back and forth, blinking her eyes furiously. Jon moved away as Kitsune pushed herself to stand.
"We over?" asked Jon, raising his fists.
"Never!" Kitsune barked, still in pain.
"Good!"
Jon closed in as soon as Kitsune put up her gloves defensively.
Punches glided between her arms, detonating on her skull. The ring tilted, almost tipping up side down. Seeing Kitsune's eyes were glassy and unmoving, Jon slowed up his assault, rationing his body blows, waiting for Kitsune to fall.
Now out on her feet Kitsune made clumsy, tired swings at Jon, who pushed the spent fighter into a turnbuckle. The only audible sounds were the leather of Jon's gloves hiting Kitsune and her faint moans.
Jon tilted Kitsune's chin upright and closed the girl's mouth.
WHAP!!!
Kitsune's eyes fluttered twice and closed shut. Her legs and then her entire body turned to rubber and the girl boxer struck the canvas.

Deep in a profound knockout, Kitsune's body shivered. Jon watched in astonishment as the girl transformed into a red fox, which lay prone at Jon's feet. Removing his gloves, he checked the creature's pulse which was steady. He lifted the vixen in his hands and carried her to the recovery room.
The vixen lay on the bed for a minute before stirring and yipping. As the vixen woke, she transformed back to Kitsune. Sitting up, the girl boxer smiled at the baffled human. A moment passed and he smiled in return.