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.

Melanie Plays Rough

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

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

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

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

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

 

Cruel to Be Kind

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Picture by HitTheMats

                                            

The Love Match

 

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

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

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

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

"Do you have a warrant, Atomic Girl?"

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

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

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

"Why?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Oh silly Max!!"

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

BAM!!

 

 

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

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

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

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

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

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

"My head hurts...."

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

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

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

"Max, honey, this is so sweet!"

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

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

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

"Do you love me?"

"Of course!"

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

"Are you serious?"

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

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

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

"And a wanted counterfeiter!"

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

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

"That's strong bubbly..."

"Perrier-Jouët 2009." Max stated.

"I love you Max Monroe!"

"Really?"

"Ree...leee..."

Atomic Girl went light headed and her vision was blurry.

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

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

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


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

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

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

 

A Maschoist's Love Story

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

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

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

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

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

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

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