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.

Cynthia in Love

Being hesitant about getting in the ring, Cynthia was startled by being punched in the face by Desiree, a woman an inch shorter than herself. The punches became so rough and repetitive, that Cynthia's body stopped obeying orders to keep her gloved hands raised. One shot was so harsh that Cynthia went to sleep.

She woke confused in the recovery room, attended by Marcus, her boyfriend, and Emma the Ref.
"Is...it...over..?" Cynthia asked, her head swimming.
"Yep, that's it." Marcus kissed her lovingly on the forehead. "You got knocked out. How do you feel?"
"Weird..." She wasn't sure of the right word. "Did I hurt Desiree any?"
"A little, a few bruises." Emma said. "Good for your first fight."
I got trounced! Cynthia admitted to herself.
Emma shinned a small flash light in the recovering fighters eyes. "There's no concussion."
Despite her aching body, Cynthia wanted sex when they got home. When Marcus insisted she let her bruises heal, Cynthia shoved him into their bedroom.

Holding Cynthia in his arms at sunrise, Marcus wondered why Cynthia was so off the scale horny. She was dreaming of the woman who put her on the canvas. The erotic vision of Desiree, fists raised, promising a knock out, haunted Cynthia for days.
At dinner, Cynthia was honest with her boy friend.
"Marcus, I need to tell you something."
"What's that?" Marcus replied, looking up from his plate of pasta primavera. His glance lingered on Cynthia's still glowing black eye.
"I want to sleep with women!"
"Wha...?"
"I feel the need for sexual...contact with women.."
Setting down his fork, Marcus sat back in his chair. Okay, Marcus, he told himself, lets rise to the occasion. He remembered the words of his older brother when Marcus first got serious with a girl, "All women are bi. It's just a fact of nature, you'll see."
"When did this start?"
"I still love you, Marcus, you need to know that!"
Marcus grinned philosophically.
"Good. Have you made a friend yet?'
"No, but there is..."
"Who?"
"Desiree at the Amazonia."
"Of course! The lesbian Casanova!"
"I haven't been able to get her out of my mind since the match!"
"Where she beat you up!"
"And it felt great!" blurted Cynthia. There was an excited glow in her eyes.

Marcus had seen the entire match from Cynthia's corner. While Emma the Ref and Kaylee attended the unconscious fighter, Marcus watched Desiree in her red shorts and top, strutting across the ring, fists in the air. Those fucking thighs!, he thought, pulling an iPhone from his jeans pocket. As he took pictures of the victor, he noticed Cynthia, out like a light, legs spread in a "V," one glove lifeless on her stomach, the other limp on the canvas.
As the women spectators crammed around the ring, cheering Desiree's victory, Marcus was enthralled by Cynthia's vulnerability.
Marcus pretended to argue with Cynthia about her newly discovered desire, but then stopped.

A few days later, Cynthia worked up the courage to congratulate Desiree on winning their match, conceding that she was the better boxer.
Desiree warmly accepted the praise while they both sat in a booth at Concha's, Desiree's favorite bar.
Desiree could see Cynthia's eyes were fixed on her face. "It's pretty strange for you, isn't it?"
"Yeah. First time I box and I get knocked out."
"It's likely to happen." Desiree reached her hand to Cynthia's shiner, gently caressing it with her thumb. Cynthia barely flinched. "I got you good with that one! Do you think you'll try again?"
"Boxing?" Cynthia asked, slowly.
Desiree's fingers went down the other girl's cheeks.
"Yes."
"Sure..." The sensation of Desiree's touch thrilled Cynthia, reliving her first time with Marcus. The pair kissed for a minute. Desiree threw some dollars on the table as they left.

Marcus said nothing about all the time his girlfriend spent with Desiree. At first, Cynthia didn't notice his silence, so engulfed as she was by her new passion. Weeks later, at the dinner table, she looked at Marcus, trying to read his thoughts.
"I'm sorry I have been out so much with Desiree..."
Marcus glanced up, smiling. "How has it been going?"
Relief went through Cynthia like a tidal wave. "I think I'm in love!"
"Is Desiree?"
"Well..." Cynthia came up short for an answer, causing Marcus to laugh. Desiree, in all this time, had expressed none of her feelings.
"Look, I understand this is all new and you're exploring. Neither of us knows how this is going to end. But I'll always be here, no matter what. Okay?"
Cynthia nodded, feeling secure.

Cynthia didn't start crying until she saw Marcus, who was shocked at the tears streaming down her face.
Desiree, he thought. Like clockwork.
As he held her, Cynthia explained that Desiree, who she loved so much, had ended their relationship.
"She is going back to Kaylee, that stupid blond," Cynthia said, briefly restraining the tears. Marcus nodded. Kaylee often hooked up with Desiree when Kaylee was between guys.
"I need to hurt her!" Cynthia spat, angrily.
"Of course you do."

There was a large turnout for what was a semi-regular event at the Amazonia Boxing Club - a broken hearted lover getting even with Desiree.
It was clear Cynthia was fighting to hurt Desiree, not to win the match. Marcus watched the battle intently, shouting advice along with Cathy, Cynthia's friend. Cynthia didn't hear either of them, but punched Desiree's face, hoping to blacken her eye as had been done to her.
Desire expected all this, Cynthia was not her first fling. Weaving and dancing, Desiree presented herself as a target to her former lover and then darted away from most of the punches. She assumed Cynthia would get tired before she did.
That happened, but it took a few rounds longer than expected. By the fourth, both fighters were hammering each other, Desiree with more precision and Cynthia with more force. Desiree noticed her stamina was ebbing. She could not let Cynthia get the upper hand, she had already clocked Desiree hard a few times. From sheer determination, the new comer might knock Desiree out.

Disregarding the fatigue in her legs, Desiree pressed into Cynthia, opening up on her body. The taller girl crouched just enough to expose her head, which Desiree attacked violently. A double upper cut plowed into Cynthia's chin, spinning reality. Desiree launched at her belly and uncorked a third upper cut that knocked her opponent out on her feet.
Desiree staggered from the deeper exhaustion caused by her offensive. Cynthia stood flat footed, her arms dangling at her waist. Eyes open to cracks, Cynthia smiled because the pain was gone.
"Finish you off!" Desire shouted and tagged her prey with a left hook.
Cynthia went out instantly, flopping on her back, arms out.
Marcus had recorded everything.