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.