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Grudge Match (ff,fighting)
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Subject: Grudge Match (f/f, fight, humil)
Date: Sun, 23 Jul 1995 14:22:28 UTC
The following story contains violence. If this offends you, or if
you're under 18, don't read this. Comments welcome.
For as long as I could remember, I had been fascinated by strong,
dominant women. I myself am a bit on the small, scrawny side, and
always longed to be taken in hand by a no-nonesense woman who could
keep me in my submissive place. I had never actually met this kind of
woman until Tamara came into my life.
Tamara exuded control. She was a very attractive woman of thirty-five,
a full figure full-figured but not fat, just a really well filled out,
mature, strong-minded woman. She was of medium height with dark hair,
full lips and penetrating blue eyes. She liked to have things her own
way, owned her own business and expected her men to obey orders and do
what they were told. She worked out regularly and was strong and fit,
but the first time I saw her all I could see were her dark, dangerous,
serious eyes.
I learned a lot about Tamara the very first night we spent together. I
learned that she loved boxing, fancy lingeie, and humiliating men and
combined her interests in creative ways. That first night together,
Tamara forced me to wear a pair of her panties and face her in a boxing
match with real boxing gloves! She had enchanted me with her masterful
ways so thoroughly that I agreed although I knew very well I was no
boxer and being dressed in women's undies wouldn't improve my
abilities. Sure enough, she whipped me soundly. It was quite an
experience, humiliating but erotic at the same time. For some reason I
kept coming back for more and she was quite willing to administer
punishment as long as I could take it. We decided we were right for
each other that night.
I found out over time that Tamara also loved facing other women in the
little private boxing ring in her basement. Shortly after we met, a
woman who represented a company that did business with Tamara's company
was rude and insulting in the office. Tamara asked if she'd like to
settle the matter in private and the woman agreed. The woman, named
Nancy, came to Tamara's house and they went down to the basement,
stripped to their panties and bras and got into the ring.
Nancy was blond, taller than Tamara, about thirty and looked quite
strong, but didn't know much about fighting and Tamara destroyed her.
It was pretty one-sided, but quite a thrill to watch. Tamara toyed
with the bigger woman, keeping the left jab in her face all the time,
letting her swing a lot, but ducking and keeping out of the way of
those long arms. When the blond tired, Tamara moved in and let her
have it, really worked her over good, reducing her to a bruised,
sobbing wreck on the floor.
Another time we went to a restaurant and another woman a few tables
away kept staring at me. Tamara noticed and walked over to her table.
They exchanged words staring at each other with fire in both their
eyes. The other woman was tall (I think Tamara especially enjoyed
cutting women bigger than her down to size), dark, with large breasts
and shapely hips and looked like one of those tough, sassy women who
know they're pretty and can command any situation. The two women said
a few more words and then Tamara came back to the table and told me we
were to have guests that night and with that she stood up and we left.
The other woman, whose name it turned out was Liz, left accompanied by
a girl friend and followed us to our house.
I'll never forget how beautiful Tamara looked that night as she stepped
into the ring. She wore a beautiful, satiny pair of powder blue
panties with lace trim around the legs and no bra, and her red boxing
gloves. Her opponent was also stunning, flowered panties her impudent
breasts jutting out as if daring Tamara to harm them.
They fought for a long time, I think the fight went eighteen rounds,
but Tamara was always in control. Although Liz was able to land some
good punches, Tamara landed many more, to the face, breasts and body.
She knocked the other women down repeatedly, but never visited the mat
herself. She taunted Liz into continuing on well past the time she
should have given up and taken the count, but Tamara insulted her
looks, her body, her parentage, her womanhood, and her fighting
ability. She pasted her bigger opponent time after time with stinging
hooks and jabs, bloodying her nose, closing her left eye, and bruising
her ample boobs. When Liz could rise no more, Tamara had me take a
picture of her standing over her defeated and sobbing opponent, one
foot on her chest, her arms in the air.
One day, I was out in the park and stopped to watch a softball game
between two adult teams, probably some loose league of teams from local
businesses. I noticed an attractive, athletic-looking woman with a
baseball mitt behind the bleachers trying to have a catch with one of
the guys from one of the teams, but he just wanted to get out on the
field and warm up with his buddies. He impatiently threw the ball for
her a couple of times (she caught it each time and threw back
competently) and then ran off with a mumbled something about getting
ready leaving her standing, hands on hips, looking after him with an
unhappy look.
I walked over to her, we talked a bit and played catch for quite a
while. She said her name was Samantha but that everyone had always
called her Sissy. We talked through the whole game and then parted
with no real mention of a future meeting. I really liked her. I would
never dare to cheat on Tamara, and she was involved with this other
guy, but I felt like I wanted to keep seeing her. I started to go to
all of her boyfriend's games in the park and we met frequently and
talked. She was medium height, in her late thirties, short dark hair,
wide hips, smallish breasts. She loved sports, especially of the
competitive variety, and she seemed quite fit. She knew I was with
someone, as I knew she was, but we didn't talk about it and never
mentioned Tamara's love of boxing, even though it was on my mind
because of the sports theme. Maybe I should have.
One afternoon, Sissy and I were talking and laughing, sitting on a
blanket when I turned and saw Tamara striding purposefully towards us.
My heart almost stopped, I could see she was mad and suddenly I had
visions of her punching me out right there in front of everyone. Or
Sissy. Or both of us. Tamara stopped, put her hands on her hips and
stared at us without speaking.
"Uh, Tamara, this is Sissy, er...ah... Samantha, but everyone calls
her..." I stammered foolishly, my face getting red. I was acting
guiltier than I was and I knew it, but I couldn't get control of
myself. What if Tamara told Sissy everything about our relationship,
about me getting whipped by her in the boxing ring dressed in women's
undies...I had to head her off. "Sissy's boyfriend," I put special
emphasis on the word, "is playing ball here, and we...I mean I...was
walking by and..." My voice trailed off under Tamara's withering gaze.
Sissy stared at her cooly. "This isn't the first time you two have met,
is it?" Tamara asked. I stared at her feet and didn't reply.
"I'm very disappointed in you, Robert," she said to me. "Say goodbye
to your friend and follow me home, we have some things to discuss."
Then Tamara walked over to Sissy who had gotten to her feet and without
warning delivered a stinging backhanded slap to her right cheek
spinning Sissy half around, her eyes momentarily went unfocused, her
knees buckled and she went down. Tamara stood over her and said
calmly, "If you want to do something about that, Robert will give you
the address." And with that, she turned on her heel and walked away.
Sissy shook the stars out of her eyes and started to rush after Tamara.
I grabbed her and held her. "Don't," I said to her, "you'll regret
it, she's really pretty tough. She likes to beat people up and she's
good at it. I've seen her take on much larger and stronger women than
you and knock them into the next county. Give it up."
"Never!" Sissy spat out. A trickle of blood was coming out the corner
of her mouth and she wiped it away angrily. "Nobody treats me that
way, nobody! I'll..." She was so angry, tears were starting in her
eyes and she was stamping her foot. She had always seemed so serene,
but Tamara's slap had shown me a determined side of her that I had not
glimpsed. "Give me the address and tell your girlfriend that I'll be
there this evening at seven, OK?"
I tried talking her out of it, but it was no use. I asked her if she
had ever boxed before and she said no, but she could take care of
herself. She wouldn't take no for an answer and in the end I gave her
the address and told her I'd see her tonight. She walked off, her
right fist still clenched at her side. I stood there hoping that when
she would cool down she would come to her senses and not go through
with this, but I had misjudged Sissy in a big way.
Sissy did appear at the door at the appointed hour and I let her in.
Tamara was ready for her and was actually quite friendly, very relaxed
and confident, greeting her opponent in a long, slinky robe, her hair
loose and flowing to her shoulders. Sissy was dressed in jeans and a
simple white shirt and looked apprehensive and angry. I could tell
that the smack in the park was still on her mind and could read the
determination in her face. We went downstairs and when she saw the
ring set up down there, the boxing gloves in each corner and she fully
realized what she had gotten herself in to, she started looking
downright scared. But she was too proud to back out now and never said
a word about quitting.
Tamara had climbed into the ring and slipped out of her robe. She was
wearing a beautiful pair of pink, lacy panties and no bra. By dressing
this way, she sent a message to her opponent about the kind of fight
this would be. Sissy understood implicitly and began removing her
clothes. I helped Tamara get her boxing gloves on and then turned to
Sissy to help her. My senses were assaulted by the sight of her lovely
form standing there wearing nothing but white, satiny panties with a
wide lace waistband. As I helped her on with her gloves, I tried to
give her a few boxing pointers and she listened intently and nodded
frequently. I felt sorry for her and for the beating I was sure Tamara
would give her, the humiliation she would make her suffer. I asked her
one more time to quit and she smiled and said no, banging her padded
gloves together, staring at Tamara bouncing in the opposite corner.
ROUND 1
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