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Some men are bastards with women, and some women seem (oddly) to be attracted to them. Some men are wimps, but think they’re bastards and try to behave as such, usually ending in disaster for them. Phillip was one such man.
When Julia, a nice young woman, joined his local gym, he lost no time in mocking her well-proportioned body by calling her “Thunder Thighs” and “Bubble Butt”. Julia ignored it for a while, but after getting friendly with some of the girls there, asked them about Phillip. “He’s a wimp,” they all told her. “He and his mate Todd,” one of them said, “are always getting themselves into situations they can’t handle. Fight him, you’ll win easily.”
Learning that Phillip and his girlfriend, Phoebe, booked the gym for a private session the same time every week, Julia decided to spoil it for them by going in at the same time. What she didn’t expect was to find Phillip naked. He was startled but tried to brazen it out. But his “Thunder Thighs” and “Bubble Butt” were no match for the “Diminutive Dick” that she called him, much to Phoebe’s amusement. When Julia proceeded to shove him, Phoebe decided it would be much more fun to watch her beat him up (a certainty) than to indulge in whatever kinky business they usually got up to.
Julia had been building herself up for this, reliving Phillip’s insults to make herself angry. She chose to wear a peach-coloured leotard, which emphasised her red hair, and stretched itself tightly around her breasts and “bubble butt”. (She suspected, rightly, that Phillip secretly admired her body.) So when she pushed him, there was nothing half-hearted about it, and he nearly went down.
However, he recovered and pushed her back. Furious, Julia gave him a second push, showing considerable strength, and this time he did go down.
“Get up and fight her!” Phoebe commanded, looking trim and fetching in her purple leotard and matching boots, but showing disgust at his feebleness.
Phillip did as he was told. He and Julia circled, then he struck with his right hand. In a lightning reflex, she seized his wrist, startling him with her speed, then gripped him round his waist with both arms. God, she was strong! It was, in effect, a body scissor, and she proceeded to squeeze the breath out of him.
When Phillip started to tremble, Julia let go. Grabbing his right arm, she hit him across the chest with her right arm, in a stationary clothesline. Having already weakened him, she turned round, kept his right arm locked, and pushed him downwards. Phoebe nodded in satisfaction when he collapsed onto the mat with the dominant Julia above him. She locked his left arm over her left thigh, trapping it with her body, and head locked him.
Next, she opted for an unconventional pin. She stretched out above him and placed her forearms over his throat, choking him. When he did indeed begin to choke, she changed the hold to the more familiar schoolgirl pin, tormenting him by grinding her sex against his naked cock.
After rolling him round into a sleeper, Julia asked Phillip if he submitted, adding “bitch” for good measure. Following a silence from him that seemed more sulky than defiant, she insisted he “Submit now”. With her powerful arms around his neck, he really had no choice, just about managing to utter, “I submit”.
But that wasn’t enough for Julia. No, she wanted him to tell his girlfriend he submitted, just to lay on the humiliation. For the second time, Phillip did as he was told, adding “please make her stop” to Phoebe. Surprisingly, Phoebe did indeed come over and coaxed Julia off him, congratulating her at the same time.
Still, Julia wasn’t going to be deprived of her win, and she posed over the stricken Phillip, standing with one foot on his chest. For his part, he showed no desire to do anything other than lie there on his back, and Phoebe again demanded he “get up and fight”.
“Let’s have a 2 out of 3 fight,” said Julia, in what was more of an instruction than a suggestion. Having no choice, Phillip went along with it.
They locked up, and straight away Phillip felt her strong grip again. It was disconcerting for him to know she was stronger than he was, and he tried to shut the thought from his mind. But she was also skilled, he decided, when she had him sailing down to the mat once more. A three-pronged combination of her right leg hooking itself behind his right leg, while she locked his right arm, and pushed him hard on the chin had done it, and down he went.
Julia obviously enjoyed pinning him, and why not? There is no more effective way for a woman to impose her dominance on a man than the good old reliable schoolgirl variety. As her shapely, fulsome body crushed his, she stared into his eyes, establishing both a psychological and physical ascendency.
Having wordlessly “talked” him into inevitable defeat, she proceeded to bend and twist his body to her will, starting with his arms. He briefly tried to resist, clutching her jaw with a temporarily free hand, but she grabbed his wrist in her strong grip, then the other one. She pulled them over his thighs, so that his arms and legs crossed, making him look like an upside-down folding table, and she sat on his thighs (and manhood, for good measure). It had the effect of an unconventional back breaker.
Phoebe looked on, enjoying the way this dominatrix/wrestler was both bullying her boyfriend and teasing him by rubbing her sex against his manhood. She resolved to learn to wrestle herself, it looked so much fun.
She applauded when the formidable redhead lay with her legs across Phillip, and pulled his left arm between them, locking it. She nodded her approval when he yelled out in pain, and noted the way Julia brushed his outstretched hand against her breast, just to keep that sexual teasing going.
It was a simple transition for her now to move onto her back, while keeping hold of his arm, and pull him to his knees in a triangle choke. She crossed her ankles behind his neck, to lock him in place.
“How do my thunder thighs feel, bitch?” she demanded, entrapping him within them. Then followed the question whether he submitted, while she tweaked his nose playfully.
Phillip almost certainly would have submitted, but he passed out before he could. How satisfying for Julia to have her erstwhile tormentor unconscious at her feet! She raised her arms in an oh-so-satisfying victory pose before placing a foot on the defeated man’s chest. Joining in the fun, Phoebe came over to raise Julia’s right arm, relishing the part of an unofficial (and totally biased) referee.
The two women then embraced, and Julia told Phoebe about an idea: boxing. They picked the still slumbering Phillip up, placed him in the ring, and put yellow boxing gloves on his hands. When he came to, he was treated to the magnificent sight of Julia doing warm-up exercises. With a groan, he realised that he had no choice but to take her on. Julia, her body tingling with her movements, chuckled when she watched him stir. Having knocked him out wrestling, she was eager to do the same to him, boxing.
The formalities over, the two fighters met in the middle and began to circle. Phillip opened the hostilities with a left jab, which Julia blocked, before showing him how it was done. His head jerked to one side as her glove opened its account on his face. She followed up with a similar, but firmer, strike. He stumbled while he tasted leather. Phoebe looked on, thrilled as the woman landed hard punches on the feeble man.
Her next one, a right cross to the jaw, put him down, making Pheobe’s eyes bulge in astonishment. If someone had described to her what had just happened, she wouldn’t believe it. But she had seen a woman punch a man so hard it put him on his back, there, right in front of her. She must learn to box, too!
Phillip, appalled at the turn of events, looked up at Julia. She was impatiently gesturing to him to get up and carry on. He had no choice, especially as his girlfriend was watching. He must do something to restore some pride. It was bad enough that she’d beaten him at wrestling in front of Phoebe; to then be hammered by her at boxing would be unbearable!
He got up to face the grinning Julia. Phoebe watched, fixated and fascinated, as they circled once more. She shivered with a thrill when Julia got him on the jaw with her left. But her fist jerked his face away from her, so she didn’t catch the despairing look that he wore.
Julia’s right fist seemed to explode on Phillip’s chest, such was the effect it had on him. It was time to wear him down with body blows, and she followed up with a nasty one low in the kidney with her left. It was touch and go whether he would pass out with the dull, slow-burning pain she inflicted. Unluckily for him, though, he remained conscious.
Phoebe gaped at Julia’s next punch. She’d seen a fair amount of boxing on the television, and knew a bit about it. But it had always been men’s boxing, and she had never imagined a woman throwing an uppercut. Yet there it was, a few paces away from where she was standing. It was a good uppercut too, and as Julia’s fist landed with the “thwack” of leather on skin, and Phillip staggered backwards trying to stay on his feet, she experienced a second thrill that was of pure sexual excitement.
She tutted and nearly jeered when Phillip clinched, playing for time. But all it did was to put him on the ropes, because of Julia’s greater strength. When she let go, Phillip lunged desperately, despairingly, with his left; Julia just leant to the side and plunged her left into his stomach. It seemed to pin him to the middle rope.
Julia obviously liked uppercutting, and a second superb one from her forced Phillip’s head over the top rope. Phoebe laughed at the absurdity of his left glove landing in a spot that would have hit Julia if she had been 7 feet tall. Compare that with Julia’s smart white glove planted, jaw and chin, exactly where she intended.
Julia now swung her left arm in an expansive arc. Her fist hooked into Phillip’s jaw and sent him spinning. Phoebe licked her lips in pleasure as her boyfriend was despatched 180 degrees by the woman’s curved punch.
It was excellent tactics, because it jammed Phillip into a corner. Julia made sure he stayed there with another left to his kidney, into the area that was still tender from the last blow there. That’s right, thought Pheobe, create a weakness then exploit it, and Phillip gave a satisfying yell of pain to confirm how well it had been achieved.
Talking of which, Julia got him for a third time, jaw and chin, with another uppercut. Phillip duly acknowledged the strike with a plaintive cry of pain. Phoebe had never seen a woman look so sexy as Julia when she fought. Her fabulous round bottom swayed in her tight, wispy leotard as her fist struck home, and her breasts threatened to burst free of their threadbare confinement at any moment.
Julia cracked Phillip’s battered chin with a second left hook. The result wasn’t as spectacular as before because he was stuck in the corner and couldn’t go anywhere. On the other hand, there was no escape from the full force of her fist.
Now came the most enthralling punch of the lot. Julia treated the appreciative spectator to a match-winning right cross. It struck the hapless male plumb on the chin and drove him between the top and middle ropes, with his head well beyond them.
That was it for Phillip. He could face no more, and dropped to his hands and knees in abject defeat. Julia celebrated her victory. He wouldn’t be insulting her again any time soon! She started to count him out. At 4, she simply asked, “Phillip??”, wondering if she would get any sort of response. She didn’t, so she carried on counting. At 9 she told him, “Bubble Butt is winning”; at 10 it was, “And the winner is Thunder Thighs”. So saying, she pushed him down with her foot on his head, and raised her arms in victory.
Phoebe came and raised Julia’s hand, as tradition demands. After that, the turn of events – or rather the reason for them – is unclear. The upshot was, Julia and Phoebe began to wrestle. Did Phoebe experience some belated loyalty for her boyfriend, still lying prone on the mat? Were they both so infected by adrenalin that they started spontaneously fighting?
We don’t know. What we do know is that there followed a lively postscript to the main event. Julia instantly had Phoebe in a headlock, her right arm snapping shut around the smaller woman’s neck. This brought them both down on the mat as Julia intended, whereupon she straddle pinned Phoebe, using her greater weight to dominate her.
But she didn’t want to go too hard on Phoebe, because she had developed an affection for her. Instead, she forsook the straddle, and just lay above Phoebe. Still excited by her recent victory, she began to rub her body over her. Phoebe, for her part, admired Julia and adored the way she had fought, so it was easy for her to succumb to the attraction of large breasts being moved around her face.
They started kissing. “I’m taking you home,” Julia told her, and Phoebe’s response of “YES” confirmed their mutual attachment.
Julia helped Phoebe up. They embraced then left the ring hand-in-hand, without so much as a glance at the defeated male, still lying face-down on the mat.