“Two of our members, Shelly and Dan, are unfortunately getting divorced. They are both keen martial artists and they have come up with a novel idea for settling their divorce. Rather than hiring solicitors, they have hired our cage! For a fraction of the fee they would pay for a legal settlement, they have agreed to settle the details in the way that MMA fans understand best! We have even given them a discount, as Dan has agreed to fight naked, which we encourage all our male fighters to do if it’s a mixed match.

“This upcoming fight will have rivalry, bitterness and acrimony a-plenty to spice it up. No boring, honourable contest for our loyal fans! If you are not already members, with exclusive TV viewing rights, we advise you to subscribe and join now. You won’t want to miss this one!”

Some may not approve of Shelly and Dan’s decision - to say nothing of the glee with which the MMA club publicised their forthcoming fight. But that’s a matter for personal conscience. The purpose of this report is to describe what took place, not to pass judgement.

So man and woman, still formally husband and wife, entered the cage. Money had indeed flown into the club as thousands bought memberships to view the event. Shelly wore her trademark white leotard, with matching white boots, beloved of her personal fans. The leotard was long-sleeved and clung to her body, emphasising in particular the beautiful curve of her lovely breasts. (“Whatever does he want to get divorced for?” thought several hundred men).

Excitement in living rooms was palpable when she raised her fists. Women wanted to see a member of their own sex win; and men … well, what did they think? First of all, it was natural for a man not to want to see a woman get hurt. After that, there was a confusion of feelings. Some found the sight of a beautiful woman preparing to fight sexually exciting; others had a horror that she might beat a man, yet had an addictive desire to watch the fight all the same.

Dan raised his fists, and the two circled. He opened the bout with a straight left, which Shelly escaped by slipping to her side. He tried again with a right. The expression on his face and the force of the punch seemed to have, “I want the bloody flat” written all over them. Well, he didn’t get it this time, because Shelly arched her body back so that it went over her shoulder.

She was playing a dangerous game, hoping to tire him out with wasted shots at her, but so far it seemed to be paying off. His fist sailed past her – rather too close for comfort – a third time.

Many viewers cheered when she at last responded with a super kick. But it wasn’t really successful. Pivoting on her left foot, she kicked back at his head, but he managed to protect it with his right arm. True, he got a bruised wrist for it, but she had been aiming for the head.

She tried a body punch, but he put both his arms up correctly to ward it off. You certainly couldn’t fault the defensive techniques of either fighter, but there was a growing sense of frustration that neither of them had yet been able to score anything substantial. If there had been a live audience, it would have been getting restive. The directors of the club, watching anxiously on their big screen, began to fear demands for refunds after they had charged a lot of money to view the fight.

But all such fears changed when Dan stunned Shelly with his forearm thrusting against her neck and shoulders. It forced her to stoop, and he seized her right arm to lock it behind her back and over his right shoulder.

Be careful what you wish for! Many viewers indeed wished they could go back to the defensive displays of the past couple of minutes or so, rather than see this. It was made worse for them when she gave a little yelp, as he pulled her up by the wrist while pushing down with his forearm across her shoulders. Viewers heard him murmur, “Looks like I’ll get to keep the flat, doesn’t it?”

Gloating, like a school bully after hurting a weaker, smaller child, he let her go – then screamed when she grabbed his balls. Seizing him by his near, left wrist, Shelly crunched her husband’s balls in her left hand. The camera crew did a superb job, homing in on the view of her glorious round bottom in the foreground, as she bent forward to grind Dan where he was most vulnerable. They knew what the viewers wanted to see!

“What’s wrong, dear?” people heard her ask unpleasantly. “I thought you liked it when I caressed your balls.”

He bent over yelling, trying vainly to escape her merciless grip. He thought the pain would drive him mad. The fight promoters certainly hadn’t been wrong about the “rivalry, bitterness and acrimony” as he roared a string of expletives and insults at his wife, and she answered back with things like “selfish bastard” and “shagging every woman in sight”.

Couples watching the fight exchanged glances. “Should we be watching this?” was a question asked in several living rooms. It was as if the cameras were in the living room of a couple having a row which gets out of hand, where neighbours end up calling the police.

Shelly let Dan collapse to the mat, but only to head scissor him. He had been mindful not to give her a chance to do this, since he knew how strong her legs were. But she had driven him to distraction with her assault on his balls, and he couldn’t think straight. Worse, the position she was in, she could continue that assault. Facing down his body, along his back, she sandwiched his neck in her forceful thighs while she reached down between his legs with her left hand and joined it with her right.

As so often, things weren’t black-and-white with this couple. While Dan was undoubtedly a bad husband, Shelly was “no angel” as a wife either. She gave an indication of it now, with both her hands tormenting his manhood (while scissoring the life out of his neck). Sometimes she would ease off with the pain and start to play and tease, as she had when they were newly married. One touch with the tip of her finger could make him erect, she knew, and she amused herself now by getting him into that state, then returning to the ball torture.

She changed position, but not holds. Swinging Dan onto his side, using the scissor, she now faced down his front. She held his near, left arm by the wrist in her left hand, in case he should try to counterattack. With her right hand … you can guess. She chose this position, because she could have some fun watching the result of her handiwork.

Some men watching at home had to look away when the camera showed a close up of her hand squeezing Dan’s balls wickedly hard. One man thought to himself, “Can a woman be as cruel as that?” He stole a worried, furtive glance at his wife, grinning at the TV screen, and got the answer he didn’t want.

Using the scissor again, Shelly worked Dan onto his back, so she could pursue her “work” from a more comfortable position, resting on her right shoulder. She smiled at the mastery she had over her husband, just by holding his cock and balls. It was just like the old days, when she used to do it for his pleasure. He was stuck fast in her constricting head scissor, which was bad enough; but this was a woman with a grievance against him and the freedom to do as she chose with his manhood.

“You’ve always had a little cock,” she smirked. “Look how I can fit both it and your balls in my hand – oh sorry, you can’t move your head, can you?”

Viewers heard Dan croak some incoherent entreaty as she shifted him again within the scissor, so that she lay underneath him on her back. As ever, his head was lodged between her crossed legs, while his near, right arm was locked in the crook of her left arm against her side. Disconcertingly (for him) it nestled against her ample left breast.

He arched his back, in an attempt to escape the vice-like grip of her right hand on his balls. It was an instinctive, natural, but futile reaction. The smiling, pretty woman (with “Pretty Girl” written in attractive writing on her leotard’s left side) continued her agonising manipulations.

Shelly put Dan into the most ungainly position. She bundled him so that his head, shoulders and feet rested on the mat, while his ugly backside pointed up in the air. She knelt so that she was straddling his legs. Holding his left arm, she knelt on his other arm, once again leaving her right hand free to do that which it did best.

But it wasn’t good enough. She had relinquished the scissor, and we can’t have that! Supporting herself on her left side, she half-scissored his neck in the crook of her left leg. As usual, facing down his body, she was able to watch – and enjoy – the workings of her hand on his balls.

With a lithe, brisk movement, Shelly brought her other leg back to the scissor and scooped Dan up and across her. He seemed to be suspended in the air, although his feet were on the mat. Where she led with her legs, he had to follow, head first. Meanwhile, her hand seemed to be permanently attached to his balls. Lying beneath him, she was able to continue her squeezing, making Dan hoarse with his screams.

Forsaking the scissor, Shelly turned him onto his back. Kneeling on her left knee, she forced him over her right one by the shoulders, backbreaker style. She pushed his head down with her right hand under his chin, to compound the backbreaker’s effect on him, while she gave her left hand a go with his manhood. She was, in fact, holding him in place by his balls.

This seemed to give her an idea. She pushed him onto his front, then, facing into his side, pulled him up by the hair with her right hand, and pushed him up by his balls with her left. Naturally, she continued her diabolical progress in emasculating him. Actually, Dan tried to pay her back and do a similar thing to her sex; but the way she had him placed, his hand had very little power, reaching backwards at an awkward angle.

This was not the case with Shelly’s next move. She placed him on his back. Kneeling to the side of him, and facing up his body, she moved to continue her punishment of his balls. But she exposed her face above him. His great paw of a left hand shot up and banged her under the chin. This was a much more serious counterattack than his previous attempt, and it was a reminder that Dan was a serious MMA fighter who would exploit any lapse on her part. But she never let go of his balls.

As has been said about another event, he assaulted his gaoler but remained in gaol. In fact she went to work with greater gusto, annoyed with herself for providing him with a target. He groaned at her renewed attack and tried to roll away to escape. She partially let him, though still kept hold. He got onto his side, so she whipped her right leg over his uppermost shoulder, to half-scissor his neck. He instantly regretted the move, since it was a return to his dual endurance of before. Once again he struggled to breathe, while she worked agonies on his manhood.

Shelly’s smile returned. She settled down to a new position, lying down his back with her left leg over him to keep him in place. She now worked his balls from behind and underneath. Dan had no idea that his wife was capable of such prolonged cruelty; still less that she would enjoy it.

She rolled him onto his back for a head lock. Gripping his neck in the crook of her left arm, her right hand went on with its twisted task (literally). He tried to take her hand off, but if anything, the struggle over his balls worsened the pain, while her arm did to his neck what her legs had done earlier.

Talking of which, for a finale, she lay to the side of him on her back and over his near, right arm. With her right leg underneath him and her left leg half-scissoring his throat, she achieved a head-and-body scissor. To complete this complicated hold, she locked his left arm above his head by crossing her ankles over it and wedging it against his face. Meanwhile she squeezed, tugged and ground his cock and balls.

Dan was delirious with pain. He gave one last despairing moan and passed out. Several hundred men sighed with relief that his ordeal was over. Several hundred women glowed with pride, watching one of their own sex stand triumphant over the man she had just defeated.

*****

A few days later, Shelly gave an interview to a female journalist from the MMA club’s magazine. When asked what advice she would give to a woman who got into a fight with a man, she unhesitatingly asserted:

“Grab his balls and never let go.”