Mixed boxing, 280 pictures 1920x1080 (Full HD), partially CFNM, no blood.

It was the Ladies’ Gym Committee who came up with the idea of a strip match, a male-female boxing match where each time a contestant was knocked down they had to remove an item of clothing. Proceeds from the match would go to charity.

What made a respectable body of women decide on such a seedy event? Darren Hughes. All the girls at the gym complained about Darren. He was a sexual predator, and he had a taste for causing pain as well. If a new girl joined the gym he would offer to spar with her, and end up hurting her. He was known to fight dirtily too, and aim for the breasts. The committee was powerless to take action over the complaints because Darren’s father owned the gym.

Hence the strip match. It was the sort of thing a perverted bully like Darren would relish, and they knew he would apply to be the male contestant. He was an amateur boxer, and reasonable enough, though not as good as he thought he was – pictures of him in various boxing poses adorned the walls of the gym. The women reasoned that if they could arrange a public humiliation of him, he wouldn’t ever go to the gym again. It would also good for a laugh, and they would give the gym girls who had complained free tickets. Now, all they needed was a professional female boxer willing to take part. So they advertised …

*****

Suzanne listened to what was required of her, and licked her lips. Humiliating a male bully? She’d adore it! But was she a good enough boxer? She produced press clippings and pictures of her various matches. She also explained that she was an accomplished gymnast, which greatly enhanced her defensive ability. Sometimes, she explained, defence could be a physical and psychological weapon. Obviously it stopped you getting hurt; but it also drained your opponent of energy, and often frustrated him into making a mistake. It was also good fun taunting him if he missed.

Suzanne was hired and the event was advertised in the gym. She was described as a newcomer to the town, and her professional status as a boxer not mentioned. Sure enough the only male to apply was Darren. Word spread about the match and it sold out.

*****

Janet Simmons of the ladies’ committee looked about apprehensively. It was a noisy crowd already, and the match hadn’t even started.

“I hope we’ve done the right thing,” she murmured to the woman sitting next to her, Jane Samuel.”

“I was thinking that,” Jane agreed.

They both surveyed the crowd. Near them was a group of girls they recognised from the gym, all with their phones at the ready to take pictures. Behind them to the left they heard a young man saying earnestly, “This isn’t really my thing. I like a proper boxing match.”

“Leave off,” answered one of his friends, “Anything for a bit of bum and tit. He won’t hurt her, it’ll be staged.”

A cheer went up as Darren approached and entered the ring; then a roar as Suzanne appeared.

“Good God!” exclaimed Jane to Janet, “When we saw Suzanne at the interview she was dressed quite modestly. She looks like a statue of Venus in that leotard!”

“Jealous dear?” asked Janet, archly.

“Of course I’m bloody jealous!” Jane snapped, to Janet’s laughter.

Suzanne entered the ring, and she and Darren regarded each other. Darren could be seen saying something, but he made sure it was so quiet that only Suzanne heard it:

“Before long I’ll have that leotard off you, and I’ll be spanking that big arse of yours, bitch.”

Suzanne raised an eyebrow.

“Bitch,” he said more loudly this time, so it could be heard, before lunging at her with his right, his face a picture of spite. She easily parried it. The crowd went silent. Next, by a sudden movement of her left leg behind Darren’s right leg, she punched him in the face, causing him to fall backwards, tripped up by her leg.

A cheer went up from the gym girls.

“Not strictly a boxing move,” stated the earnest young man.

“Why don’t you shut up?” someone suggested behind him.

It had happened so quickly that none of the gym girls had managed to take a picture. “Never mind,” consoled one, I’ve just got a lovely one with her above him, threatening his balls with her knee.”

“Oh dear,” muttered Jane.

Suzanne now raised her fist and hammered it into Darren’s face. The crowd heard his gasp of pain. Next she brought the two of them up, and in a confused jumble of limbs, he threatened to overwhelm her. But she managed to escape, and they stood warily facing each other. The crowd could see the change that had come over Darren. He’d had a shock, and all the bravado had gone from him. He had to fight hard, or he’d be the one to lose his clothing – along with his pride.

He tried his luck again with his left; once again Suzanne deflected it, and followed up by ramming her right knee into his chest, with her right hand forcing his head into her left fist.

The earnest young man was not impressed. “Tut tut, this is more like a brawl – oh, that’s BETTER.”

Suzanne followed up with a perfect back-handed right that had Darren dazed. Giving him no time to recover, she attacked his kidney area. He was retreating. Now she feinted at his face with her right. He brought both his fists up in defence, leaving his stomach an easy target. Her uppercut into it drew the breath out of him. She had him against the ropes now, as she clipped him nastily with a left hook. Now he was lined up exactly as she wanted him …

“What a wonderful, orthodox straight left,” admired the earnest young man. “It had everything right: poise, balance, delivery … she’s done it again.”

She had indeed. Her classic straight right brought Darren down. Suzanne raised her arms in triumph as he lay helpless at her feet.

“Did you see that?” a young man in the 4^th row asked his girlfriend. She looked at him curiously. He was red in the face and shaking slightly. She glanced down at his lap, nodded knowingly to herself, and draped her coat over both their laps. She slipped her hand underneath it, and began playing around at the front of his trousers.

“You can’t do that here!” he implored her.

“Just try and stop me,” she sniggered, before deftly undoing his trousers with the one hand, and pulling the zip down. Her hand snaked wickedly inside the waistband of his underpants, and grasped its prey.

Suzanne acknowledged the cheers of the crowd. Janet and Jane exchanged satisfied glances and the gym girls compared their pictures. Meanwhile Darren began to stir, groaning. As agreed, he removed his boxing boots, and a cheer went up from the girls. Suzanne watched as Darren rose painfully to his feet, mocking him, to the delight of the girls.

She tempted him to attack her, and he obliged, expending energy in hitting empty space. At his second attempt she employed her gymnastic skills and somersaulted out of harm’s way, to the wonder of the crowd. She landed elegantly as Darren was still executing his punch. At the right moment she drove her elbow into his ribs, following it up with a back-handed left into his already bruised face.

But now she made her only mistake. She was over-ambitious, and tried a jump-punch which didn’t work. Darren responded with an elbow into her stomach.

“Bastard!” yelled one of the gym girls.

“Bully!” shouted another, and there followed worse on that.

“She’s all right,” breathed a third one with relief, as Suzanne replied with another uppercut into his stomach. “Go on girl, punch him one for me!” she concluded.

Darren felt sick. His stomach seemed as if it was on fire. “Must concentrate,” he thought, “Can’t let her beat me … aaaggghhhh!” Suzanne’s right hook stopped him thinking about his stomach, and had him back against the ropes.

“Just glorious,” uttered the earnest young man, as an uppercut would have brought Darren down on his back, had the ropes not been there to support him. The girl in the 4^th row stared at the action, while working away with her hand, her boyfriend in a trance by now.

A flurry of punches had Darren staggering about, desperate not to fall down. He even clung to Suzanne’s voluptuous body to stop himself. She responded with her elbow on his neck; but still he refused to land. He now tried to hold himself in place by the ropes, and Suzanne had to force him down. At last she prevailed, and she raised her arms once more in acknowledgement of the cheers.

After some moments Darren struggled up to his knees, and Suzanne regarded him with her hands on her hips. She looked at his shorts suggestively, while the gym girls chanted, “Shorts off, shorts off, shorts off!”

A guffaw arose from them once they saw him naked. “He’s got a boner!” exclaimed one. “What a picture that’ll make for the gym wall!” chortled another. “Ah, is she beating you up then?” a third one asked. “Yeah, but it looks as if he’s enjoying it,” suggested a 4^th. Suzanne lazily placed her boot underneath Darren’s testicles, giving the girl in the 4^th row an idea. She reached down, and her slender fingers cupped and lightly pinched their way over her boyfriend’s balls, before returning to their original target.

With her boot still underneath Darren’s balls, Suzanne asked him softly, “Wasn’t this the moment you were going to be spanking my big bottom? How’s that working out for you?”

She left off, and Darren rose unsteadily to his feet. One eye was fully closed over, the other partially. The rest of his face was no better. It was a weird patchwork of red, grey and purple. Suzanne smiled. It was time to conclude this, she decided. The crowd sensed it too. It fell silent as she set to work. All you could hear was the landing of her punches and the cries of pain from Darren. The earnest young man stared open-mouthed; the gym girls gaped, their phones forgotten; the girl in the 4^th row, realising the climax was near, worked her hand up and down furiously.

Suzanne’s trusted straight rights and lefts brought Darren crashing onto his back for the last time. She followed by sitting on him, her superb buttocks rubbing against his erect penis, and punched him unconscious. The crowd roared their cheers, and the girl in the 4^th row applied a wet wipe to her hand, her boyfriend looking as if he too had faced Suzanne in the ring.