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Well, it shouldn't take long, Mike thought. Martha was a tiny chit of a girl, 5'5" and 120lbs. A puff of wind would blow her over, and she'd always been a gentle, submissive soul. Now she stood, in the opposite corner, ready to fight him, wearing the black cotton leotard he liked most, white long socks and white sneakers which made her look positively virginal and extremely vulnerable.
Mike felt his cock begin to rise as he took in the sight of his sexy little wife in the outfit she knew turned him on more than any other. He forced himself to think of the contest and resolved to end this farce quickly and get his life back on course.
He walked purposefully forward with the intention of grabbing his elfin wife in a bear hug and queezing her into him until she submitted to his masculine strength.
Martha waited, outwardly coy, yet her stomach churning with apprehension as the massive figure of her husband bore down on her. She knew the effect her outfit of black leotard and white long socks had on him and expected that he would be reluctant to hurt her. But she couldn't believe he'd be so stupid as to leave himself wide open like this!
As he reached out his muscle laden arms to grab her, Martha reacted to a situation she'd been in a dozen times in practice. The girl kicked her husband in the balls.
With a howl of distress, Mike folded over, clutching his balls, and sank moaning to the canvas.
Martha was shocked by what she'd done. She knelt beside her stricken mate, full of concern, and put her hand on his heaving shoulder. "Oh, I'm so sorry, Mike. I didn't mean to hurt you, it just happened. Are you all right....?"
After the initial shock of the hit to his balls, Mike recovered rapidly. Now, all he wanted to do was repay the girl who had hurt him, and here she was, kneeling beside him, asking if he was all right!
Mike reached out as though pleading for help. Then, as the concerned woman went to his aid, he pulled her frail body into him and wrapped his arms round her slender waist.
"Gottcha!" he cried, triumphantly, as the girl let out a screech of alarm. "Now give in before I crush your ribs in!"
For a moment Martha was so furious at her treacherous male opponent, that she didn't appreciate the predicament she was in. "You rat!" she hissed. "I wanted to help you, and you pull this dirty.. Ow!"
Mike applied some pressure, and brought the girl back to reality. Mike had rolled onto his back, and held the girl on top of him, his arms round her body, pinning her to his barrel like chest so that her head rested under his chin.
He squeezed her. "You'd better give in, my love," he said, not unkindly, "before I break your ribs. I don't really want to hurt you, so come on, give!" He applied more pressure.
Martha's body went limp. With a grunt of satisfaction, Mike let go and began to roll her aside. Then the girl was on him. Before he knew what was happening, the lithe young woman thrust herself onto his chest, grabbed the astonished man by the hair and jabbed her fingers into his eyes.
There was no mercy now in Martha's heart. Her husband's treacherous attack had awakened all her dormant aggression. All she wanted to do was hammer the man to defeat. She balled hertiny fists as Mike screeched in pain and brought his hands up to his damaged eyes.
Mercilessly, the girl in black leotard straddled the man's chest and smashed punches into his throat and face, loving the sound of her female fist smacking into male flesh.
Mike's arms came up to ward off the girl's attack and Martha rolled away and sprang lightly to her feet.
Eyes watering, Mike also tried to get to his feet, but was much slower than his agile young wife. As he rose on hands on knees, the pumped up virago drove her foot into his ribs. Mike's body jolted with the force of the blow but he kept coming. The girl caught him again as he got onto one knee, her foot driving into the side of his jaw, smashing his large head round to one side, almost causing him to topple over again.
But Mike was strong. He pushed himself upright into a boxer's crouch and tried to focus on the tiny female fury who was causing all his pain.
"I can be tricky, too, lover boy," taunted Martha. "Now you're going to find out what it's like to be beaten up by your wife!" Fists whirling, the deadly young girl tore into her huge male adversary. This wasn't her husband any more. This was an enemy, and enemy to be destroyed. A naked man to be conquered by a woman in leotard.
With deadly efficiency, the girl began to take the man apart.
Unable to see properly, Mike found it impossible to counter the girl's attack. His fists shot out with awesome power, but they didn't connect with anything as the nimble girl ducked and weaved, swayed out of danger, then struck back with fists like rapiers.
Toe to toe, the fighters waded into each other; two magnificent specimens of their respective genders. A huge, powerfully built, broad shouldered naked male against a gorgeous, lithe, curvaceous, graceful female in black leotard. Brute male strength against female agility. And as they fought, it was the woman who began to win the battle.
Again and again the girl's punches ripped through the man's defences, while his own attacks floundered on empty air.
Mike's arms began to feel like lumps of lead as he started to tire. Every time his eyes cleared a little to allow him to focus, a female fist smacked into them, and everything blurred over once more.
The girls of the self defence class were arriving now, chattering and squealing excitedly as they saw what was going on in the ring. They were just in time to see the massively muscled, naked male fighter being slowly driven back before the flashing fists of his diminutive female opponent.
Mike was taking hits from all directions now, and, although none of his wife's punches were devastatingly heavy, the cumulative effect of her blows were considerable. Both the man's eyes were puffed up, his top lip was split, a trickle of blood seeped from his nose and his muscle-slabbed stomach was a red blotch where the girl's fists had wreaked their destruction.
Mike was desperate to get away from his wife's relentless attack. He couldn't believe that he was being thrashed like this by the gentle little girl he'd married. How could a girl half his size do this to him! He'd fought dozens of men as big and as strong as himself in the ring, and never had he taken so much punishment as he was receiving from the slip of a girl in black leotard who was hammering him right now. Ignominiously, he tried to escape by running along the ropes!
Gleefully, Martha leapt after her fleeing husband and tripped him before he'd gone three yards.
The hulking great male grabbed at the ropes to stop himself falling, missed, and crashed to the canvas.
Martha was on him in a flash. Dropping onto his broad, muscular shoulders, the girl smacked her fist into the back and side of the man's neck, looking to strike his carotid artery to finish him off. Somehow she missed, then she marvelled at her husband's great strength as he rose to his knees with her still astride his back, smashing her fist into his neck as she held onto his hair with her other hand.
Mike determinedly ignored his wife's attack as he caught hold of the top ring rope and began to pull himself upright. The massive muscles in his thighs bulged with effort as the powerfully muscled male drove himself erect, determined to crush the tormenting female on his back by falling backwards on top of her.
But Martha was having none of it. Realising she didn't yet have enough knowledge to crush his carotid, the girl leapt from her husband's back before he could do her any harm.
She also realised that she too was tiring. The pounding she had inflicted on her husband had sapped much of her strength. The man's massive body had absorbed a terrific amount of punishment from her fists but he was still upright and still capable of fighting back. Now she needed to finish him off. She needed to bring her strong, smoothly tanned, curvaceous legs into action.
As Mike turned to face her, his guard going up to protect his head and upper body, the girl drove her foot with devastating force into his stomach. Muscles which had stood out in majestic definition at the start of the fight, had been pulped by her murderous fists. They could take no more.
For a moment, it looked as if the huge young man was impaled on the girl's foot as it sank into his gut. His thick cock jumped up with the shock of the impact and slapped against the girl's ankle before it flopped down again to shudder between the man's mighty thighs. Then, with a woosh of expelled air, Mike doubled up.
Grabbing his head in both hands as it came down, the nubile young girl in leotard smashed her knee into the bewildered man's battered face. The force of the blow jerked Mike's body upright for a second. Blood flew from a broken nose as the man's huge frame shuddered with the impact, then began to collapse.
Like a flash, the graceful girl whirled round, so her back was towards the stricken male, slid one slim arm round his neck as his mighty body crumbled, dropped to one knee, and, using the momentum of his body's descent, hauled downwards and sent the massive male warrior flying in a tangle of nerveless limbs and flopping cock over her slender shoulder to crash in a heap on the canvas.
Mike sprawled on the floor, winded, unconscious, legs and arms splayed in the shape of a cross as girls cheered Martha as she stood over the helpless naked male fighter.
Before Mike treacherous attack on her, Martha would have left the matter there. Now she was determined to destroy him!
Her husband lay helpless at her feet. She, a slip of a girl, had smashed this big, strong, powerful, massively muscled male fighter to ignominious defeat. She was highly elated, but she wanted more. She wanted to beat him so convincingly that he'd never challenge her again. She wanted to destroy his manhood, destroy his will to fight, humiliate and humble him before her, a woman!
Sinuously, she sauntered across the ring until she stood over his prostrate body. Her eyes ran over the man's magnificent physique, a physique which she'd always believed to be so superior to her own that she'd never considered to challenge male physical dominance. Now this magnificent male animal was at her mercy.
She straddled the man's heaving chest as he began to recover his senses. Cruelly she picked her spot and drove her fist into his once handsome, now bloodied face. She grasped him by the hair, then brought her clenched fist down like a mallet into her moaning husband's mouth. Then she hit him again, and again.
The girls in the audience watched in awe as the sweet looking little girl, with calm deliberation, smashed her husband's face to a battered mess. "You can beg me to stop, dear husband," mocked Martha, "and I'll stop beating you, otherwise..." Her fist clubbed into an already broken nose.
"Please stop," moaned Mike. "I beg you. Don't hit me any more." Tears rolled down the man's face as he begged his wife to stop punching him. His brain was numb with shock. The little girl he'd married had smashed him to defeat in a fight and made him beg her to stop hitting him. Now she was standing up.
Martha stood over the defeated body of her husband. She straddled his deep, manly chest, hands on shapely female hips, her small, perfectly formed breasts straining against the fabric of her black leotard as they swelled with feminine pride at her momentous victory. And Mike saw her. Through his tears and swollen eyes, he looked up at the beautiful girl in leotard who stood in triumph over him and his cock rose in tribute to her beauty and her victory.
The young women in the audience gasped and giggled as they watched Mike's thick, eight inch cock swell into a massive erection as he lay under the feet of his female conqueror.
Martha realised what was happening and stepped back from the man's body. "Get up!" she ordered.
Slowly, every movement causing him pain, Mike pulled himself to his feet. "Feet astride, hands on head!" barked his wife, and Mike knew what was coming.
He wanted to resist, to hurl himself at the chit of a girl who was humiliating him in front of her friends, to beat her to the ground with his mighty fists and establish his male supremacy. But his will had gone. The girl had smashed all the spirit out of him. A beaten man, he did as the woman commanded.
Disgust welled up in Martha's breasts as she watched her mighty husband's willpower crumble before her own. 'No one should just stand there and get beaten without putting up a fight,' she thought, 'especially a man before a girl. What a despicable coward lies under all that mass of male muscle. He's too scared to try to stand up to me any more!'
Boldly the girl turned her back on the man who's will she had destroyed, knowing that he was totally cowed and would not even think about attacking her now. She held her arms up in triumph for the girls to cheer - a victorious woman who had smashed a mighty man to defeat and subjugated him to her will.
Then, turning back to her trembling male victim, she looked up into the battered, tear stained face of her once respected husband, held him by the bulging muscles of his biceps and disdainfully smashed her knee into the terrified man's dangling balls.
Triumphantly, Martha climbed from the ring into her lesbian lover's welcoming arms, while her husband writhed in agony, crying into the canvas.