One Step Behind by Ringer Marion loses everything to a young, blonde boxing predator Marion had worked too hard to let it all go down the drain. She had gotten the agency some of its best accounts over the last 15 years, and she wasn't about to let some "fresh of the street" bitch take it away from her! When Jordan first arrived two years ago from California it looked like Marion had gotten the assistant of a lifetime. For the first few months Jordan was amazing, taking the minor clients off of her hands, covering for Marion with the senior partners. Jordan seemed like she'd be the perfect associate. At only 24 years old, Jordan was tall (5' 9"), blonde, beautiful, energetic, and fit. The partners at the agency loved her, and Jordan knew just how to get what she wanted from them. In retrospect Marion realized that she had unwittingly given Jordan everything she needed to become a first-class rival. After six months Jordan was pitching ideas to the partners over Marion's head. Then the partners started giving Jordan assignments directly, sometimes without telling Marion first. Lately, though she couldn't prove it, Marion was sure that Jordan was sabotaging her work, making her look bad to the rest of the agency. No matter what Marion she did, and how many strings she pulled, she always seemed to be a step behind of Jordan. Marion's work wasn't the only thing that was suffering. Her preoccupation with defending her job left her little time for her boyfriend Carl. When she finally turned to him for support, she found him oddly distant. After pressing him, Carl told her that he had found someone who had time for him and understood his needs. "I think you know her. Her name is Jordan." Marion's worst fears were realized when, the next day, the partners told her they were thinking of taking most of her accounts, accounts she had managed for years, and giving them to Jordan. They said Marion had "lost her edge", and that they thought the accounts "needed someone fresh, with new energy." That was it! Marion called Jordan into her office and laid down the challenge. "One of us has got to go!" Jordan said "I hear you're a boxer. How 'bout we settle this like real women? We'll put on the gloves and go as many rounds as it takes for one of us to get KOed or quit." In her rage Marion accepted. "I know one of the trainers at the Jones Street Gym.", said Marion, "I'm sure that I can get Janet to arrange a private fight for us after hours." "Yah, I know that place. Then it's set. We'll find out who's the better woman once and for all", Jordan responded. Once Jordan left the room, Marion started to think about how great it would be to pound the little tramp into mulch. So what, if Jordan was taller and 13 years her junior, Marion outweighed her by at least 15 pounds. Marion was in good shape, and used to box regularly before she became a senior associate five years ago. Anyway, she still stayed in shape with aerobics and weight training. The night of the fight arrived. As Marion got to the gym she discovered that Jordan had upstaged her again. The parking lot was full! Marion was met at the door by one of the agency's partners. Just about everyone from the agency was there, along with people she didn't recognize who must have been Jordan's friends. They were clearly eager to watch the confrontation. Up in the ring was Jordan, already fit with black 8 oz. boxing gloves, wearing a black satin robe, black boxing boots, and of all things, a black cowboy hat. Her skin shone with perspiration from having already warmed up, and she was chit-chatting with the owner of the gym! "What the hell is going on here?", thought Marion, "Is there any big-shot in town that this bitch doesn't know?" Worst of all, there was Carl, sitting near Jordan's corner. "Hey Marion, I'm glad you didn't chicken out." called Jordan, "I'm all dolled up in my Stetson ready to do a some cow punchin'! So get to the dressing room, Elsie, 'cause these people came to see a good beating, and I intend to show them one." "This was supposed to be a private fight." thought Marion. She wanted to protest, but she knew that the people wouldn't leave, and if she refused to fight she would never live it down. "Where's Janet?" Marion asked the gym owner. "I don't know, is she supposed to be here?" he replied with a smirk. "Yes, she was supposed to be my corner" said Marion. One of the other gym employees volunteered to fill in. Then Marion went to the locker room to change. She came out in a white jogbra, low-waisted boxing shorts cut high on the sides, 8 oz. red boxing gloves, and boxing shoes. Marion entered the ring and the female Referee called them to the middle for instructions. Jordon swaggered to the center of the ring, ready to push more of Marion's "buttons". "That's a cute outfit you've got on, honey, but when I want to settle a score, I put it all on the line." As she spoke she loosed the tie on her robe and let it slide sensuously to her feet. Other than black gloves and boots, she wore nothing but a tiny black thong panty. Her perky 36C breasts didn't seem to have any trouble supporting themselves. Only a few square inches of her sleek, tightly muscled physique were left to the imagination! "You bitch! We agreed this would be a private fight!" Marion blurted out. "Get real honey," said Jordan, "everyone knew this was coming. So you gonna put your cards on the table, or have you got something to hide under there. You're not backing down are you?" Marion asked her corner to remove her 40D bra. "Ooooh, that's quite a couple of targets you've got there Elsie." sneered Jordan "You can leave those little briefs on if you want. I don't want anyone to say I beat you with low blows. OK Ref., let's get on with it. Elsie, here needs a facial!" The Referee signals for the fight to begin. ROUND 1 DING! DING! Marion comes out full-steam, taking the fight to Jordan and trying to hurt her early. Jordan has other plans. She bobs, weaves, and moves around the ring to establish her leg superiority. She glides around Marion, snapping out the jab at an odd rhythm. Marion, trying to get close enough to do some real damage, is tagged repeatedly. Jab.... JAB-JAB! CROSS! Marion's face and head are snapped back, and to the side, as she tries to lean out of the way. Marion swings in response, but Jordon's never there. Moving left, then changing direction, Jordon is in constant motion, stopping only long enough to score a few more direct hits. "Come on Elsie, I'm over here," Jordon chides as she changes direction again. "Gotta keep up" Bam-Bam! Marion's head gets smacked BAM! BAM! Marion's ribs then face, take abuse. All round Marion is either chasing Jordon, or walking straight into perfectly timed 3, 4 and 5 punch combinations. DING! DING! Over the cheers of the crowd, Jordon says, "I'm just getting warmed up, Elsie. If this is the best you've got, you're in big trouble!" Marion is dazed and sweating. She plods back to her corner, falls onto her stool and tries to regroup. Her face is red and starting to get puffy, and there's a small cut over her left eye. In contrast, Jordon bounces back to her corner and accepts the cheers of the crowd. She stands between round, leaning into the cornerpad, arms stretched along each rope, deadly serious stare never leaving Marion. ROUND 2 DING! DING! Jordan's reach, timing, and legs make Marion an easy target. Jordan circles, snapping out jabs that continue to catch Marion flat footed. Marion can never seem to close with Jordon, and continues to walk into straight right hands to the face. Jordon's hooks and jabs make a mess out of Marion's face this round, starting her nose bleeding, and beginning to close Marion's right eye. In the final minute of the round, Jordan switches to Marion's body. With Marion's guard high to protect her now tender face, Jordon goes after Marion's flanks and huge breasts with looping underhand and side armed punches. Jordon turns her hips into crunching blows that jerk Marion's body left and right, and back her into the ropes. Marion's attempts at offense are punished severely by punches that smash her breasts into her chest or test her not-so-solid abdomen. DING! "When I'm through with you even you mama won't recognize you!", spat Jordon. Marion returns to her corner with blood on her mouth, cheek, and breasts. Her right eye is almost closed, and there are red welts rising on her waist and breasts. Marion's corner does her best to clean her up and applies cold compresses to bring the swelling down. Jordan struts back to her corner, her gloves raised in triumph. The crowd is completely behind her. ROUND 3 DING! Jordan comes out showing no respect for Marion at all. The crowd is treated to more one-sided offense as Jordon jackhammers Marion into a slack-jawed daze. Jordan's constant movement, and ability to pop jabs and hooks at will has turned this fight into a beating. Even when Jordan moves inside to slug, Marion seems not to have a response. She just gets more and more beat up. In the last minute, Jordan stops to berate Marion for not showing her anything, when out of nowhere Marion's right crashes into Jordan's jaw. Jordan's head twists around at a terrible angle, and suddenly it's starting to look like a fight! Jordan instinctively covers up and falls back to the ropes with Marion. Marion puts everything she has into uppercuts to Jordan's lean abdomen, and ribs, and hooks that are mostly caught on Jordan's arms and gloves. Jordan is hurt, but lets the ropes absorb much of the force of Marion's blows. DING! DING! Jordan has survived. Marion is tired and discouraged. "I'll have to give you one thing, Elsie," said Jordan, "you can take it. Too bad you can't dish it out." After just three rounds Marion's right eye is closed, and there's a large bruise under her left eye. Marion's brunette hair is matted to her head, and she's bleeding again from the nose. Before the beginning of round 4, Jordon climbs the ropes in her corner, WWF style, and roars to the crowd, gloved fists raised in triumph. "You want to see some real cow punchin'?" she yells to the crowd. They yell back their encouragement! DING! ROUND 4 Jordan jumps down from the ropes and turns to face her adversary. Even while she's in complete control of the fight, Jordan's intensity never wanes. Her stare is almost as frightening as her fists. Jordon uses Marion as a living punch dummy. Marion presses forward and tries to make a fight of it, but she's just too slow and too beat up. Jordan's jabs smack Marion's face at will with sickening force. Jordan, aware that Marion is unable to see the incoming, begins to abuse her with more and more outrageous combinations. "I've worked hard enough," Jordan thinks, "it's time for a little 'fun'." LEFT HOOK! to the jaw brings Marion's gloves to her face. Looping RIGHT UPPERCUT! underneath Marion's right breast crushes it up under her right arm. Looping LEFT UPPERCUT! crushes Marion's right breast up under her left arm. Jordan leans away from Marion's lethargic right, then crashes an OVERHAND RIGHT! of her own that smashes Marion's head against her own shoulder. LEFT UPPERCUT! to the stomach folds Marion over partially. Jordan sweeps her entire upper body in a clockwise direction down to the level of Marion's breasts and uncorks a RIGHT UPPERCUT! almost straight up to Marion's left cheek, twisting Marion's head around and straightening her up again. None of these punches is thrown hard enough to knock Marion out. That'll come later. This round Jordan is content to cause as much pain and humiliation as possible. Amazingly, Marion keeps stumbling forward, while taking, and taking, and taking it. Her body shakes with each body blow, her sweat and blood fly with each head shot. The crowd is on their feet screaming for Jordan the entire time. DING! DING! Marion swings, misses, and almost falls. Jordan catches her, turns her around and sends her stumbling back in the direction of her own corner. "Don't worry sweetheart, it'll all be over soon." Marion returns to her corner a broken and bloodied wreck! She can only barely see out of her one eye. The rest of her face looks like a war zone of cuts and bruises. Marion's body shows welts around her waist and abs, and significant damage around her breasts. The trainer, Janet, finally shows up at Marion's corner. As she jumps into the ring to try and clean Marion up for the next round, she says "Marion, that's Jordon Marshall you're fighting." "Yah, you heard of her?" Marion replied through her exhaustion. "Heard of her!?! She was the California Golden Gloved champ three years in a row! What the hell were you thinking, fighting her in a knockout match?" "Now you tell me." Marion says through swollen lips "It's too late to quit now. I can't let the bitch win. With you here, I feel my luck changing already." Before Janet could respond the bell rang for round five. "Oh, Marion!" thought Janet "At least someone will be here to carry you out of the ring." DING! DING! DING! ROUND 5 Jordan dances out of her corner. She shadow boxes her way to the center of the ring to the thunderous sound of her name being chanted by the crowd. "JOR-DAN, JOR-DAN, JOR-DAN!" Marion plods out to meet her, her gloves about shoulder high. Jordan snaps stinging jabs to Marion's unguarded face as she chides her. "So.." (BAM!) "your friend Janet" (SMACK!) "tell you who I am?" (BAM!) With a quick RIGHT HOOK! to the cheek, LEFT HOOK! to the abs, and RIGHT UPPERCUT! to the chin Marion's legs start to buckle. Jordan leans in and catches Marion in a clinch to keep her from falling. "You pathetic loser!", Jordan sneers down at her, "You want to keep your job and your precious boyfriend, you better get to work, 'cause I'm ready to finish you this round." Marion does her best to get back onto her feet and push away from Jordan. Jordan dances to the right to get Marion to turn her back to Jordan's corner. She then unleashes a quick series of jackhammer lefts to the face. Marion can barely see them coming. SMACK!-SMACK!-SMACK!-SMACK!-SMACK!-SMACK! until Marion is close to Jordan's corner. Then BAM!!! a right cross spins Marion half way around and deposits her face first in Jordan's corner. One of Marion's arms is on each side of the cornerpost, while her head lays on top of the cornerpad facing the crowd. Jordan pulls back Marion's head to display her pitifully battered face, while calling to the crowd. "Hey Carl, what do think? This?" then Jordan flexes the biceps of her other arm, "or this?" Carl gives the OK sign to Jordan's biceps curl as the crowd starts up another chorus of "JOR-DAN, JOR-DAN, JOR-DAN!" "Ohhh Marion," Jordan says directly into her face, "Looks like he chose me." Jordan lets go of Marion's head and dances backwards to the middle of the ring again. As she circles her fists menacingly she calls out "Job, boyfriend, self-respect... They're all mine, Marion. I got your whole, pathetic life waitin' right here. Are you woman enough to win them back?" Whether from stubbornness, or just plain stupidity, Marion pushes herself off of the cornerpad, turns around and lumbers toward a smirking Jordan. The words "Goodbye loser." are the last thing Marion will remember of the fight. Jordan fades to right and smashes a HUGE LEFT HOOK! straight into the middle of Marion's undefended face. A quick, looping OVERHAND RIGHT! from almost behind Marion whips into her left cheek. Sweat and blood spray from her face as she falls, crashing face down on the canvas. Her head and body bounce an inch or so off of the ring floor then comes to rest, twitching and unconscious. Jordan is still on her toes, fists cocked, ready to do more damage. She screams at Marion "GET UP! GET UP YOU FUCKING COW, I'M NOT THROUGH WITH YOU!" as the crowd roars its approval of Jordan's performance. Janet jumps through the rope to aid Marion as the Ref. starts to count her out. Jordan raises her gloves in victory and struts around the ring taking in the applause and cheers of the crowd. At "FIVE..." Janet yells up at the Ref. "Stop that shit! This fights over, get the medics and a stretcher... NOW!" The Referee turns and holds Jordan's hand up in victory for a moment, then leaves the ring to get an ambulance. Jordan swings out of the ring, walks over to Carl and straddles his lap. While holding his head in her black boxing gloves, and slowly pumping her pelvis, she says "Poor little Monica wasn't woman enough to hold on to you. You OK with that, Carl?" Jordan says coyly. He didn't need to answer. Jordan could feel Carl's huge hard-on straining against his pants in tribute to the conquering blonde. As time will later tell, Carl is not the last conquest of the ambitious, amazon Jordan!