Crossfit Katie 
by Mr.Purple357@gmail.com
Chapter 2


(Authors note - As before, remember that if Katie insults you, it's her
opinion, not mine - Mr. Purple.)

As I do most Friday's, I went to the Dojo right off campus where I pick up
some extra cash teaching classes. The Dojo Master starred in a number of
cheesy Asian action flicks back in the 70's and 80's and is well respected in
the MMA world. So quite often we get guest instructors who visit and train
with us for a few days. Today, we had a 6th degree black belt from Korea, Pak
Jong-in, helping out.

Pak looked to be in his late twenties. A hair shorter than me, he was short
for my tastes, but he had a dark, sexy face and a strong, agile body. Since it
wasn't a school night, I thought it might be nice to spend a fun night with
him. During a break, I asked him if he'd like a match with me after classes
were over. He agreed but smirked, that might have tipped me off, but I'm used
to teaching men not to underestimate me so I ignored it.

I often lock up for the owner on Fridays, so we were the last ones there. We
agreed on Taekwondo rules but instead of three 2 minute rounds, we'd go a
straight ten minutes with standard scoring.

He was a bit heavier than me but I had a height and reach edge, it should be a
fair match. He came in quick, I blocked a side kick, faked a spear hand
strike, then threw a front kick. He sidestepped and landed a back kick to my
side. "Nice," I said, "1-0 you."

We circled, each missing a couple of kicks, and I dodged a hammer fist. He
landed a roundhouse kick just above my waist. "2-nothing you," I said.

"No, 3-0. Spinning kick to the body is 2 points," he replied.

"That was a roundhouse," I said.

"No spinning."

I rolled my eyes. "Fine, 3-0 you." He started to throw a straight kick, but
I'd caught his timing and landed an axe kick to the side of his head. "3 all,"
I said. He grimaced at me but nodded. He got fancy with a jump kick but I
sidestepped and landed my own back kick to his chest. "4-3 me," I said.

He made a low growl. We circled and threw a couple of blocks, then I landed a
roundhouse kick to his head. "7-3, me." He launched an actual spinning kick
that I blocked with my upper arm.

"7-5 you," he said. He'd clearly not landed on my body, but I just said fine
in an annoyed tone. I understand being ultra competitive and arguing a close
call in a match, but this was supposed to be a fun, pre-sex workout. It didn't
do him any good though, I was quicker, more agile, and had a reach advantage.
I slowly built up a bigger and bigger lead. When the timer rang, "22-12, me.
Good match," I said, bowing. I was about to suggest a quick meal then back to
his hotel room.

He ignored my bow and stalked off to the corner. He ripped off his head gear,
chest protector, and gloves. He screamed something in Korean, then said, "Take
off stupid gear. Fight me MMA style. No woman beat me in real fight." He
stepped towards me, fist clenched, face enraged.

Oh, poo, I thought, he's a misogynistic asshole. I wasn't afraid to fight him
without gear, but I'm far too beautiful to risk a broken nose over some jerk's
bruised male ego. "Hard pass," I said walking around him. I began to pack my
own gear into my gym bag when something whizzed a half inch from my head and
slammed into the bag.

Pak pulled back one of Sensei's bamboo swords and waved it in front of my
face. "You fight me or I beat you into the floor with this." He feinted at me
with it.

I slid back, hands raised. "Are you off your meds or something? I asked. He
advanced towards me waving the sword. If I was quick and lucky, I could dodge
and get inside and take the thing from him, but he was fast enough that I
didn't like my odds. Fighting him unarmed would be much smarter. "Fine," I
said. I tossed off my remaining gear and raised my fists. "Drop the sword and
lets do it, anything goes. Unless you think you need that thing to beat me," I
taunted him.

"Bah." He tossed the sword aside then he peeled off his gi. He went into that
famous Bruce Lee pose, the one where his fists are near his waist and every
muscle is tensed.

I decided two could play that game. I tossed off my own gi and struck the same
pose. My pecs pushed my big breasts hard against my sports bra, my eight pack
rippled, and every muscle in my arms stood out. His arms might have been a
little bigger, but they didn't look as hard, and compared to mine, his abs
were soft as Charmin. He looked at me with lust and maybe a little fear. I ran
my index finger between my breasts down to my crotch. "Just think, you could
have been riding this all night long if you weren't such an enormous
dickhead."

His face turned read and he snarled in rage. "Maybe I still will once I show
you your place." He charged toward me and leapt into a flying side kick. I'd
guessed he might try some showboating move so I went into a modified Jean
Claude Van Damme, drop into a split and punch up. I normally don't like
hitting a guy in the balls, but Pak was dangerous, so if I could, I'd rather
take him down fast.

Unfortunately, my punch landed in his rear, but it threw him off so he landed
in a heap. Still, he was up by the time I cartwheeled back to my feet. He came
in more serious this time, throwing punches and sidekicks. I blocked the ones
to my face and sides hoping he'd go for the most tempting target. Sure enough,
he threw a hook to my left tit. Maybe he thought I had implants and that he'd
burst it. If you've been reading this though, you know I don't, so while it
hurt like hell, it was worth it because it left him wide open for me to smash
a straight right into his left eye.

His head snapped back and I followed with a kick right into the stomach that
sent him sprawling to the floor. "Stay down," I warned him, "It's pretty clear
you're no match for me."

He kipped up to his feet. "I am going to beat your face in," he screamed. I
blew him a kiss and waved him forward. His left eye was already swelling up
nicely so I circled to my right. He leapt in, grabbed my waist and tried to
wrestle me to the ground. I wrestled in high school so my ground game is
almost as good as my stand up, but on my feet I had a clear speed and reach
advantage so I fought to keep him from throwing me. I quickly moved backward
and rammed my elbow into the side of his head. He had to let me go to keep
from falling.

Someone less angry would have set himself up and reset, but he tried to go
straight into a roundhouse kick. It left him completely open. I hopped in,
wrapped my right arm around his thigh and pulled in on it, which gave my left
forearm a ton of force behind it as I slammed it into his nose. I felt it
squish inward. His head flew back and I used his still trapped leg to drive
him hard onto the mat. I dropped my knee into his gut.

His nose was dripping blood and he gasped in pain. "Ok, we're done here," I
said, "get the hell out and don't come back." I then did something really
stupid. I walked away.

He slammed into my back. I managed to keep my feet but he grabbed my right
arm, spun me around, and started slamming his right fist into my stomach. I
won't lie to you, it really hurt, but like I keep telling you, my abs are
really strong, so while I won't lie to you, I certainly lied to him. I forced
myself up straight and said, "You hit like a girl and when I say a girl, I
mean the preschool kind, not me." I slapped my eight pack. "C'mon, try
harder."

He reared his hand back for a huge punch. The nice thing about knowing where
your opponent is going to attack is it gives you all the advantages. As his
fist came in, I broke my right arm free, grabbed his wrist with both hands,
and pulled him towards me so I could use his own strength to help me drive my
right knee into his chest. I heard successive cracks as I busted two of his
ribs.

"Ahh, ahh," he moaned, stumbling back. I wanted to end this. I was going to
make sure he was done. Time for my own fancy footwork. I launched into my own
flying sidekick. The plan was to plant my foot squarely in his face and knock
him out. Unfortunately, maniac that he was, he chose just that moment to
charge me again. So our combined weight met where the heel of my foot
connected with his jaw. My foot was fine, his jaw broke with a loud snap.

He toppled to the floor. I figured that had to be it, right. No, he leapt up,
ran over to the bamboo sword and charged at me with it. I sidestepped his
downstrike and leapt back on his upstrike. It wasn't too hard, he'd slowed
down a lot. His left eye being now entirely shut, I moved to his right. He
slashed near blindly with the thing. I bent all the way back until my left
hand touched the floor behind me. As soon as the sword swished over me, I
pushed back up, grabbed the sword with my right hand and slammed my left elbow
down with all my weight onto his forearm.

His arm broke at the elbow. He screamed. I winced, I hadn't intended to do
that. (No, really, I'm not being snarky here. I didn't mean to bust his arm.).
He fell to the floor and writhed in agony, his arm flopping at a weird angle.
He started yelling in Korean. I have no idea what he said but I'm sure he
called me every name in the book.

I looked down at him, snapped arm, busted nose, cracked ribs, black eye,
broken jaw. And he'd been so handsome, what a waste. Gets on soap box - this
is what happens when you let hate, anger, and jealousy take you over - gets
off soap box.

He started to try and push himself back up with his one good arm. "I will get
you, I will get you." I rolled my eyes, he was like the stupid Black Knight in
that Monty Python movie dad likes so much. I kicked his arm out from under
him. He plopped back to the mat.

I placed my foot on his forehead and pushed it flat. I wiggled my toes over
his eyes. As he looked up at me, I flexed my right arm so if his broken body
hadn't already told him, he could see just how much more powerful I was than
him. "Look," I said sweetly, "if you keep coming at me, I'm going to have to
break your legs next. Now, do you really want me to do that?"

Tears started flowing down his face. He shook his head. "No, I stop, please,
don't hurt me anymore." I nodded, then I looked down at his groin. In spite of
his pain, his penis was pushing up against his pants. I'm used to men getting
hardons around me but for someone to get one in his state was a pretty nice
tribute to me.

I stepped to his side and placed my foot just above it. "Good thing I didn't
sleep with you, this little thing wouldn't have given me any satisfaction," I
said. It was less than half the size and width of dear old dad's.

"No, no, please, don't," he begged. I was surprised but then realized he
thought I was going to stomp on it.

"Chill out, I won't kick a helpless man in the dick." No, I was trying to
decide something else. I have a policy against giving jerks the awesome thrill
of a Katie Miller Induced Orgasm (™), but on the other hand, the humiliation
of being made to cum by the touch of a single one of my pretty toes would
stick with him long after his body healed. (I know all of you reading this
would happily take the humiliation in exchange for me giving you a toe job,
but this guy actually had some pride).

I decided he'd had enough and pulled my foot away. As I did though, he moaned
even louder and his pants grew wet as he fired his first shot. His second
actually penetrated thru the fabric to rise several inches into the air. By
the time he finished, there was a decent puddle of cum covering the front of
his pants.

"Geeze, Katie, not again." I turned to see the Dojo Master walk in. I bowed as
he came over. "Oh, my this is far, far worse than anything before."

I explained what had happened. "I'm sorry, Sensei. I don't want to cause you
any trouble. I'll quit and take full responsibility."

The old man stared at me with annoyance. "Did he hit you in the head, Katie?
You're more popular than all my other instructors combined. No, you will go
home. I will make sure this man gets medical attention and that nothing
attaches to you. I will then have words with both the Federation and his home
dojo. It is unacceptable that a man such as this would be allowed to come
here."

I bowed again. "Thank you, Sensei, I appreciate it." I gathered my stuff and
headed for the door.

Before I left, Sensei asked, "Before you arranged this match, did you talk
with this man first?"

I shook my head. "No, Sensei."

"Perhaps there is lesson for you in that," he replied. I left, now feeling
guilty as well as horny. I wondered if I could track down that football player
who'd been eyeing my butt at the gym earlier.

Next time - It's the Crossfit Games, plus I have to deal with some mean girls.