Helga The Wildcat A Story by A-Man Futuristic match in a battle of the sexes Box-A-Thon In the year 2198, the world is still as wild and crazy as ever, for outrageous fighting sports. Only now these events had degenerated into a scene of blood filled fanatical spectacles. The greatest heroes for this legion of blood thirsty masses were the boxing gladiators; fighters who literally destroyed each other in the ring for the highest honor, the championship belt of the Box-A-Thon. The champion was the symbol of a new age of male virility, showcased with this title belt. Dating back in time to ancient civilizations, cultures such as the Egyptians believed the world began and was spawned and ruled by the power of the male penis. Paying tribute to these ancient civilizations, todayås gold studded title belt, has been capped off with an 18 inch gold dildo. The male who wore this strap-on title belt was therefore hailed as the greatest athlete on this planet. There were two separate divisions, the male and female, which might be compared to the major league and minor league sports in stature. Only twice in the previous thirty years of the Box-A-Thon, had a woman been granted the honor of meeting a male champion in this ring. Each time she was horribly mutilated and finally defiled with the gold title belt for a final total humiliation. Tonight will mark the third historic attempt by a female to dethrone the male champion. These fights usually last no more than six, four minute rounds, due to the frantic and intense pace of the fight. Each fighter wears a glove with virtually no padding, something akin to a black racing glove. This allows the force of each punch to land with maximum damage, braking bones, snapping cartilidge and creating a gore-fest for the blood thirsty mob. Although the loser is usually beaten to a bloody pulp, the expert medical technology of the day will allow more than fifty percent of the fighters to return to the ring within a year. There is no referee in these matches, as that would interfere with the action. There were usually two or three preliminary fights on the monthly card, as was the case tonight. As they carted off the last bloodied loser, the crowd anxiously awaited their current hero, Duncan The Demon Destroyer! The crowd rose in unison at the sight of the male champion. He paraded down the aisle, proudly donning his title belt, rubbing the gold dildo for good luck, something he has been doing for five years now. Duncan has a record of 91 wins and no losses. He also had the honor of facing the last female to be granted a shot at the major league level of title competition. He fought the incredible female champion Mae-Zing. She was powerful japanese fighter, thought to have a real chance against The Destroyer. He demolished her, virtually mopping the ring with her and finally thoroughly humiliated her, by impaling her with his title belt. The fight was so one-sided, it has taken a full five years, for another female to be deemed worthy of an opportunity to meet a male at this level of competition. Duncan The Destroyer stands six foot three, weighing in at 235 lb. He is dark haired, bearded, fierce looking creature. He is the unsinkable male icon, the perfect symbol of masculine virility. If anything, he possibly has too much muscle. His heavily oiled body leaps over the ropes. He takes off his title belt and holds it aloft, continually stroking it. Now he dons his black gloves. Standing ready in his animal skinned, caveman loin cloth, he poses for the eager crowd. They react with wild cheers for the champion. He has promised to impale this young bitch, when he is finished beating her senseless. And now......screams the announcer .... comes his opponent. She is called the bizarre one, the unpredictable one, the one and only kooky and kinky female from the German Federation, the current female champion, Lightening Helga the Wildcat! Helga had a reputation in the female boxing world as a colorful and totally weird character and tonight was certainly not to be any exception. She strutted down the aisle with a broad confident smile and jumped into the ring. Beyond this strange facade was a strikingly beautiful woman. Helga had a record of 54 wins and no defeats in the female division. She was so good, there were no more female opponents willing to step into the ring with her. Thus, she was granted this opportunity to be the next sacrifice for The Destroyer. Helga stands 5'11" weighing in at 170 lb. Her bizarre look for tonight features her deep blue piercing eyes being offset by the large brushstrokes of black mascara painted around her eyes. Her lush, deep red lips and short spiked blonde haircut, gave her the appearance as some kind of live surreal painting. If that were not enough, her spectacular 38 inch chest was not only bare, but she had painted large black circles around them, so they would appear as targets for her opponent. To top off her ensemble she wore only black fishnet pantyhose... devoid of any underwear. This allowed her pubic hair to reach for freedom through the confines of the netting; for an inviting glance from the champ. Above all of these assets was the fact that Helga knew No Fear! She was supremely confident in her ability and she knew she possessed the fastest hands in the galaxy. The gladiators stood ready for the fight to begin. The entire arena rose to their feet as the signal came and they advanced to the center of the ring. Now, in all previous fights, punches are thrown, bones are broken and eventually only one man is left standing. Today may not be the usual contest. The Demon throws his first punch... it misses! Another punch... he misses again. A third , fourth and fifth bare the same result. His usual assortment of leather hits nothing but... air! Incredibly Helga escapes, and dances away like a female phantom. She feints, darts, bobs and weaves with reactions so fast, it seems she almost knows his every move before he does. She is so elusive, itås like trying to hit your own shadow. He is also captivated by the sight of her swinging targets and their hypnotic spinning motion. The result, he can only connect with their breeze as he watches them twirling while they pass. The Wildcat does not mount any offense yet, as she is content to frustrate her adversary with her quickness and cat-like agility. For three rounds, the crowd is treated to the champion swinging and missing at this she-devil female tormentor. Usually by now his opponent is bloodied and crawling to a corner, but today he has not laid a glove on her. By the end of the third round the champion knew, this would not be as easy as he thought. The crowd was confused by the tactics of this fight. Was this what they came to see? This was nothing more than dancing. Where was the blood? The Destroyer was growing angrier and more frustrated by the minute. Now only thought raced through his head, how he would enjoy defiling her with his Virility Belt when he is finished with her! As the fourth round got under way it was apparent the crowd was confused and becoming bored as they remained quiet, and almost disinterested. The male champion is still throwing his usual assortment of leather, but this phantom female seemingly will not allow him to touch her. The bout continued on like this through the fourth and fifth rounds. The female was just too quick to be hit. The champ sensing that she as offering no offense of her own, realized he was in no danger of being hit and began to get slightly careless. In the seventh round, the Wildcat finally began her own assault. As the Destroyer continued with his heavy artillery punches toward his female opponent, she began to offer up the counter-punch. As she slipped away from his club-like hammer blows, she began to catch him on his follow thru. He was only off in his timing now by about 1 second but that was all the Wildcat needed. Little red welts began to appear on the Destroyerås magnificent body, which would not be enough to hurt him, but surely embarrass him. The more times, he was hit, the madder he became. Helga loved it! She giggled like a school girl as she danced away from his boorish attack. The spunky, spiky haired blonde with her target painted tits, spinning wildly presented quite a bizarre scene in the arena. In the eighth round the Champ continued to launch more and more wild and desperate punches towards his adversary. Helga began to taunt him, in addition to her giddy laughter. The crazed male Destroyer finally flipped out and blindly charged her, like a wild bull, throwing all caution to the wind. Of course she side-stepped him and he rammed into the turnbuckle. It was here, the Destroyer met his waterloo. Before he could turn and face the Wildcat, she charged and began her attack. Two, three, four and five sledge-hammer shots deep into his kidneys froze the champion in his tracks. Holding his breath from the pain, he slowly turned to face his challenger. His face was contorted in agony with blood dripping from his mouth from the internal damage inflicted by Helga. For the first time in the fight the mob rose to their feet sensing this was to be the defining moment of the fight. One and a half minutes remained in the eighth round which was more than enough time for a Wildcat to dispose of her cornered and wounded prey. Helga giggled waving her gloves overhead in large circular motions; this was the signal in her female matches that she was ready for the kill. She moved in on the Destroyer. She launched a furious, vicious, and utterly savage barrage of crunching body shots. The champ vainly tried to hold his own, but Helga was far too quick. The pain of the kidney shots he took, had clearly taken a toll on his ability to fight and the Wildcat was taking full advantage.There was no mercy in her eyes! In the span of one minute her well-placed lethal, atomic shots inflicted severe damage to the mighty male champion. Her first punches hit chiseled muscle tone and bone of this man seemingly, indestructible man of iron. However, under her brutal assault, his body began to literally, cave in. Her blows broke thru his muscled chest, the sounds of bones crunching brought the mob to their feet again and again. She began to cut thru his greek god-like physique as if it were butter. It was almost pitiful to see this once proud champion being cut to ribbons. The Wildcat spared his eyes from her furious assault as she wanted him to get a full- view of the damage she was inflicting, and she wanted him always to see just who was beating the hell out of him. Finally the massacre was over as Helga danced away with her arms swinging in the air and her breasts again swinging wild and free. She watched the male champion gamely try to reach his corner. He staggered very gingerly... one step, then another, and still one more. Helga laughingly inquired, hey big I bet you're gonna fall for me, right? His totally wrecked body could no longer respond. He sank to his knees and was only stopped from falling to the canvas by reaching out and grabbing the sensual fishnet covered leg of the female gladiator. It was an ironic picture to see the male icon on his knees seemingly begging for mercy from his Amazon conqueror. She looked down at him without the slightest hint of sympathy in her icy blue eyes. She cocked her right arm and unleashed a crushing fist to the side of his head. The blow literally split his ear in two and turned it into a gory mis-shapened bloody mess. He collapsed in a heap at her feet. Helga graciously waited a full five minutes before finally accepting the title belt. She kicked him a few times just to make sure there was no more fight in her opponent. This would be the first time in history that a female had worn this Virility Belt. It had always been the mark of the ultimate male power. She proudly paraded around the ring with her gold belt and male scepter, all the while sensually stoking in a provocative manner it to delight of the crowd. Remembering the former championås promise to impale her on his belt when he defeated her, she decided to instead make him the receiver of this humiliation. She casually strode over to the former champ and savagely yanked him by the hair. Helga literally dragged him to the side of the ring. She lifted the dead weight of the former champ, propping his head and arms limply over the top rope. His knees hung against the third rope and the poor ape just hung there, oblivious to his predicament. The crowd sensed what was coming and went absolutely crazy, cheering, Helga!, Helga! She strutted in her most seductive style and now stood directly behind the former champ. She took off her leather gloves which revealed 3 inch razor sharp purple polished nails to her, now adoring public. She whispered in The Destroyer's ear, "I hope you're ready to play some more big boy". She took her nails and dug them as deep as they would go into his shoulder blades, drawing ten lines of blood down his back. This was enough to wake him up, although just barely. Then with all the force Helga could muster, she thrust forward like a tornado in the unsuspecting male's rear. It seemed the pitiful ex-champ would literally jump out of his skin. His eyes almost certainly flew out of their sockets. The unearthly shriek from his lungs was heard over the entire arena. He felt like he had died and went to hell. Over and over the femdom Helga thrust away, stealing the last vestige of dignity from the male. Finally, when she withdrew her saber for the last time, the defiled exchamp collapsed backwards on to the canvas. Helga giggled noticing that after the hellacious beating she had given him, he still was able to maintain a slight erection. She, then motioned for the medical team, to come in and take the battered foe away. to herself she thought, he amuses me, I may let him serve me and become my bitch when he is healed. Now her only thoughts were savoring this moment of this great Box-A-Thon victory in the area for the bizarre German Wildcat.