The Mauler by A-man Missy boxes against The Mauler. Year: 1962 Place: A Small Mid-western town Time: Around 9 PM Saturday Night Yes, tonight would be just another saturday Night slaughter, for this week's boxing championship. The champ, has already arrived in the ring, eager to get underway. He stood 6'4" and weighed in at the meanest 265lb. there was in the state. He had beaten all comers, one each week for two years running. Let me correct that, he destroyed his opponents, taking pride in how much blood he drew, or bones that he broke. The list went on and on, broken ribs, shattered noses, detached retinas, damaged kidneys; he could fill a hospital ward with his triumphs. He was appropriately called "the Mauler". He showed no mercy and expected to be shown none, should he fall. He was just as brutal outside the ring as inside, enjoying a street brawl or physically abusing his female lovers. He would brutalize them in the same manner to whet his perverted sexual appetite. No one ever had the courage to have him charged with a crime. He always claimed, either the woman was lying, it was just rough or consenting sex , and it was nobody else's business. There was never an indictment and no one would be fool enough to testify against him. Why these women pursued this thug was beyond reason. maybe it was his celebrity status, his money, or maybe they were masochists, possibly finding this boorish neanderthal attractive. Now, he was just anticipating the business at hand, tonight's championship bout. At this very moment he was waiting impatiently in the ring. The Mauler kept himself busy throwing punches into the air, although, he was clearly agitated by the delay. He wore his usual ring attire, black robe and black trunks, proudly donning his title belt, looking to add another notch from this week's victim. His menacing appearance struck fear in the heart's of most opponents before the match even started. Fifteen minutes later, finally the smoke-filled gym parted for the challenger. It was almost impossible to get a clear view of this person, although the champ didn't really care, he just wanted to get started. He was already planning on ways to make the challenger pay for the delay. Shoulder length auburn, hair in a heavy thick, red hooded robe, was all he could make out. Did it matter, what his opponent looked like now anyway? By the time the bout was over, he would surely rearrange their features. The challenger kept his back to the champ as he got into the ring, looking out into the largely receptive crowd. A collective gasp came from the crowd as the challenger removed the red robe. A firm back, yet not overly muscular, that was what the champ saw first. The challenger slowly turned to face the Mauler. It was no "he" at all. Two very large 38" breasts and a very feminine face left the Mauler stunned and positively fuming. Reacting predictably, he said, "I ain't fightin' no broad". "Is this some kind of joke?" His opponent, a 5'10" 190 lb. beauty, asked if he was, possibly afraid. She stood with a devilish grin, hands on hips, in her red everlast trunks with a white stripe and red gloves enjoying his reaction. She was well-toned and solid, but certainly could not compare to his body, a rippling mass of bronzed muscular flesh. She was all feminine, he was chiseled granite. She said I'm game if you are "champ". You never seem to have any trouble beating up girls in the privacy of a hotel room, are you afraid to do it here in public. The crowd cheered her fiery, spunky attitude which forced the Mauler's hand. Let's see the kind of man you are, she said with her glove pointing right in his face. The Mauler replied, it's your funeral bitch, let's do it. The rules for this fight were just like every other Saturday nite, the referee's main purpose was merely to count out an opponent and interfere as little as possible, because the fight usually continues until the victor decides its over. There was a doctor at ringside to prevent mortal injuries and a cut- man to keep the fight going as long as possible. There were three minute rounds with a two minute breaks. The obvious difference in this fight was that The Mauler will have the opportunity to "take apart" a female opponent in public, which may afford a more entertaining evening. The Mauler pondered his new strategy, where should he hit her first? Each fighter glared at each other and prepared for war. The female opponent gave no indication of any fear. The challenger was named melissa or Missy, as she was called. It had been her sister that had been most recently brutalized and beaten, to within an inch of her life, by The Mauler. Missy was now ready to even the score. She wanted to make certain there would be no more victims, male or female, at the hands of this monster. Her sister watched from the first row to see once again the devil that had nearly crippled her. Missy was an undefeated amateur who until the attack on her sister was ready to give-up boxing and pursue other athletic endeavors. There was no opportunity for a female boxer, so most of Missy's experience came in sparring sessions. However, tonight she was on a mission. Not one soul in the crowd, no matter how much they were pulling for an upset, thought this bout would last more than two rounds. Round 1: Each fighter moved to the center of the ring. Missy was extremely cautious, as she knew one mistake would spell disaster. Her chest was heaving with the excitement of the moment and her clearly erect nipples caught the attention of the champ. His trunks appeared larger in the groinal region than usual, which delighted his opponent. She knew that if he was distracted by her, it could only work in her favor. The Mauler laughingly approached his opponent, attempting to make light of this whole bout. She easily ducked his boorish punches and connected on his jaw, which embarrassed him more than hurt. After a few more playful antics with the same result the Mauler became agitated. OK girlie, he shouted, now I'm gonna' make you suffer, and make you sorry, just like any one else who enters "my" ring. With that came the on-slaught, he advanced, she retreated; he would punch, she would try and avoid it or deflect its force. She threw jabs whenever she had the opportunity to slow him down. Missy was faster, she had to be, or she would be dead by now. The entire first round Missy was back-pedaling and moving to avoid the champ and plot her own strategy. Her shoulders were sore from deflecting body blows. He was just coming and coming like a machine. By the end of one round, he had thrown 20 punches for every one of hers. At that pace the only question was, would she wear down, before he would punch himself out. "The Mauler" won the first round. Round 2: Anytime you want to quit is okay, honey, she was told. He was getting heated up now, enjoying her large 38's wave and weave with the motion of her body. He never had the sporting opportunity to hit a woman in the chest before, this might be fun. The Mauler decided to make this a game. He now saw her ample golden breasts as two large targets, with her erect nipples as the direct hit point for the highest score. He advanced with an attack at her head. She weaved and bobbed, up and down, always back pedaling. She miscalculated his intention as he faked a head shot and she instinctively covered, instead he delivered a solid punch into her marvelous targets. His fist disappeared into her fleshy breast and she stopped in her tracks. momentarily Missy saw stars. He could have literally knocked her head off then, but that is not his style. He likes the pain and suffering to last and this was only the beginning. He savored the look of agony on her face from the blow he landed. The mauler was excited by his game and launched several additional shots at her targets and giving each punch a score. This is just like a pin-ball game, wham...one breast flies up, wham... one goes side-ways! Again and again he hammered her breasts as she backed into the ropes. She tried her best to avoid the onslaught, but most of his these horrific punches landed. He threw some occasional shots into her face which bloodied her lip and caused a swelling in one eye, but that was not his objective, just yet. He cradled her head with one arm to deliver some truly savage shots into her swollen breasts. You could almost feel the force10 rows back. The mauler held her head up by her hair and asked if she, was enjoying this as much as he was? Missy almost blacked out, but her hate for this animal kept her awake. He was a true artist of pain as his shots into her tortured breasts were not designed to be bone-breaking shots, but the kind to weaken, disfigure and disable all resistance from your opponent, while totally humiliating them. The last ten seconds of the round saw him finish pummeling her golden globes into a red and purple swollen mass. Her pain was intolerable, but her desire for revenge unstoppable and in the end that single purpose enabled her to remain upright. At the end of the second round the ringside doctor came in and examined her and pronounced her fit to stand another round. The Mauler was breathing heavily, it was apparent to the crowd this match was really exciting him. Missy's breasts were much larger, now that they were swollen, but not quite as attractive. The fight was following a familiar pattern, battering his opponents senseless, bit by bit until they beg him to stop or are carried out. He also won the second round. Round 3: What part of your anatomy shall I beat on next, he wondered. The brute was ready to violate more of her female anatomy. Incredibly, he threw a very low blow, which her agility saved from the full force, but still her crotch was very sore. He again hit her with a low blow, which angered Missy even more. The crowd booed, but in reality, they were not surprised by the Mauler's tactics. He always was and always will be an animal. Missy in her foggy state was savvy enough to know that two can play at that game. The Mauler was supremely over- confident at this moment. He did not want to end it, just yet and so he let up alittle, which was a fatal mistake. The next right the Mauler threw at her tantalizing breasts hit nothing but air. Missy decided this animal was using no- holds barred tactics and she would answer the same way. She threw a devastating blow, with a much power as she could muster in her present condition, toward his manhood. Striking for all she was worth she hit pay dirt, especially when she felt his protective cup shatter and saw him momentarily freeze, at her sudden attack. Reacting on instinct to the moment, Missy, with piston-like rapidity, hammered ten or more vicious shots to his groin, each sinking deeper and drawing more of a gasp from the Mauler. No one had ever heard him groan in pain before. With 1 minute left in the round he was in serious trouble. He retreated awkwardly toward his corner, attempting to protect his family jewels. With her breasts still throbbing, Missy, amazingly rejuvenated by this turn of events, moved in for the kill and attacked him in the corner feigning blows to his groin, which he carefully covered and instead she hammered him everywhere else at will. Repeated body blows, a smash to the bridge of his nose instantly broke it sending blood everywhere. Her gloves rammed heavily into his rib cage. Two thunderous uppercuts nearly separated his head from his body. A club-like right hand sent his mouthpiece flying. It was followed by a sledge hammer left which brought out about five teeth. By the time the bell rang his right eye was nearly shut. He was a mess, but not quitting yet. Her gloves were covered with his blood, but she knew at best he was only badly weakened and not finished yet. The Mauler could take a lot of punishment and still fight on instinct. This was, however the first time he was fighting with severe injuries to his groin which would test him as never before. The Mauler was in mortal danger now .The doctor administered to him for the first time in his championship reign and stopped the immediate flow of blood. This was a "take-no-prisoners" war! Although Missy's arms weighed a ton, and her breasts were on fire, she knew this was her moment. She was in a fight with the most brutal, lethal man in the state and she even won the round. Round 4: A one-eyed Mauler was still more dangerous than most men with two. He would be extremely careful of his groin. The beating he absorbed in round three had a profound effect on his mobility. The Mauler was slowed to a crawl in his pursuit of the female demon. He was actually staggering around the ring when he moved at all. No longer caring to torment the bitch, he just wanted one punch to send her into a coma. Both fighters breathed heavily thru their mouths although Missy was still much fresher and her speed , now returning, was far to fast for the Mauler. The Mauler was telegraphing his punches, trying to get as much power behind them as possible and Missy was easily darting away. She was also stinging him at will and her body shots began to turn his frame a shade of purple. Having ripped up his face, she was now attacking his body. Missy also, was proving herself quite an artist of pain; as her punching was turning this once fabulous golden granite like physique into a mass of black and blue swellings. They were actually trading blows and Missy's were now packing more power. The punishment she administered in round 3 was still affecting the dazed Mauler. Missy had began to feel her own head clear from his earlier attack and she fought off the thought of the searing pain in her chest. To her utter delight she actually heard one of ribs crack from one of her hardest blows and then another. The Mauler was in agony having great difficulty breathing now and Missy was loving every second. As he grew weaker, she seemed to get stronger. She nailed several blows to his kidney's and he slumped to the canvas. He was up, as the ref slowly reached a count of eight with Missy joining in on the count. We're just starting to have fun champ, she laughed. She stood patiently waiting as he pulled himself up by the ropes and set himself to fight again. Missy asked if he was ready before she nails him again. The Mauler was not really paying attention as he was in too much pain to respond. Missy verbally tormented him as she traded blows, each punch with more confidence than the one before. Missy backed him into the corner and each fighter knew the title would be decided here and now. With a fiendish smile Missy stepped up on the bottom rope which allowed her to look directly into his fearful eyes. You're about to be dethroned pal, she said, so get ready to taste leather. Missy loaded up and reigned down a barrage of blows which reopened all the cuts on his face, covering it in a crimson mask. Her gloves were smeared with his blood which was everywhere. Up and down her punches kept coming, he was totally defenseless. the crowd roared its approval as finally after two years the bully was being bullied. After reshaping his body into a horrible mess of bruises and broken bones, she stepped back for a few seconds to admire her handiwork. Missy went back to work on his face, making sure he would not recognize himself again. He was almost totally out on his feet. it was only Missy that was holding him up, in order to dish out even more punishment. Did he ever dream his undefeated streak would come to an end at the hands of a "woman". In the faintest voice she finally heard him plead for mercy. Missy informed him she was both judge and jury and had found him guilty of brutal and violent crimes and she was delivering the verdict. She reminded him of his trademark... no mercy and continued to hammer away. After all, had he shown any compassion, as he beat and raped her sister in that hotel room? Missy was totally consumed in her vengeance and ignored his pathetic pleas for mercy. The tables had finally turned on the Mauler and Missy was proving she could be just as lethal as he was. Once again she drove her power punches to his useless groin. Tears rolled down the cheeks of the once arrogant champion. The crowd cheered and counted each shot as Missy enjoyed the tortured expression of the Mauler. Over 120 punches, one for each of his victims, finished what was left of him. He was a mis-shapened mass of blood, bruises and broken bones. This was usually the state of his opponents. The Mauler had been unceremoniously "mauled". Finally, Missy felt he had been punished enough, and only then, did she stop punching and finally let him sag to the canvas. Missy had one blackened eye, several loose teeth, a bloody lip and nose. Her breasts were horribly swollen and her crotch was sore, but she looked like a beauty queen compared to the Mauler. She grabbed his title belt and held it over her head. She stood on the chest of the Mauler to acknowledge her new fans. Missy paraded around the ring with his belt held high. The crowd gave her the thumbs up as their new gladiator heroine had satisfied their thirst for blood. Missy put the belt around her waist, as everyone rose to their feet shouting Missy!, Missy! Doctors had in the meantime placed the Mauler on a stretcher immobilizing his neck and were making their way out of the arena to the nearest emergency room. He would be taking his meals thru a straw and most certainly not intimidating anyone ever again. On his way out on the stretcher, Missy laughingly asked him if he wanted a rematch, but she got no response. Missy dedicated her championship title to her sister who was present walking slowly with aid of a cane. I think you can still hear them cheering.