TALES OF THE GARTER AND LACE BY DJH F/F Boxing Story-number 2 of 3 Update: 27/03/1998 to misc4 From: dhutchi104@aol.com (DHutchi104) This is the second of a boxing triogy. Suggest you read part 1 first. All characters and places are fictional. There is some violence and nudity. TALES OF THE GARTER AND LACE PART 2 BY DJH The five of us, Tiny the bouncer, the dancers Marie, June and Tammi, and me, Jake the handyman, continued to discuss John the bartender's story of the brutal boxing match between the two tiny Asian girls. Marie figured it had to be over a man, for nothing else would cause two women to fight that hard. Tiny averred that he had been in Vietnam and thought it might have been a matter of family honor. "In fact" he said "It wouldn't surprise me if they were related." June said thoughtfully "I used to get into with my two sisters when we were teens, but never like that." Tammi agreed, "My sister and I would get pissed and get into each other's hair, but it never got to the stage of really hurting each other." At this point John cleared his throat "Actually" he slowly said as we turned our attention to him "The second boxing match was between two sisters..twins, in fact. As for why they put on the gloves and went after each other with such violence I think I can explain." John's eyes took on that faraway look as we sat, once again caught up in his story. "It was last spring, about 2PM in the afternoon, and I was carrying stock in the back door...... As I reached into the back of the old van for the case of Vodka, the sound of screeching tires reached my ears. I looked up in time to see a late-model Coupe DeVille swerve into the parking lot and rush up towards me. I checked my pocket for my snub .38, I've been mugged before and don't plan on it happening again. The car skidded to a halt about 15 feet away and the two slimmest, tallest, most attractive black women I have ever seen or ever hope to see bolted out of the car. They stood on each side of the automobile and screamed obscenities at each other, "Bitch" and "Whore" being the ones I picked out most often. When they stopped for breath, I made what seemed to be the most intelligent statement I could. "Who in the HELL are you and what are you doing here!!??" As I might have expected, they both began talking at me at the top of their voices. I didn't get their names, but I gathered they wish to "beat the shit out of that %^%%@&"--pick your own expletive, they used them all--and wanted to use our boxing ring to do it. They had apparently seen the sign out front advertising the Foxy Boxing scheduled for that evening. I figured as hot as they were, if I refused, they'd go at it in the parking lot, someone would call the cops, and my schedule would be blown to hell. Besides, I had just placed the faces, and the thought of May and June Tatum going at it in front of me....." "Wait a minute, John" I interrrupted "The Twin Towers of modeling?" The ex-college All-Star basketball players? The very wealthy and successful 28-year old women who've been on the cover of Business Week, Sports Illustrated, and Playboy? Here?" The others muttered in confusion and disbelief. The Garter and Lace is no dive, but the clientele is not the downtown condo hoi polloi. "What brought them here?" "Pure chance, Jake." replied John, taking a sip of beer as we murmured. "What I got from them, between curses, was that they were riding by on the way to an appointment, one saw the sign, they got into a discussion on who could beat whom, and there they were." "That can't be all" remarked Marie as the other two girls nodded in agreement. "There had to be more to it than that. A man, money, something." "I can't say for sure." John thought for a moment. "But I think it was a culmination of many things. Remember girls, how you said you'd get into it with your sisters, and Tiny, I remember that big fight you had with your brother, you two didn't speak for a week." Tiny and the girls tipped their heads slightly in remembrance. "But you got it out in the open and after the fight you made up and got on with life. I think these two, famous for so long and always in the public eye, always together and having to present a happy face, a joy and contentment with the other, never got that chance under the microscope to work out those petty differences. And it just kept building and building and building..." "Until the tiniest spark would set the whole pile off" I finished as John gravely nodded and took another gulp of his beer. "Sorry for the interruption," I said "You were saying you invited them in......" I didn't realize how tall they were, (John continued) until they walked past me into the place. I'm 6'2" and both topped me by a good 3". Add on that they were in 4" heels and I truly felt like a midget. But like good models they were slim nearly to the point on anorexic, I doubt either weighed more than 145 lbs. Their faces were slim with high cheekbones, the arms long with lean muscles, the legs perfectly formed and sculpted, their hair short and close to the head. They marched to the ring, still screaming, and probably would have torn into each other except for my saying this is MY place and you'll use boxing gloves, I don't want anything damaged. As I got the gloves out of storage, the two women removed their designer dresses and stood facing each other in identical red lace bras and panties. By now their voices were getting pretty raw from all the screaming, but they continued to mutter curses and threats as I tied the 12-oz gloves on. The only way I could distinguish them was May had a black "M" on the front of her panties while June had a "J". I told them, two minute rounds, one minute rest, fight until one admits defeat or is beaten. They were breathing heavily now, muscles tensed like two coiled springs. I looked at my watch and as the second hand hit 12, said "Begin". The two litterally ran across the ring to each other, colliding body to body and wrapping their arms around the other. I thought, boxing is going right down the tubes, this is going to be a catfight, but to my surprise they stopped grappling after 5-10 seconds, took a step back and with their lips curled back in what only can be called a feral snarl, went at it. They had no fighting skills, the punches were often more slaps than hits and they came from overhead windmilling or out from left field. But Lord!, they were throwing them with everything they had and were concentrating on each other's face. Maybe looking into a human mirror all these years had taken a toll, because they were sure out to change each others looks. They stormed around the ring like berserk dance partners, first one beating the other backwards then her sister taking charge and driving her kin around the ring. It was all I could do to keep out of their way. While most of the punches landed on arms and shoulders or missed altogether, enough got through to do damage. I could see a mouse forming under June's left eye and a trickle of blood was coming from May's lip. I looked at my watch and saw nearly three minutes had passed. I yelled out "TIME" but the warring siblings just kept right out mauling each other. I bided my time and when they stepped apart after simultaneous punches to the nose, I took my life in my hands, stepped between them and with a firm push to their shoulders sent them staggering towards their corners. Both were breathing hard and I notice the bruises on their cheeks from the windmill blows that had slashed alongside their faces. Their bras were not made for such savage action and had slipped down around their slim, curvy waists. Their breasts were small and rather flat, with large dark aureola and little round nipples, now erect from the adrenalin pumping through their systems. Both were still in a high state of excitement, seemingly not noticing their hurts. Rounds 2 and 3 were conducted at much the same pace as the first, although I was able to keep time and break them up closer to the two minute mark. The frantic windmill style continued, but I could see by the middle of the second round that they were now trying to aim the punches rather than just flailing away with their arms. But the two twins still concentrated on throwing everything they had at each other's head and by the end of the third round the only modeling cover they could have done would have been for a horror magazine cover. May was bleeding heavily from a cut over her right eye which didn't hurt her vision as the eye was nearly swollen shut; her nose was bleeding and her bottom lip was slashed where her teeth had bit down after a particuarly hard punch. The cheek bruises were swelling, even more noticable on such a slim, perfect face. Her body was covered in sweat as she moaned softly in pain and gasped for breath. June was in no better shape; she did not have a cut over her eyes but there was one on the left side of her forehead that sent rivulets of blood streaming down her swollen cheeks; her nose and lips also bled and it was her left eye was virtually shut. She gasped for air as tears involuntarily trickled down the side of her face from the pain to mix with her sweat. While I was appalled at the damage they were doing, I was also glad that I had invited them inside to use the gloves; barehanded outside they would have put each other in the hospital, if not the morgue. I've seen lots of fights in my day, folks, men and women, with money, pride, sex, everything on the line, but nothing to compare to the ferocity of those three rounds. They couldn't keep up that pace, of course; no human being, no matter how much adrenalin and venom is pumping through their veins could. Rounds 4 and 5 saw them stay at arms length, hands up in a defensive posture for the first time, jabbing away and hitting mostly gloves. May winced and backed up in the 4th when June landed a solid punch to the nose; June retreated in the 5th when May got through with a semi-left hook to her cheekbone; The feral looks were gone by now, replaced by exhaustion. I asked them after the end of the 5th round if they wanted to stop. May considered it, then stared directly at June. "Been a long time coming, sis. I guess we got to go on." June stared steadily back at her twin. "Yeah, guess so. Don't want to kill you anymore, but I still want to beat you." "Same here" replied May and turning to me said "If you don't mind, sir, we'll finish what we started." The two tall amazons, still beautiful despite their gory faces, moved slowly out from the corners to begin the 6th round. Moving in close, they began to throw punches to the midsection. The occasional blow went north to the breasts, but in general they aimed for the area between the ribs and the navel. Between athletics and modeling the muscles here were solid, but they now seemed determined to break down the other's resistance. The punches were not a furious as in the first three rounds and often their long arms became entangled like crossed wires, but the unladylike grunts heard every few seconds indicated that they were landing punches and that those punches were hurting. The 7th round was more of the same, the duo moving in even closer and clinching for the first time, grabbing the other around the back with their left hands and belting each other in the side with their rights. I let them go at each other that way for a few seconds, then broke them apart. Their heads now leaned on the other's shoulders as they panted hoarsely. The four boxing gloves, at the end of sore and muscle-weary arms, were touching together between the two torsos. Then one's glove would slip away from her opponents and land somewhere on her foe's body, then return, hopefully in time to block the return blow. Into the 8th round, and this brutal body attack between two women at the point of exhaustion continued. I figured in my own mind that if they made it through the 10th I would call a halt, let them rest and clean up, and maybe call a halt to it. But that decision was taken out of my hands. About a minute into the 9th round, June landed first one, then two, then a third hard punch to May's midsection. May backed up a step, wincing in pain and weakly fired off a couple of punches of her own that on hit only arms. With May's guard down, June swung a left from way out in the countryside that caught May on the side of the head. With a gasp and a shudder, May went to her knees, and eyes glassy, fell sideways to the canvas. She was obviously out. June fell to her knees next to her sister and with tears in her eyes softly rubbed her ravaged cheeks. May woke up, saw her sister crying above her, and burst into tears herself. The two women embraced, now sobbing loudly as they held each other softly. I quietly exited the ring and left them there. I had a truck to finish unloading; they had lives to get back together. I came back in about 10 minutes later. Both were dressed and had cleaned up some, although both faces were puffy and bruised and they wouldn't be seeing clearly on the drive home. They both thanked me for "refereeing our little family quarrel" and left arm in arm--like sisters should...... "I'm still not sure I buy this" I said, "I mean, the odds of this happening.." I stopped as John held up his hand. "I'm showing this to you in trust that none of you will never mention it again." and the look on his face said he meant business. We all promised, and John went back behind the bar to the little office he keeps. He came out with an 8X11 manila envelope. Reaching in, he took out a photo and set it on the bar. "Got this in the mail two months after the fight." he said. The photograph was a professional job; background lighting and all. In it were the Twin Towers, dressed in boxing shorts and t-shirts, posing in boxing stances wearing 16-oz gloves. They had signed their names and as we all gawked, John turned the picture over. On it was written "To our favorite referee--now we spar weekly with the big gloves and don't let things build up between us. Love, May and June" "Well I'll be dammed" breathed Tiny after we had all finished looking at the picture and each other. "tiny asian women and tall skinny black twins; I almost hate to ask what the last pair was like." "Actually," John answered, "They were the most unique pair of the bunch, they were they only ones definitely fighting over a man, and there's was the longest and in my opinion, most brutal of the three fights." "Good God." exclaimed Marie "I guess the bus can wait another hour. Tell the story, John." as a chorus of assents greeted her remarks. "O.K., but let me refresh my beer and memory; then I'll tell you of the last of the real fights that happened here.