ForfeitIII  08/01/99
By Smac.
A women's' boxing match ends with a forfeit, this is the decider.

Corrected 13/06/2001

It was the New Year.
It had taken even longer for Angie and Camilla to recover from their forfeit 
fight this year.  
Even now, a good fortnight after the boxing match, both their faces were still 
marked, especially around their bright eyes.
Still they'd spent nearly the whole day working out in the big gym amongst some 
of the paying guests at the club.  Now they were at one of the well stocked 
bars, both in tiny white string bikinis, as were some of the other women.  After 
a long G & T each, they slipped up to their rooms to reappear minutes later each 
with a wrap around cotton skirt around their tanned thighs as they headed for 
the restaurant and a light dinner.  Then back to the bar and a nightcap.  They 
intended to spend the whole of the next day in the gym too, training hard to box 
one another next Christmas Eve.  It had been agreed that this would be the last 
of their yearly boxing matches with a forfeit for the loser.  As for the forfeit 
this year...
The four of them, Angie and Camilla, and their husbands Mike and Dave had talked 
over the plans over the previous weekend.
They'd all sat at the poolside.
The two men in swimming trunks and the women in minute string bikinis.
It was natural enough for the two big 44 year olds to want to box again.  They 
were evens now with one hollow victory apiece.  Both the husbands felt rather 
queasy about having to watch them fight again.  They thought the first boxing 
match brutal enough, but the fight a fortnight ago...
They'd half killed one another.
As for the forfeit afterwards.
Mike had stuffed his fat cock in her bloody mouth first, Camilla couldn't 
breathe properly through her blood clogged nose and soon a frothy mixture of 
blood and spunk began to run off the end of her chin down into her blood and 
sweat streaked cleavage.  Dave, rather sheepishly, fucked her mouth very gently 
till he too came copiously, Camilla valiantly tried to swallow it all as was her 
custom.
All this time the doctor, Julia, had looked away, obviously out of her depth.
This, and the fact that she'd not been able to provide any relief for the two 
boxers prompted Camilla to suggest that she would not be asked back.
All four of them agreed that the forfeit was just about right, humiliating maybe 
but painful, no.
When the question of dress was raised, by the two husbands, Angie had said, "why 
bother?"
So it was agreed, they'd box this last time in the nude, as naked as the day 
they'd been born almost forty five years ago.
Dave, an ex professional boxer, fearful for his stunning wife had suggested they 
try four ounce gloves this time.
"Wouldn't they hurt even more?" asked his wife.
"Well yes, they're hard little gloves alright, but you see in theory the fight 
shouldn't last as long as it would if you stick with the six ounce gloves."
"Shorter and sharper, you mean," suggested Angie.
He shrugged.
"Can you get white boxing gloves?" asked Camilla, "if we're going to buy some 
new ones."
"I've seen them before," replied Dave, "I'll see what I can do."
So the rules ended up as: 
 
 
1).  They'd box in the nude with the  hoped for white boxing gloves.

2).  The gloves to be regulation four ounce in weight.
 
3).  As many three minute rounds would be fought until one of them was knocked 
out.

4).  The count would be of a twenty second duration.

5).  Their husbands would be present and would referee alternate rounds.

6).  They would receive no attention between rounds.

7).   At the end of the fight their boxing gloves would remain on.   The loser, 
once she had regained consciousness, would suck off the two husbands from her 
stool in her corner.

Round about Easter it was.  
Camilla was in the gym, in the inevitable baggy track suit, sweat pouring under 
the thick fabric as she wound down from a very long work out by cycling 
furiously on one of the exercise bikes.
She slid off the bike, exhausted, just as her husband, Dave, came into the room.
"A parcel arrived this morning," he smiled.
"You unwrap it," she murmured from behind her towel, "I'm knackered."
The parcel had been addressed to him so he'd already looked inside.
She draped the towel over the handlebars of the bike and he tossed her a 
polythene bag.
Her eyes widened as she turned the bag over in her sweaty hands.
Inside were two little balls of bright white leather.
It was one of the two pairs of four ounce boxing gloves that Dave had half 
promised when the rules were decided.
At once Camilla's state changed from exhaustion to excitement.
She tipped the little gloves out of the bag.
"They're so small," she crooned.
 "You'll be able to half kill each other with those," thought Dave.
Camilla couldn't get the gloves on quickly enough.
"Do the laces for me?" she pleaded.
"No, just a minute," she pulled the gloves off, tucking them between her 
trembling knees, and yanked the track suit top off.
She was bare to the waist, her great ivory breasts slick with sweat.
"Ok, laces."
As soon as the little boxing gloves were on she held her right fist up to her 
left breast.  The glove was dwarfed by the massive tit.  She raised her fist and 
tapped herself firmly on the chin.  The corners of her mouth turned down and she 
looked at Dave anxiously.
"Pull my bottoms off," she mumbled.
He eased the damp material from her bare legs and feet.
Under was a tiny, white tanga.
She parted her thighs and offered the little boxing glove up to her barely 
covered crotch gap.  She could imagine how vulnerable to Angie's fists her very 
womanhood might be.
"Come on, let's try them out," she panted.
"Certainly not," snapped Dave, "I bought you these for your Christmas Eve fight 
with Angie.  What do you think she'd say if they got all messed up before she'd 
put them on."
He thought for a moment.
"I think you should put your names in them so that at least one pair stays new."
She grabbed her track suit and headed for the laundry room to find a marker pen.
By the time she returned she had cooled off a little.
She carefully placed the tiny little white boxing gloves on a bench, "we could 
just have a little sparring session couldn't we?"
He caught the nuance in her pleading voice.
"Yes, ok.  A few rounds in eight ouncers before you shower."
She went to lock the interior door, he checked the french windows and slowly 
closed the heavy, black curtains.
As soon as the room was private, she tugged off her top and trousers, but this 
time the little tanga came off too, exposing her clean shaven, glistening mound 
of Venus.
Dave's cock was already impressively hard as he too stripped off completely, it 
hung heavily between his bunched thighs as he came back over to the ringside 
with the two pairs of boxing gloves.  The red pair had laces, the black had 
velcro at the cuffs.
"Which do you want?" he asked unnecessarily.
"Black please," she smiled, squeezing sexily between the ring ropes.
He knew she liked to lace the gloves onto his fists before getting her own 
boxing gloves onto her own.
He too got into the familiar ring and held his hands out for her to tie on his 
boxing gloves.
Once one glove was on, she nestled it in her sweaty cleavage whilst she tied the 
laces as tightly as she could.  She repeated the procedure till he had both 
gloves on then she cupped his balls in one hand and stroked his massive erection 
with the other for a minute or so before struggling into her black boxing 
gloves.
Dave, a very accomplished amateur boxer, seemed able to judge three minutes so 
well, they hardly ever bother with a timer.
They stood nervously in opposite corners for a few seconds, then Dave nodded and 
Camilla came over towards his corner, her black boxing gloves up to her flushed 
face, her massive breasts juddering with each firm step.
He pushed off the turnbuckle and brought his red gloves up to chest height.
He flicked out a lightening fast left jab.
She felt the all too familiar smarting mouth.
He outclassed her totally in the ring.
But she always came back for more.
That's what he'd heard when she'd pleaded with him to get into the ring with 
her.
He let her land a couple on him, then he hit her with a straight right to her 
left tit.
She dropped her black gloves, trying to cover her chest and her hit her heavily 
in the face as he called for the break.
She turned at once for her corner hoping her husband wouldn't notice her 
stroking her poor tit with her own right glove.
He kept his back to the ring until he called, "Round Two."
She came at him again, undaunted.
He flicked out his left jab again and the hard, red leather met her advancing 
nose.
She tried to sniff the blood back for as long as she could, but soon she could 
feel the familiar warm, wet feeling on her lips and chin.
She began throwing wild punches at her husband, but he just ducked and weaved, 
all the time jabbing accurately at her with the occasion hard straight right 
thrown in.
By the end of the round she was puffed out, her face blotchy and her nose 
running a ribbon of fresh blood down over her heaving chest.
Dave said, "Stop boxing," and she, instead of turning for her corner, walked 
back to his.
She held her massive tits up to him with her black boxing gloves, "you like 
seeing my tits covered in blood don't you?"
Dave grunted, "you wanted to box, do you want to pack it in now?"
She dropped to her knees, folding her blood spattered breasts round his rampant 
member.
She popped the tip of his penis into her bloody mouth with her left glove.
Dave grunted again and his thighs involuntarily parted.
After sucking him for a few more seconds she drove her right fist up into his 
hanging balls.
Dave screamed and pushed Camilla away from him with his left glove, the right 
one cupping his smashed testicles.
Camilla lay on her back on the canvas, a satisfied look on her bashed in face.
As soon as he recovered, which was not for several minutes, Dave said, "ok, one 
more round."
Camilla knew she was in for a thrashing.
He stopped just short of breaking her nose, her lips were bleeding and her 
breasts hard swollen with the bruising of the last three minutes.
She had to get her gloves off first before she could get Dave out of his.  She 
could hardly see to do it, there was blood all over her arms and gloves.
"Leave them for now," he panted, grabbing her sagging shoulders with his soiled 
boxing gloves.
He pushed her gently to the spattered canvas.
She was too weak to resist even if she'd wanted to.

When he awoke the next morning, her side of the bed was empty and cold.
He knew where she'd be.
He looked in on the way to his office.
"Yes, there she is."
She was in her spring cleaning outfit of jeans and a tee shirt, on her knees 
trying to scrub away all traces of last night's fight before the paying guests 
began to come in to use the gym facilities.
It seemed odd to Dave that she wore dark glasses.
Then he remembered the state of her face......
He left her to it, "she'd begged him to get into the ring with her hadn't she?"
He thought about the eight months left between then and her impending boxing 
match with Angie.
"We won't be able to do that sort of thing too often," he smiled to himself, 
"pity."
He was still thinking about the way their sparring sessions invariably descended 
into one sided blood baths as he unlocked his office door.
"Maybe I could find her another sparring partner?"

During the course of the day he made a couple of 'phone calls.
By that same evening he'd arranged, through a friend of his on the amateur 
boxing circuit, for a 25 year old girl from a local gym, who apparently couldn't 
get enough fights, to meet them for a drink.
She turned out to be an ideal sparring partner for Camilla.
Sue was only 5' 3" so Camilla towered over her and she was rather roly poly but 
once she got the gloves on, she was like a tank.  She took some stopping and 
that was exactly what Camilla needed to train her for her last match with Angie.
Dave took a great deal of pleasure in watching them slugging each other in the 
ring every couple of weeks.  The little blonde Sue, nearly naked in a little 
string bikini and his statuesque wife pounding one another in the body and face 
till neither could stand any longer was quite a spectacle and it took the heat 
off of him.
He literally had to read them the riot act when, in October, he felt that the 
time had come for the sparring to stop as the Christmas Eve match drew near.
He was bowled over when the spunky Sue asked him if he could box.
So there it was, he and Sue could box now and then even though Camilla was 
excluded.
Angie was invited round to watch a couple of the Dave vs. Sue matches and she 
and Camilla were reduced to seconds for the evening.  Sue gave Dave a run for 
his money a time or two, but always ended up sprawled unconscious on the canvas.
More work for Camilla early the following morning.

Naturally Sue knew of the big fight looming.
Naturally she was invited to watch.
It turned out that she was a graduate nurse, so two birds were killed.
When told that all four, the two women boxers and their husbands, would be nude 
for the duration of the fight, Sue had smiled and said that she'd wear just half 
of her bikini that night.
As on the two previous occasions, Angie came round early on the Friday morning 
of the match.
They did no training, just an hour in the pool, some time in the sauna, then off 
together to Camilla's boudoir for the rest of the afternoon.
Sue arrived early in the evening and enquired of them.
"They'll be down soon," yawned Dave, "they like to make sure they're squeaky  
clean before they get in the ring."  
Dave and Sue made their way to the gym to wait for the two boxers.
Sue dropped her handbag on a seat and turned to Dave.
"I may as well get ready."
She unpacked a little pair of PVC gloves and some other first aid bits.
She kicked off her little flat shoes and popped the button of her bulging jeans.
She wiggled the blue denim over the globes of her bum and Dave saw just bare 
flesh.  As she turned back to face him he noticed she had on a tiny, white g 
string.  She eased her sweater over her blonde curls.  The bra beneath was 
straining to contain her 44" breasts but, as promised that too came off.
Dave openly ogled the huge, brown breasts with their big, flat nipples about as 
big as the palm of his hand.  He'd known she had big tits of course, but even so 
he was much impressed and, as he too stripped, his arousal was all too apparent.
Sue grinned.
The door clicked open and the two bare foot women boxers entered, wearing the 
same long black leather coats that they'd worn for their first boxing match.
They stood briefly, holding hands at the threshold.
Sue didn't know them that well, but Dave and Mike could sense just how 
frightened they really were.
Camilla glanced over at Sue and gave her the weakest of smiles.
Sue rose up from her chair and began to busy herself.
She tidied her medical things and, with an air of resignation, pulled on the PVC 
gloves she'd brought with her. 
The two women parted as they neared the boxing ring and both squeezed through 
the taut ring ropes as elegantly as possible, holding their leather coats close 
about their bulging breasts.
Their husbands joined them at their respective corners.
The women eschewed the little stools as they did the offer of tape and plaster 
for their bare knuckles.
Dave shook his head slowly as he pushed the tiny white four ouncers onto his 
wife's trembling hands.  
She looked over to Angela and they exchanged a knowing, but weak smile.
Sue, of course knew that the two women were to box naked, indeed she could 
already see most of their huge breasts as their coats necessarily fell open 
during the gloving up operation.
Despite the air of fear and trepidation in the ring, both husbands were clearly 
aroused by the prospect, despite their concern for the well being of their 
wives.
Sue found the whole spectacle more stimulating than she could ever have 
imagined, she wiggled her bare bum on the chair to try to satisfy herself      
but, after a few minutes she dropped both hands down between her legs and hugged 
herself. 
The surgical tape was applied in the end.  Round the tight laces of the 
ridiculously small boxing gloves, to stop them unravelling during the fight.
Dave snuck out of the ring, to find the bell and Mike looked at the two women in 
turn.
Their response was, simultaneously, to shrug the heavy black leather coats from 
their heaving shoulders.
Three pairs of eyes focussed on the suddenly revealed expanse of bare flesh.
Both Camilla and Angela were baby bare, neither sported any body hair, their 
prominent pubic bulges thrust out, their huge, firm breasts seemed to fill the 
space around their corners.  Both had had their hair cut especially short for 
the fight, it had been Angie's idea after having her hair messed up so badly in 
the first of their forfeit fights.
Camilla banged her tiny white gloves together in front of her tight tummy, Angie 
turned to face her corner and, grabbing the top rope with her gloved hands, 
crouched several times to ease her muscles, her bare bum clenched and unclenched 
every muscle in her body seemed well defined and pumped up, ready for action.
Action came.
Dave dinged the bell.
The tension in the room seemed, surprisingly, to lighten immediately.
They two brave women walked out to the centre of the ring, their bare breasts 
and bums juddering with each strong step.
Camilla grabbed her friend's gloved hands and raised them to her lips, kissing 
the white leather, Angie responded by patting her on the shoulder and then 
smoothing Camilla's strong forearm with her leather clad hand.
Then, they each took a step back and the punch up began.
Sue's jaw dropped when the two boxers began to hit one another.
Dave began to have second thoughts about the four ounce gloves as Camilla began 
to take leather in the face and tits.
The little gloves seemed to disappear right into the big women's tits as the 
breast punches landed.
Dave glanced over to where Sue sat.
She still had her mouth open, big breasts jutting out and quivering slightly as 
she jammed her PVC clad hands down between her barrel thighs.
Camilla took a particularly viscous straight right to her chin, she staggered 
while Angela shook her right fist and frowned.  She was just about to follow up 
on the big punch when Dave dinged the bell to end the first round.
Dave jumped up into the ring, "how are the gloves?"
"She nearly floored me with that right hand."
Dave frowned.
Angie was still flexing her right hand in the opposite corner.
"You've got a pair on too," said Dave.
Camilla nodded slowly.
They touched gloves again as Dave rang the bell.
Then the leather really began to fly.
Sue's eyes widened as the two big, naked women laid into one another with the 
hard little boxing gloves.
Their were no defensive moves, just the relentless punch and counterpunch.  
Their heads were snapped back and rocked from side to side.  They gasped and 
grunted as the fearsome blows landed.  Both their faces were bright crimson as 
Mike dinged the bell to end the second.
The two women dropped their gloves and each managed a weak smile as they turned 
for their corners at the end of the brutal three minutes of non stop punching.
They would have benefited from an ice pack each for their already puffy faces, 
even a damp sponge would have helped, but rules were rules, no assistance 
between rounds.
They both seemed keen enough to jump up for round three as Dave rang the bell, 
summoning his brave wife out to face another three minutes of brutality.
Even Sue looked flushed as the two women came together in the ring, their bare 
feet were at her eye level and she watched them pad over the white canvas 
towards one another, gloves up at their chins, elbows tucked into their bulging, 
as yet untouched, breasts.
Her hands fell into her lap again.
In the ring, Camilla seemed to shrug and then piston her right fist, straight 
out into the very centre of her friend's face.  
Angie mewed as the thick, white leather crushed her nose.
The first blood of the fight began to drip down into her already sweaty 
cleavage.
Dave, ever the pragmatist, thought that the first blood was long overdue given 
the tiny gloves and the women's physical condition and mutual thirst for 
supremacy.
Angie ignored her injury and busted Camilla so hard in the mouth that she too 
winced in pain, backing off as her lips visibly swelled in seconds.  She brought 
her gloves up high to cover her face and Angie caught her with the first real 
tit punch of the fight so far.  As predicted by Camilla the glove buried itself 
right into the meat of her huge left breast.  Only the bandaged cuff was visible 
before Angela retracted her fist ready for the next blow.
But Camilla was able to fire off a right cross of her own to her friend's open 
face, catching her on the nose again, a gout of blood flew across the small 
ring, a large streak of blood on the right side of Angie's face a testament to 
the force of the blow.
"Here we go again," muttered Mike to himself.
Angie was clearly hurt.
The tiny gloves seemed to be having the desired effect, to make the fight short 
but sharp.
Dave, rather reluctantly, rang the bell to end the cruel round.
Camilla seemed full of herself as she stood proudly in her corner.
Angela turned her back to the ring as if to hide the blood down over her 
magnificent breasts.
Sue, nearer Camilla's corner, noticed that the brunette's gloves were smudged 
with crimson, blood from her friend's poor nose.
Mike looked a little green round the gills as he clambered into the ring to 
begin the redundant task of reffing the fourth round.
Camilla looked at him rather sheepishly.
Dave dinged the bell and suddenly they were at it again.
Angie ran at Camilla windmilling her arms, her breasts flying everywhere she was 
angry, but wide open.
Camilla stopped her instantly with another cruel straight right to the centre of 
her friend's face.  That her nose was broken was obvious.  Blood literally 
squirted down over her heaving chest and she was blinded by tears.
Mike clutched the top rope with white knuckles.
Even Camilla paused temporarily.
She knew she had to take the advantage though, this was a fight to the finish 
and Angela clearly was not yet finished.
She was rather dazed and her gloves were, understandably high up to cover her 
busted nose.
Camilla uppercut her between her belly button and the top of her slit.
She stooped forwards, her mouth forming an 'O', blood flecks flying from her wet 
lips.
Camilla unleashed another cruel right uppercut, catching her full on the left 
nipple.  
There was nowhere for the tortured tit to go.  The glove sank in as it had into 
her own breast minutes before.
Angela sank to own knee.
She looked a sorry sight compared to the proud beauty standing, naked in the 
ring a quarter of an hour ago.
It seemed to be turning out to be the most one sided of their fights so far.
Sue, watching intently from her chair, knew all about this aspect of the fight 
game.
But Angela wasn't finished yet.
Mike knew this, queasy as he felt, he hadn't begun a count, knowing that his 
stoic wife would rise to face Camilla's fists this time at least.
The cruel punishment continued till the end of the fourth. 
Camilla punched Angela almost at will, but sticking with her friend's face and 
tits to the exclusion of her seemingly very vulnerable pubic area.
Angie shuffled to her stool.  She was bloodied down to her waist now.  She eased 
her broad, bare bottom onto the seat.  
Mike wished there was something he could do or say.
She patted his forearm with the tiny white weapon on her fist.
Camilla was talking animatedly to Dave.  Both of them looked over to the 
opposite corner several times, before Mike walked slowly from the ring apron to 
sound the bell for the fifth.
Angela, having not been cleaned up during the break looked as bad as before, 
Camilla, apart from her puffy mouth looked reasonably fresh, if bathed in sweat 
and flecked about the chest with blood from her friend's open nose.
Ironically the last round had taught Angie something, these cruel little boxing 
could get right into the core of a woman boxer.
Camilla came out of her corner brimming with confidence, her bare feet dancing 
on the spattered canvas, her gloves framing her almost untouched face.
Angie, uncharacteristically, backed off letting her friend come forward until 
she felt the rough ring ropes on her sweaty back.  Camilla kept coming and they 
clinched on the ropes, Dave came towards them to break them but before he could 
Angie did the business.  
She whipped two viscous uppercuts up into his wife's groin.
Camilla stood transfixed while Angie slid her back along the ropes and 
extricated herself.
Camilla turned slowly, her face ashen, her gash red and glistening as her thighs 
clenched and unclenched.
Angie punched her twice more, once in the left tit.  The tiny glove made a 
shlucking sound as it crushed her breastmeat into her sturnum.  The second blow 
caught her squarely in the mouth, driving her front teeth through her already 
swollen lower lip.  She sank to the canvas on her knees, blood dripping from her 
hanging head, her crimson stained boxing gloves over her ravaged cunt.
Dave, rather reluctantly, began a slow count over his suffering wife.
She looked up at him attempting a weak smile with her grotesque mouth.
The two boxers stayed at arms length for the remainder of the fifth.
The round ended more evenly, with both sustaining more damage to their poor 
faces from the ridiculously small boxing gloves.
"Well at least it shouldn't come to a battle of attrition with those gloves," 
sighed Dave.
He checked Camilla's mouth before climbing out of the ring to ring the bell for 
the sixth.  It would need stitches and her front teeth would need to be checked.
"Why they won't use gumshields is beyond me," he sighed again.
Her glanced over to the opposite corner.
Angie lay back on the turnbuckle, her bare blood streaked thighs out before her, 
her eyes closed.
He felt guilty as he dinged the bell.
The two blood spattered women shuffled towards one another, Angie knew it was 
now or never, she had to make the most of the little advantage she'd gained.
Camilla still seemed a little wooden in leg department.
Angie whipped a classic one, two into her friends face, bloodying her nose and 
renewing the flow from her mouth.
The last one hurt the brunette.
She sobbed and brought her little gloves up to her face.
Angie uppercut her in her left tit.
The soggy little boxing glove lifted the whole breast up under Camilla's wet 
chin.
She didn't know what to do to stop the onslaught.
As the ravaged tit flopped back onto her messy belly, Dave noticed a pearl of 
blood forming on the end of her squashy nipple.
Sue was rivetted to the scene her sweaty hands caressing her own massive mams.
Angie whacked her friend in the left tit with a viscous straight right.
Camilla screamed and fell on all fours, her heavy,  swollen right tit dripping 
onto the canvas, her soiled boxing gloves palm open on the messy ring floor.
Mike began a count straight away.
She was up at twelve, but in any normal fight he would have stopped it there, 
she was not fully conscious.
While he ummed and ahhed, Angela came forwards.
She pulled her right fist way back and whacked her friend in the face harder 
than she'd ever punched before.
Bright red blood spurted down over Camilla's chest, her poor nose spread all 
over her handsome face.  She hung there for a moment before crashing down onto 
her sweaty back.  A pool of blood formed under her head, soaking into her thick 
hair.  Her legs splayed showing off her swollen, slick labia.
Dave jumped into the ring, cradling her ruined face in his hands.
Angie raised her right fist momentarily before joining him, crouching her own 
nude, blood streaked body down over her vanquished opponent and best friend.
Neither husband felt they could take up the forfeit in the light of Camilla's 
ruined mouth.
They left the two boxers in the ring to recover for a few minute's before 
letting Sue do what she could for them.
She spent the time doing what she could for the two men, the forfeit had been 
paid by proxy.