Injury Time Part I By Smac Two women prepare for a club boxing match. Corrected 14/06/2001 She clambered into the ring under the gaze of the woman in the corner opposite. "You 'ere for the fight luv?" snivelled a woman absentmindedly dusting the corner post. "I am the fight," snapped the newcomer. She was big. Tall and well built. Early thirties. Long light brown hair. The woman lounging in the opposite corner knew her only as Pam. Pam wore a clinging black crepe dress. Her massive tits looked as if they'd been ladled into it. Her gaily painted fingers were adorned with rings, even a broad wedding band. With her hair up on top of her fine head the massive ingots of gold in the gaping piercings through her ears were very obtrusive. She'd kicked off her high heels before squeezing through the ropes so that she stood bare foot on the grey canvas of her corner of the boxing ring. Pam, at last, looked over to the other woman, still watching her from the other side of the grubby ring. Doreen was stunning. Long, blonde hair, real by the look of it, all but confirmed by the big green eyes and faultless complexion. Pam eyed the breastworks under her straining white blouse, "they said she's a 46, same as me, and then some by the look of it." Doreen sensed the attention of the other woman and began to pick at her blouse buttons. "Wait," snapped a woman's voice. She cast steely glances at the four video camera stations, "are we all ready?" There was, after a while, some consensus and Doreen was allowed to continue with the buttons or her gossamer blouse. The video camera girls focussed in on the brown melons as the blouse dropped to the canvas, contrasting it's pristine whiteness with the stained, grey canvas of the ring floor. The big tits now hung almost to Doreen's deep navel. Each light brown areola almost as big as her soft, round face. She folded her arms under the breasts as if to cradle them, easing the strain on her broad, brown shoulders. Pam felt the zip at the back of her little black number being dragged down her broad back. She hunched her shoulders and peeled the clingy material down her arms and away from the great bags of tit flesh. She smiled faintly as she straightened and her nipples too settled to just above her belly button. Both women's breasts would present easy targets. Pam turned to face her second. "You've done this before haven't you?" asked the frightened looking girl. "Yes," said Pam. She looked out into the hall, picking out one or the video camera operators. "I did her a couple of years ago, Sue she's called." "How did it go?" swallowed the second, her knuckles white round the top rope. "She really wanted it," snapped Pam, "just damn well stood there and let me hit her. Broke her nose and that, oh, and split one of her tight little tits. But, like I say, it's what she wanted. I don't think I've seen her in the ring since though, perhaps I did too good a job on her," she grinned, stepping out of her tiny dress. The second took it and put it on a table outside the boxing ring. Pam was left in just a white, silk g string. Doreen, not to be outdone, unzipped her short black leather mini skirt to stand completely naked in her corner. Her pink, shaven slit already glistening wetly under the harsh ring lights. Pam dug her strong thumbs into the side strings of her string and she too stood bare and bald on the grubby, sepia stained canvas. She felt a stool on the backs of her trembling knees. The doctor was a heavily built woman in her thirties. She wore a tee shirt over her massive bosom, a short black leather skirt and white vinyl surgical gloves. She chatted as she checked Pam for blood pressure and anaemia. "You've had your nose broken before I see." "This will be the fifth time," replied Pam resignedly. "Breasts ok at the moment?" "Soon find out," thought Pam. "They've never been a problem for me in the ring," she said with a thin smile. "She'd had both breasts split badly twice in the very ring in which she now sat. Her second climbed back into the ring to stand beside her, she casually dropped a pair of white leather boxing gloves onto Pam's bare thighs. The doctor patted Pam on the shoulder, "why do you do it?" "You like to watch us doing it," she snapped, pushing one of the little boxing gloves up between the doctor's meaty thighs, "and having your hands jammed up your skirt while you watch the videos after. The doctor coloured up and, after grinding herself against the invading boxing glove for a few seconds, extricated herself and made off round the boxing ring to check on Doreen. "Stand up a minute," pleaded Pam's second, "you know I have to do this." With a large pair of scissors she chopped off great hanks of Pam's beautiful brown hair. She did her best to make a neat job of it but by the time there was a pile of hair on the canvas Pam's head looked like an old brush. The only consolation was that there was a similar, if blonde, pile of hair in the other corner. They didn't bother with tying it up here. Next Pam's second sank to her knees to run her fingers over her charge's smooth shaven pubic mound. "Ok?" asked Pam. "I think I'll just put some cream on it to make sure." Pam parted her thighs to receive first a wad of cotton wool right up inside her, then the cold slimy depilation cream. There was nothing she could do other than stand there in front of the cameras while the cream did it's work. Then the soft, cool of the flannel and her pubis looked beautiful as if shone wetly under the harsh ring lights. Her second gingerly retrieved the now soggy wad of cotton wool. The Pam tool off her rings and gave them to her second, ready for the gloves. The white leather boxing gloves were specially made for these crazy women. They contained very little padding over the knuckles and were barely four ounces apiece. Her second tied them very tight indeed, then wound several feet of surgical tape around each of her wrists to stop the laces coming undone during the fight. The bossy woman finally strode up to the ring apron, "ready?" The two seconds nodded. "Out of the ring." All four occupants squeezed through the ropes while the slovenly woman swept up all the hair and cotton wool. Then a couple of others helped her stretch a new, white cotton sheet over the messy ring floor. When finished it looked fine. The boss hopped back into the ring and bade the two boxers back in too. "You've both done this before so you know the score" she sneered, "three minute rounds, with a minute break. No knock out or points scoring, you get the chance to admit defeat when your injuries get severe enough. Tonight it's going to be when you're bloodied as far as your breasts, navel, cunt, knees and feet. If neither of you have capitulated by then, well it will be up to you.........." The two brave women turned for their respective corners.