The Return Match  
By Smac
Anne and Jane box again.








The bell rang bringing the last of three rounds of sparring to an end, 
the two track suited figures dropped their gloves and hung over the 
ropes panting hard. After a few moments Derek turned to look at his 
sparring partner, Jane his wife.  Like him she was dressed in a 
lightweight track suit, black ten ounce boxing gloves and a headguard.  
What he could see of her face was drenched with sweat and the rat tails 
of hair hanging under the headguard were sticking to her neck.
"Come on love, let me get your gloves off then you can get me out of 
mine," he suggested, laying a gloved hand on her shoulder.
Jane's gloves had elastic cuffs which allowed them to be removed simply 
by pulling.  Jane turned and held out her hands one at a time, so that 
he could pull the big gloves off her fists.  She first unlaced her own 
headguard then his guard and boxing gloves. She shook her hair loose and fanned 
her face with both hands.
"Next time we spar we should wear less, it would be cooler and more 
intimate, besides sweating so much doesn't lose you any weight in the 
long run."
Derek kissed his wife on the cheek and asked her if she had enjoyed the 
boxing.
"It was Ok, but a bit like eating a toffee with the wrapper on, 
fighting in all this gear," she nodded at the headguards, now lying on 
the ring floor.
"Ah but I didn't want to see you bruised love especially as it's your 
birthday on Saturday."
"What," smiled Jane, "don't you remember what happened on my last 
birthday?"

Derek recalled that almost a year ago Jane had boxed a local girl 
called Anne in the very ring in which they now stood.  It had been a 
very one sided fight, with Jane taking a beating from the more 
experienced Anne.  
Towards the end of the fight, after some six rounds, he'd had to watch 
helplessly as she took solid punches to the breasts and face without 
retaliation.  As it was a fight to the finish he was unable to throw in 
the towel.  The end had finally cane in the eighth round when his Jane,  
her nose grotesquely broken, had slumped to the canvas covered in 
blood, her defeat complete and utter.  Memory of the sight of her lying 
on her hack, a bloody wreck still saddened him.   He shook himself from 
his reverie and, as he watched her beginning to remove her track suit, 
he casually asked her what treat she would like for her birthday this 
year.
Jane stood erect clad in tiny white bra and panties, her hands on her 
hips.

"I'd like a return match with Anne," Derek's jaw dropped, "but she half 
killed you, it took you days to get over that fight."
"That was a year ago, I'm a much better boxer now.  You said so 
yourself just a few minutes ago when I had you backing off, and look at 
my last couple of fights, two knockout wins and against fairly stiff 
opposition."
It was true, she had done a lot of work and come a long way in the year 
since her fight with Anne.  She had only been boxing for about six 
months when she had taken her on.  Anne had warned her that she was no 
beginner but Jane, a fit, strong woman in her early thirties had felt 
fairly confident, having won a very tough fight by a clean knockout 
only weeks earlier.  Now here she was only one year older but a great 
deal wiser.   Derek could tell from her stance and resolute attitude 
that he may as well resign himself to the rematch.
"Ok, if you think you're good enough I'll help you all I can, but first 
let me show you something."
From a drawer he took a small package which he upended on the table.
"These are some momentoes of that last fight, have a good look at them 
before you finally decide."
He spread out the polaroids he had taken of the two of them posing in 
the ring before the fight and those of her slumped, semi-conscious in 
her corner after she'd been knocked out.  Lastly he held up the tiny, 
white silk panties, the only thing they'd worn in the ring besides the 
boxing gloves.  She could still make out the dark crimson stain around 
the thin waist band.
"Do you still want to fight her again?"
"Well," Jane replied, "you're right it was a hard fight and I did get 
hurt, but I'm determined and I don't think she'll have it all her own 
way this time."
Derek shrugged and packed the photos and panties away carefully.
"I suppose you want to right on Saturday?"
"Oh yes let's give Anne a ring now and see if she will be able to make 
it."
Derek could hear the one sided conversation from the lounge as he began 
to tidy the exercise roan where the ring was set up.
  Minutes later Jane came back in, breathless.
"Yes, she can come and she'll bring her daughter as her second. I told 
her not to bother about any gear, so we'll have to buy new gloves and 
things."
"You'll have to buy new gloves and things, I'll just stick to getting 
the ring ready."
"I'll phone the sports shop first thing in the morning in case they 
have to order the gloves I have in mind," 
enthused Jane, "we've got five days left before the fight, you will 
help get me to the peak of fitness won't you?"
"Right, before we go to bed, get your track suit back on, we're going 
to do a few miles of roadwork," he grinned.


By Saturday afternoon Jane was like a cat on hot bricks.  She'd made 
Derek check the ring, lights and so on half a dozen times.
"Just relax love, there's nothing more you can do so why don't you  
take  a  shower and get changed  into something  cool?" 
"Yes, you're right, I think I'll put on that new tennis dress I got 
when I bought the gloves."

The doorbell rang and Jane leapt up to see if it was Anne. The three of 
them came into the lounge and Jane did the introductions.
 "You remember Anne, and this is her daughter Mandy, who's going to 
look after her."
"Hi Derek, I expect she's improved a lot since last year."
"I hope so," thought Jane, colouring up.
"I brought Mandy along because she is always on about boxing herself so 
I thought if she sees a serious fight then she can make her  mind  up  
whether  she  wants  to  be  a  boxer  or  not."
"Seems a good idea," agreed Derek,  "why don't you and Jane disappear 
upstairs to get changed and what not, while Handy and I have a chat?"

They talked for a while and Derek was impressed by her interest in the 
sport.
"Seeing as you're so keen on boxing, I'll see if I can dig out sane 
photos of Jane in action, hang on a minute."

In the hall Jane had already hung up Anne's heavy leather coat and was 
admiring her opponent's general appearance.  She looked great.  Anne's 
dark drown hair was much shorter than before, her white sleeveless 
blouse showed off her muscular, tanned arms and shoulders whilst 
straining over her full bosom at the front.  
Her fairly heavy hips were tightly encased in a short, black leather 
skirt and her solid legs in high black knee length boots.

"Come on up and we'll make a start on changing," suggested Jane, 
leading the way upstairs.
Anne watched Jane's powerful thighs working under the very short white 
tennis dress as she climbed the stairs.
"Let's relax for a few minutes before we get ready," sighed Anne, "had 
any fights since we met?"
Jane told her about the half dozen bouts she'd had, especially the last 
two, which she'd won by knockouts.
"How about you?" enquired Jane.
"Oh, I've had four fights so far this year, and won all but one and 
that was a draw, against a man."
"A fella, how did it go?" gasped Jane.
"I'll tell you later after the fight, come on let's get ready for the 
ring."
"You strip off," suggested Jane, "while I get the gear from next door."

When, a few minutes later, she returned Anne had taken off her blouse 
to reveal a white bra barely coping with her full breasts. She was bent 
forwards unzipping her long, leather boots, which made the bra's work 
even more difficult because her tits threatened to escape under the 
influence of gravity. She straightened, kicked off her boots and 
unzipped her skirt.  Jane sighed as the heavy black leather slid to the 
floor.  She remembered Anne's physique from a year ago and here she was 
again, thirty six years old now, and just as tanned, smooth 
and muscular, her thighs and shoulders almost as impressive as her- 
breasts, which she finally released from their prison.  This left her 
in a very brief pair of black lace panties. As Janet's gaze moved up to 
look at her bust something caught her eye.
"Hello, what's this?" she said pointing to Anne's large, dark nipples.
"Oh, the sleepers, yes I had my nipples pierced a couple of weeks after 
our fight, what do you think?"
"I think they're lovely, you must tell me all about it after. Are you 
going to take then out for the fight.... we are boxing topless aren't 
we?"
"Oh yes," Anne grinned, "well I've left them in for all my  other 
fights and I've had no problems, what about my pants though, will they 
be ok?"
"Well, I've got something for you," said Jane and tossed over a bag.  
Anne shook out the contents.
"Oh, white boxing gloves, I've never worn white ones before.  Are they 
six ouncers, they look very small?"
"Oh yes, six ouncers," said Jane, "look inside them."
Anne did as she was told and found the tiny white g-string that Jane 
had tucked inside one of the gloves.
"I forgot your daughter was coming," mumbled Jane, "perhaps you'd 
rather wear something else?"
"Oh no," smiled Anne, "two firsts, white gloves and a g-string. You may 
have to help me on with it though."
While she rolled her black panties down her powerful thighs Jane took 
the g-string and bent so that she could step into it.  In doing so she 
came face to face with Anne's clean-shaven pubis.
"It's strange how all us boxing girls shave between the legs," she 
thought.
She carefully pulled the flimsy vee of white silk up into Anne's crotch 
then reached round behind her and pushed the backstring firmly into the 
cleft between her rounded buttocks.
"How does that feel?" she asked.
"Great," replied Anne, "lovely and cool, really great."
"Here," said Jane, "I'll make it even cooler."
Tipping sane oil onto her finger tips, she pulled the silk away from 
Anne's cunt and rubbed it into the bare lips and mound before patting 
the material back into place.   Anne looked down,  her adorned nipples 
were jutting out thickly and she could also see the clear outline or 
her bare slit under the moist g-string.
"Ok Jane, now you."
"Unzip me then."
The thin dress came off to reveal a much stockier Jane than she 
remembered, her heavy breasts enclosed in a light green bra.  The bra 
unfastened at the front and Jane massaged her great tits while Anne 
tugged the emerald green silk panties down her parted legs.
"Is your string in your gloves?" she asked.
Jane nodded.
Soon they stood side by side in front of the mirror.  The only clothing 
between them and complete nakedness were the two tiny scraps of already 
sodden white silk.
"Almost there," soothed Jane, "but you'd better tie my hair back, 
there's a ribbon on the bed."
Anne got the white ribbon and, having pulled her long, blonde hair into 
a severe pony tail, fastened it up.
"Just the gloves, we don't need our hands bandaged do we?" asked Anne.
"No," said Jane, "just the gloves."
The moment she most savoured had almost arrived.  They slipped their 
white silky dressing gowns over their bare shoulders, picked up their 
boxing gloves and went downstairs.

Derek and Mandy turned to see them, barefoot, with the gowns hanging 
loosely over their glowing bodies.
"All ready?" he asked.
They walked into the gym roam.  Mandy's eyes widened when she saw the 
ring.   The two women ducked through the ropes and went to opposite 
corners.  Mandy went over to her mother and Anne gave her the gloves 
she was to use for the fight.
"Lovely aren't they?" said Anne, "I've never even seen white boxing 
gloves before, let alone worn them."
"Yes, they really are beautiful, so soft and smooth," replied Mandy.
"They may be smooth, but they'll be anything but soft," thought Anne.
Mandy finished tying on the gloves and her mother punched the palm of 
each hand to settle them onto her fists.
"They feel lethal," she groaned to herself.
They were hard little gloves, with very little padding over the 
knuckles, she wondered if Jane's were the same.
"I'll find out soon enough I suppose," she shuddered.
In bending forwards slightly the front of her gown had fallen open 
enough for Mandy to see the glint of gold on the end of one of her 
mother's bare breasts.
"What's that?" she asked coyly.
Anne cupped her left breast in both gloved hands and withdrew it into 
the bright light.
Mandy gasped, "I didn't know you'd had that done."
"I don't tell you everything," her mother said, grinning.
"Now is everything ready.  Towels, water and so on?"
"Yes," said Mandy.
"Ready here too," called Derek.

He'd wished her luck as he'd laced the cruel little boxing gloves onto 
his wife's fists.
The moment that Jane loved had arrived, she was flushed and panting 
slightly.  The preparations were exciting, the boxing hard and 
stimulating, but the moment when the gloves were bound onto her hands 
was heaven for her.  She lifted than up to her face yet again and drank 
in the sharp, distinctive smell of the new leather.
She sighed.
"Now she's ready..... for what?" he wondered.
As they had an automatic bell for the timekeeping, Derek was able to 
stay in the ring as referee.  There were no real decisions to be made 
so Anne thought this fair enough.  He called the big women out to the 
centre of the ring.  They stood erect, gloves clasping the openings of 
their gowns while he reminded them of the rules.  
It was to be a fight to the finish, three minute rounds with one 
minute's rest in between.  In the event of a knockdown the other girl 
would go to a neutral corner.  The below the belt rule was not to 
apply, they could hit and be hit anywhere on the front of the head and 
body.  The two women boxers touched gloves, bent forwards and lightly kissed each 
other on the lips, then they turned to walk back to their corners.  At 
the same moment they slid their gowns off to reveal their almost naked 
state.  Derek gasped when he saw his wife, her oil slicked g-string all 
but transparent, but his eyes riveted onto Anne's great tits with the 
gold pins driven through the stiff, engorged teats.
"They both look terribly fit and strong," he thought, "this is going to 
be some scrap."
Mandy ogled her mother's bare ass and scantily covered pussy. She began 
to feel positively overdressed.  
Grabbing the bottom of her sweater she tugged it out of the waistband 
of her jeans and over her head.  She was left in the very tight jeans 
and an even tighter white bra, her plump, youthful breasts spilling 
out over the inadequate cups.

"Big busts seem to run in the family," thought Derek.


The bell rang suddenly and the two women danced towards one another, 
breasts swaying, gloves up, elbows in, all that could be heard was the 
shuffle of their bare feet on the canvas and their light breathing.  
Throughout the first round they circled warily, flicking out correct 
left leads to the face, some of them connecting well to send heads 
snapping back.  The round ended and they returned to their corners.
"How is it?" asked Derek.
"Nothing's happened yet," answered a smiling Jane, "that was only the 
first round don't forget.  Just put the sponge over the back of my neck 
and stop worrying."
The second round began with a good old-fashioned one, two to Jane's 
mouth and Anne grinned when she examined her right glove, there was a 
smear of red just over the knuckle part, first blood.
"An omen?" she wondered.
Jane tasted the salt on her lips as blood began to trickle down her 
chin.
"0h well, you expect a little blood in a boxing match," she thought, 
shrugging it off.
Anne came at her again and, with one glove up to her damaged mouth, the 
other across her breasts, Anne's clear target was her belly.   She sent 
a left uppercut arcing viciously into Jane's midriff.  Her breath 
whistled between her clenched teeth, sending little flecks of blood 
flying from her lips.   She dropped her gloves lower so the dark haired girl threw a 
cracking right hander into her mouth again.  The crimson trickle 
running down her chin increased and she back pedalled away from Anne.  
For the whole of the round Jane was on the defensive while Anne came 
forward, a tide of incoming white leather.   With the sheer number of 
punches thrown, some were bound to get through but, luckily for the 
blonde, not too many.  Most of the punches hit Jane's arms and 
shoulders.  At the bell it was a punched out, tired Anne that plonked 
herself down on her stool.  Her arms ached from all that hitting.  She 
was sweating profusely and, as she sat there panting hard, it looked as 
if the only thing she wore were the little white boxing gloves, so 
sodden and tight was her tiny g-string.
Jane, on the other hand, apart from her messy mouth, looked quite 
relaxed.
But Derek said, "well you got through one round without getting 
bloodied."
He moved to wipe her chin and the tops of her breasts but 
Jane stayed his arm.
"No, that's alright Anne and I have agreed not to get cleaned up till 
the fight's over."
"'Ok,  seems  a bit strange to me,  but  it's your  fight...."
"You could sponge me here," she pouted, indicating her shoulders where 
red weals were already beginning to appear after so much attention from 
Anne's gloves.
Anne herself was soon much recovered and she pointed out the red 
smudges of Jane's blood marring the pristine whiteness of her white 
leathers.
"I wonder what they'll look like by the end of the fight?" thought 
Mandy.
The third round was much like the first, with both women circling 
warily,  flicking out  correct,  crisp left  leads whenever  the 
opportunity presented itself.  It was a classic round really with both 
boxers giving and taking some stinging punches.  Still neither girl had 
taken a punch in the breasts.  At the bell both turned sharply and went 
briskly to their corners, they seemed to be warming to their work.
Mandy noticed a small trickle of blood coming from the corner of her 
mother's mouth.  She pulled back her lips  and  there  were  several   
small   cuts   inside.
"That's alright," said Anne, and she told Mandy not to bother wiping 
the blood away.
"All I want you to do is sponge the back of my neck and give me the 
water bottle when I ask for it, ok?"
"Alright Mum," replied Mandy, quite relieved at not having to tend her 
mother's injuries.
Jane's mouth had stopped bleeding so Derek did nothing whilst she sat 
back, gloves on the middle rope, legs stretched out in front of her, 
making the most of the minute's rest.  The first punch of the fourth 
round brought the total number of blows to the breasts to one, when Jane's 
hard glove buried itself in the centre of Anne's left tit with a resounding smack.  
The tit swelled up around the glove and her nipple was forced back into 
her ribcage.  In true boxing fashion, although she grunted loudly, the 
brunette bobbed back and kept Jane from taking too much advantage while 
she recovered   from   the   searing   pain   in   her   breast.
"The first tit punches in any womens' boxing match are always the 
worst," she thought.
It was true, in all her fights she'd noticed this.  The first few 
punches to the breasts, even if they weren't the hardest in the fight, 
seemed to hurt the most.  Perhaps it was something to do with reaching 
a plateau of pain or maybe once hit the adrenaline started to pump faster 
and you could bear more pain.  But, just at the moment, her left breast 
ached and, as it wobbled and swayed with her movement around the ring, it felt twice 
it's normal size. 
She glanced down and saw it flaring red around the studded nipple where 
Jane's hard little boxing glove had thwacked home.   Jane tried another 
of the same but the dark haired girl pulled her upper body back to let 
the glove pass in front or her.   Whilst her opponent's arm was across 
her body Anne threw a perfect short, straight right into the centre of 
Jane's beautiful face.  The glove flattened her nose and brought tears 
welling into her eyes.  Blood too spurted from both nostrils, 
spattering the upper slopes of her massive breasts. 
 Jane covered up, she could taste the blood in her throat and she could 
see the tops of her tits and cleavage being splashed with her blood.  
But she too, as she had been trained to, stayed on her toes and 
concentrated on her boxing.  Before the round ended Jane managed to 
increase the crimson flow from her opponent's mouth whilst her own 
bleeding nose abated somewhat.  The bell rang and both fighters went 
thankfully to their corners.  Anne sank onto her 
stool and got Mandy to fan her with a towel whilst Jane reclined on her 
stool in an attempt to get her head back far enough to stop the steady 
drip from her nostrils.  Her shoulders and upper arms were smeared 
with blood as well as her breasts where Anne's  relentless  boxing  gloves  had  
spread  it  around.
"Are you sure you're alright?" asked Derek when he surveyed the damage 
to his wife's face.
"Of course, it's only a nosebleed, nothing's broken."
"Don't you want me to clean you up a bit, you may have several more 
rounds to go yet?"
"No I'm ok," replied Jane with a thin and not entirely convincing 
smile.
Meanwhile Mandy had mentioned to her mother that her breasts were 
looking pretty sore where Jane had hit her.
"You're right they are painful, bloody painful but I'm going to make 
damn sure she gets a few belts in the tits in the next round."
They stood ready for the bell to start the fifth.

The round could indeed have been dubbed the battle of the busts. As 
both boxers were large breasted, both around 38DD they presented one 
another with a fairly easy target, easy that is unless you were taking 
punches there yourself.  That is how the round began, one girl 
attacking the other's tits then vice versa, and that is how the round 
ended.   Breasts were flattened, battered, bruised and even smashed 
one into the other as fierce punches knocked them from side to side.  
The recipient of the blows squealed, grunted or moaned but, as soon 
as the attack was over, back she came and countered, using exactly the 
same tactics. 
 The punching had been almost exclusively to the bare breasts and at 
the end of the round, although the girls had suffered no more facial 
damage, the pain they were bearing was writ large on their grimacing 
faces and bloated breasts.  
Despite her protestations Derek laid a cool sponge on his wife's 
bruised breasts.
"Your tits really are too big for boxing you know, "he pleaded.
"I gave as good as I got," she moaned, "besides, her's are as big as 
mine and if she can stand it, so can I."
When Anne sat down Mandy was shocked to see how bruised and swollen her 
mother's breasts were in particular she noticed a drop of blood on the 
left nipple were a glancing blow had caught the gold stud, tearing the 
teat slightly.
"You ought to let me take these sleepers out, here let me."
"No, it's all right, I said I'd fight with them in, to go back on it 
would mean a loss of face. Besides it's only a little cut, I've had 
worse cuts around my nipples, you know that."
Mandy blushed and looked again at her mother's pain filled tits. True, 
her nipples were very long and fleshy and, although they were extremely 
sensitive, usually staying erect throughout a fight, now they were 
flat, the studs being barely visible at the ends of the swollen bags of 
bruised tit flesh.  All she could do was gently to pat her mother's 
chest with a damp sponge then, all too soon the bell went for round 
six.   Neither woman showed any sign of tiredness as they danced from 
their corners.  Their breasts must have hurt like hell though as they 
bounced and jiggled.  They began by standing off, jabbing at each 
other, going for the head as if a tacit agreement had been reached that 
their  tits had suffered enough for a while. Another really hard 
straight right brought fresh blood squirting from the blonde's nose. 
She dabbed at it with her tiny boxing gloves but only succeeded in 
getting red gore all over them and her forearms.  Her blood ran down 
her cleavage, over her flat, brown belly and began to soak the sweaty 
triangle of silk covering her shaven slit.        

"Derek was right," she sighed, "just like last time, I'm covered in 
blood from head to foot."
But perhaps spurred on by her pain, she ploughed back into her attacker 
managing to half push, half punch her into a neutral corner.
   Anne, sensibly, covered her face with her gloves and stood, 
crouching slightly while the blonde slammed punch after heavy punch 
into her belly and ribs.  Some punches even caught her lower down and 
she gasped as she felt Jane's hard leather gloves smack into her pussy, 
thinly covered by the damp material of her silk g-string. Jane's head 
was by now on her opponent's shoulder as she continued her barrage of 
blows to the body, she noticed a trickle of the blood from her nose 
running down over Anne's heaving back.  Flushed with anger, she stood 
back, fists held ready at hip level, waiting for the dark girl to open 
up.  After a couple of seconds her gloves came away from her face, she 
was wondering why the punishment had suddenly stopped.  
She saw the glove coming but couldn't cover up again in time.  It was a 
long swinging right that crashed heavily into the side of her face.  
She stood, still bent forwards for a split second then she fell flat 
onto the canvas, her breasts smacking into the floor boards.  Every 
part of her seemed to be crying out in agony, especially between her 
legs and her face, but now the fire in her breasts ate at her stunned brain. 
Jane leaned on a cornerpost admiring her handiwork, she was glad of a 
rest.  Sweat generated by the prolonged fury of punching ran into her 
eyes and her breath seared her lungs as she panted helplessly. When her 
opponent rolled over onto her side she could see a great red weal on her temple.
"She'll have a nice shiner there," she thought.
As she struggled to rise the bell went.  She flopped back onto the 
canvas,  realising that she had a minute now to make the scratch.
  Derek motioned Mandy, who was standing transfixed at her mother's 
corner, to come into the ring to help her.  She managed to half drag 
her to the stool onto which she sank, her head between her knees like a 
rag doll.  Mandy massaged her shoulders and neck, all the time pleading 
for her to be allowed to throw in the towel.
"You can see the state Jane's in, she croaked, "I'm just getting some  
of my own medicine,  that's what  boxing is all about."
"You'll never make 'a good boxer if you think you're going to have your 
own way all the time."
"I'm not sure I'd enjoy this kind of boxing, it seems very rough to 
me."
Anne patted her bare forearm with her blood spattered boxing glove.
Derek, realising that his wife had come within an ace of knocking out 
her opponent, was eagerly giving her the advice to come out fighting 
and nail Anne straight away.  Anne, in her corner, knew enough of 
ringcraft to realise what she would be up against when she came out for 
the seventh.  Sure enough, at the bell, Jane came storming out of her 
corner.  Though battered and bloody, she looked more dangerous now than 
at any time in the fight so far.  She moved on the balls of her feet 
and there was a gleam in her eye.
 Anne, on the other hand, looked very wary, keeping her guard up with 
her elbows across her breasts.  Jane was left with the lower half of 
her opponent's torso as a target.   She put her head down and charged  
at Anne.   With gloves thudding into her belly Anne unsuccessfully 
aimed blows at the top of her antagonist's head. Punch after punch 
landed in her lower abdomen and a couple even caught her in the pussy, 
she squealed as her labial lips were mashed against her pubic bone.  
After a while the blonde realised that Anne was no longer trying to hit 
her.  She lifted her head and straightened a little, Anne's head 
slipped from her shoulder and her face ended up between Jane's bloody 
breasts.  The dark haired girl's hands slid from around Jane's neck 
and she slid down her body, leaving a smear or blood from her mouth as 
it brushed over the blonde's hard belly and panties.  Her knees hit 
the canvas, her gloves clasped Jane's shiny buttocks, her face was laid 
on a firm, sweaty thigh. 
  Jane pulled her right fist back and smashed her glove into Anne's 
nose.  Blood sprang from her nostrils to run down her thighs.  Slowly 
she slid to the floor.  She lay in a crumpled heap for several seconds then 
straightened, her left hand slipping between her thighs trying to ease 
some of the pain from her crotch.  She rolled slowly onto her side, 
Derek still hadn't begun a count, still this was a right to the finish 
wasn't it?  
Anne's eyes were open.    
"Had enough?" he asked.
She shook her head slowly and blood poured from her nose to splash onto 
the once white' canvas.  Jane went to her corner and sat down, tired 
after nearly a minute or nonstop punching.
   Derek signalled for Mandy to came into the ring and try to revive 
her mother  again.  She managed to get her sitting up in the 
middle of the ring.  She was horrified at the state she was in. The 
front of her was covered in blood, her ribs and sides were bright red 
where Jane's cruel, hard gloves had impacted.  Her eyes were glazed and 
she still had her gloves grasped between her legs.
"How is this going to end?" begged Jane, "twice I've knocked her 
senseless and it's still not finished."  
"When she says she's had enough, then we'll call it quits, until then 
you fight..  It would be the same for you." 

Jane's face had stopped bleeding and she rinsed her mouth with cool 
water.
"How do you feel?" asked Derek.
"I'm not hurting too much," said Jane, "but my arms are aching and my 
tits are sore."  
"Can't you wear a bra next time?"
"I'm not sure that would be such a good idea, at least they can ride a 
punch that's not head on."
"Let's have a look at the gloves," sighed Derek.
Jane held her fists out.   The gloves were almost completely reddened 
with blood, but there was no sign of damage to the soft leather.   He 
glanced up into his wife's eyes, he could see the glint of victory.  He 
turned and went to where Anne was slumped in her corner.  Her gloves 
were cupped over her sticky thighs, they too were blood-sodden, but 
intact.  Blood was splashing onto her heaving breasts, her face 
grimaced in pain.
"Are you ok?"
"I'm not in the rudest of health," she croaked through ragged and 
bleeding lips, "but I'll be out for the next round."
Derek admired her indomitable courage, after all she had been battered 
from head to pussy.  He ignored her protests and laid a cool sponge on 
her bleeding left nipple.  The drop of blood was soaked up immediately.
"That's the least of my problems," she moaned, slipping one of her 
gloves inside the vee of her g-string and rubbing herself.
Mandy took the sponge and gently massaged her mother's mound through 
the thin material.  Much more than a minute had passed, the bell had 
already rung.                
"It won't hurt for them to box a short round," he thought.
He went to the centre of the ring and called the girls out.  Anne eased 
herself from the  floor as Jane  jumped from her  stool.
"I must keep out of trouble," thought Anne, "or it will be third time 
lucky for her."
She glanced over and a thin smile played across Jane's face.  She came 
roaring after Anne, her soiled gloves flailing wildly.
Anne thought, "I must keep on my toes and box her."
Jane had completely lost her cool and was wasting valuable energy in 
throwing punches that weren't hitting the target.  In one of her wild 
two fisted flurries she left her torso wide open.  Anne dug a beautiful 
short right smack into her navel.  The punch caught her completely 
unprepared, her abdominal muscles were slack.   She gagged with the unexpected pain, 
dropped her left glove and began to back pedal.  Instead or following 
up immediately, Anne just kept her at a distance, coming forward, 
jabbing for the rest of the round.  The comparatively easy round had 
been good for Anne.  She still looked a mess as she plonked herself onto 
the stool, but at least the pain between her legs had eased and her 
nose wasn't bleeding quite so badly.  
Jane looked none the worse for the round either.
"Phew, that punch to my guts nearly turned the tables, I was nowhere 
near ready for that."
"I told you to go out and finish it," snapped Derek, "not run around 
punching thin air.  You're lucky she is  tired, or it would have been 
all over for you."
"Right, sponge my back will you," said Jane, leaning forwards on her 
stool.
After her back had been rubbed down she took a long swig from the water 
bottle then stood,  smacking her gloves together very determinedly.   
They came together warily at the start of round nine, the only sound 
was their heavy breathing and pad of their bare feet on the spattered 
canvas.  Their g-strings, sodden as they were with blood and sweat, 
were very tight, their swollen mounds clearly visible through the thin 
silk.  The small balls of crimson stained white leather were poised, 
ready to deal out pain and suffering to both girls.   Anne was the 
first to be hit as the opponent caught her square in the mouth with a 
solid straight right.  Her lips mashed against her straight teeth and 
fresh blood began to run down her chin.  Her eyes watered and for a few 
moments it seemed she was crying.  She was not.  She was wondering how to repay 
Jane for the stinging pain in her mouth.  Her moment came when Jane 
tried the same straight right, she jinked her head to one side, the 
glove whistled over her shoulder, the punch left the right side of 
Jane's body unprotected.  Anne dropped her right fist to thigh level 
then threw it up in a searing arc into the blonde's right breast.  The 
glove hit just below the nipple and the whole breast was smashed up, 
into her shoulder.  Her arms dropped to her sides and she stood, 
transfixed while Anne followed up with another punch to her right tit.  
A straight right this time with all her weight behind it.   The fist 
thudded into the nipple, the flesh swelling out around the glove. 
  Jane's jaw dropped and, as she sagged to the canvas, Anne caught her 
in the mouth with a vicious short uppercut.  Her head snapped back and 
she settled to a sitting position in one of the neutral corners.  Blood 
ran from her mouth and she  cradled her damaged breast in her gloved 
hand.   The previously marble white flesh was mottled with blue 
bruising and the breast was clearly swollen. 
Derek stood over her.
"You alright?"
"Yeah, a bit sore and my nipple has begun to bleed a little."
He pulled the glove away from her breast and was shocked to see red blood 
bubbling from the milk tract, splashing onto her thigh.
"Right, that's it, I'm putting a stop to this right now.  Look at the 
state of you." 
"Anne's no oil painting," whimpered Jane "it's a fair fight isn't it? 
Neither of us is done yet."
There was still more than a minute to go before the bell as she used 
the middle rope to pull herself upright.  
Anne came straight for her, she covered up in the, corner.  Her body 
rocked as Anne clubbed her round the head. The brunette's heavy breasts 
bobbed and swayed as she laid into the blonde.  She came to the 
conclusion that her punches weren't hurting enough for the energy she 
was putting into them.  Changing tactics, she' began to belabour Jane 
with left and right uppercuts to the belly.   Her legs parted slightly 
and she smashed a particularly vicious right uppercut up between the  
blonde's legs just as the bell rang. 
 Jane pitched forwards onto the deck, her breasts thudding into the 
canvas. "That serves you right for the pain in my pants," Jane sneered.
 Derek looked down at his wife's bare, quivering bum as she bore the 
pain just meted out to her.
 He knelt down and rolled her over onto her back. She was crying. Tears 
ran down her temple.
"Christ, that hurts," she sobbed.
He went back to her corner and returned with some ice cubes wrapped in 
a damp flannel. 
 He pulled the bloody vee of her g string aside and laid the cool 
flannel on her inflamed vaginal lips.  
Jane moaned softly and pushed off the floor with her boxing gloves, her 
arms straight out behind her.  She shook her head and drops of her face 
blood splashed her swollen breasts.  After half a minute or so he 
removed the flannel and pulled the material back over her raw cunt.  
She swung her legs round slowly and, using the ropes, painfully pulled 
herself upright.  Derek had no choice but to stand aside and watch, he 
knew she'd snap at him if he tried to help.  As she stood, propped in 
the corner, swaying slightly the bell rang for the beginning of round 
ten.
Mandy watched her mother leave her corner.
"There isn't too much blood on her back", she mused, "except that from 
Jane's nose earlier on."   
She noted how taut her mum's bare bum was as she strode across the, 
ring.  She flew at the blonde again, but this time Jane didn't cover up 
and somehow she managed to ride most of Anne's punches. Indeed after 
about half a minute she was standing up to her and even countering some 
of her punches.  Both girls seemed to summon up strength from somewhere 
and the round developed into a very good series of  exchanges, jabs with 
the occasional 
straight rights. Throughout the round the punching had been exclusively 
to the head so when the bell ended hostilities both girl boxers were 
again bleeding copiously from the nose and mouth.  Both too still had 
blood seeping from a breast, Anne's left and  Jane's right.
"That was terrific," enthused Mandy, "after half an hour of boxing you 
both managed to fight a round like that, it's amazing." The round of 
boxing had inspired Mandy and she forgot, temporarily, the previous 
inter round breaks when she had begged her mother to let her stop the 
fight.
"Are you sure you wouldn't like me to clean you up a bit mum?"
"No it's not worth it now, there'll be plenty of time when it's all 
over."
"That was a great round," said Derek as his wife sagged down onto her 
stool.
There was a pleasant slapping sound as her bare, sweaty bum plonked 
onto the stool.  Fresh blood was running down her front again, between 
her breasts and on down into her crotch.  When she stood for round 
eleven he noticed a smear of blood on the seat of the white stool.
"You're not bleeding down there are you?" he groaned, looking down at 
the now red vee of her g-string.
"No, don't be silly, I'm sure it's all coming from my nose and mouth."
When she walked out to face up to Anne, in the centre of the ring, he 
could see crimson running down the inside of her meaty thighs, and so 
wasn't convinced by her offhand dismissal.   The first punch of the 
round made Anne's knees buckle, another of Jane' a haymakers to the side of the head.  
She managed to stay on her feet but back pedalled around the ring while 
her opponent followed, firing leather shells at her face and breasts.   
Anne struggled on bravely but spent the rest of the round on the defensive.  
She just couldn't get back into the fight.  
Seconds before the bell she was in a corner doing her best to fight her 
off when Jane threw another of her devastating haymakers.  This time it 
was aimed at Anne's bosom.  The hard glove tore into her breasts, 
pounding the left tit into the right and scraping across the already 
damaged nipple.  The gold bar tore out and blood welled from the tear 
to run into the palm of her right boxing glove as she cupped her 
bleeding breast.  She felt faint and, if Mandy had not come out of her 
shocked trance quickly enough, would have gone to the canvas.  
She led her mother to the stool and gently eased her down.
"I'll have to wipe it up a bit," she whispered, "we must see how bad it 
is."
Derek came over with the blood smeared stud, giving it to Mandy.
"Right, let's have a look Anne, if it's too bad I'll stop this."
"It's only a tiny cut," she pouted.
Derek knew that nipples, engorged with blood like her's were, bled a 
great deal when cut.  "Ok, see if you can stop it bleeding Mandy, I'll 
keep an eye on that," he promised.
"I've really got her going, she can hardly stand," gloated Jane.
"You  said  that  about  four rounds  ago,"  grunted Derek.
Some of the sparkle went out or her eyes, but not much.  Jane stormed 
out for the twelfth, her swollen, bruised and bloody breasts jiggling  
as  she advanced  on  the  battered  brunette.
"This has got to be the last round," thought Derek when he saw fresh 
blood pouring from Anne's tit.
Jane went straight for the damaged breast.  The blow made him wince, 
Jane smile and Anne gasp in agony.
"If this is womens' boxing," he thought, "then I'm glad I'm a bloke."
Anne was still rooted to the spot, blood running from her burst breast, 
down over her left thigh.  Jane stood off and smashed a right uppercut 
into the centre or Anne's hanging head.  It seemed to came from the 
floor.  There was an audible crack as her nose broke and then blood 
cascaded down over her front.  She tottered, but still she didn't go down.  
Another of Jane's haymakers to the jaw changed that though and she spun 
into the ropes falling in a tangled heap of bare arms and legs.  Derek 
rushed forward 
to pull his wife off her fallen friend.
"Ok, calm down.. Back to your corner, it's all over."
Reluctantly she returned to her corner and draped herself over the top 
rope, watching the beaten woman.   
Derek began to disentangle Anne from the ropes.   
Jane marched back over.
"I thought you said that she had to say when she's had enough?" she 
said, cruelly mocking the brunette.
"I don't think she'1l be able to say very much for a while," he replied 
testily.
She's bloody well staying in this ring till she does," said Jane
truculently.	
Derek laid Anne carefully on her back, and propped her head up on a 
folded towel to try to stop her swallowing too much blood. Slowly she 
began to stir.  Mandy, up till now helpless, brought some of the 
icecubes over and held them on the bridge of her mother's gushing nose.  
Her eyes opened slowly and the serene look left her face as her pain 
returned. "Can you get up?" he asked.
"I think so," she groaned.
He and Mandy helped her to her shaky feet.
He coughed.
"I'm afraid Jane wants you to say you've had enough," he said 
apologetically.
"That's ok," mumbled Anne.
She laid her sodden boxing gloves out before her, palm up.  
Jane grasped them in her's.
"The  best woman won."
Suddenly all the tension left the blonde.  The fight was over. She knew 
she'd won.  She sank down onto her shaking knees, her bloody boxing 
gloves bunched on her thighs and sobbed.  The crying seemed  to purge 
her system and, after a while, she was up and asking Derek to get her 
out of her soggy gloves.  But the gloves were so wet with blood and sweat..
" Come on both of you, upstairs I'll have to cut them off.”  
But before they left the ring the blonde embraced her opponent tenderly 
and kissed her full on the lips, their blood mingled.
"Strange breed, women," thought Derek.
All three led Anne up the stairs, she wouldn't have made it on her own.  
The boxers still just in g-strings and gloves, their gowns all but 
forgotten.
"They don't look the proud beauties they did before the fight," sighed 
Derek to himself.
He quickly removed their clothes from where they' d left them on the 
twin beds and motioned the two spent boxers to lie down.  They 
gratefully sank down on the eiderdowns.   Anne closed her eyes hoping 
consciousness would slip away again and take away the pain in her face 
and tits.  It didn't.  Jane turned to look at her.  She could hardly 
admire her handiwork, besides she was in little better shape herself.  
Mandy soon came in with bowls or warm water, towels and flannels.   
Derek bent, scissors in hand to cut the sodden boxing gloves from 
his wife's aching fists.  She sighed when he finally pulled them off.
"We'll have to try to get them cleaned," she croaked, working her 
bruised  hands  by  clenching  and  unclenching  her  fists.
"You couldn't cut this string off too could you?  It's cutting into me 
terribly."
He snipped both side strings then draped a towel over her middle before 
gently tugging the material out from between her legs.  She sighed 
again, deeply.  He repeated the operation on Anne's reddened gloves, 
but left her panties for her daughter to sort out.  The blood was 
beginning to dry on their bodies now except for Anne's nose and teat 
which were still pumping.
"We'll have to get them cleaned up a bit Mandy, then I'm afraid it's 
casualty for your Mum.  I can get Jane to stitch her nipple but her 
nose will need to be properly set."
They went to work on the boxers and soon the water in the bowls was 
scarlet.  After a quarter of an hour or so Jane stood up, the towel 
falling away, leaving her stark naked.   Her bruised body still looked 
incredibly beautiful.  She glanced at the pale blue bra she had worn 
before the right, but decided it would be too painful.  
So she tugged on her tiny panties and went to get sane jeans from her 
drawer.
"My god," she shuddered, "my tits hurt like hell."
She finished dressing choosing a thin, white blouse.  It was very loose 
fitting, ideal in the circumstances But Derek couldn't help noticing, 
after a while, a crimson patch over her right breast, where blood still 
seeped from her rent nipple.  If he could have seen the blood soaking 
into the cotton gusset of panties he'd have known he'd have to do 
without sex for a day or two.  Anne looked much better but she still 
had a plug of cotton wool in each nostril.  When Jane came back, she 
carried some instruments on a tray.
"It's Ok," Derek assured her, "Jane is a nursing sister, but you 
wouldn't think so from the way she treated you in the ring."
She expertly stitched up the cut breast while Anne lay wincing with the 
pain, despite the anaesthetic spray which she had used. Jane finally 
taped a pad over the nipple and, raising her to a sitting position, 
carefully put Anne's white bra back on over her swollen breasts.
"Sorry," she whispered, "but we don't want them wobbling around too 
much.  I'll be putting mine back on as soon as the swelling's gone down 
a bit.  You should able to put the stud back in  the morning.  Unless you 
want to get it re-pierced."   
"Yes, that's an idea.  Give me a ring soon and I'll go with you and get 
mine done at the same time."
She stood Anne up, pulled on her little panties for her and then left 
her to put on the rest of her clothes.  As they walked to the car Anne 
turned to Derek.

"You realise that it's one all now.