Ring Pull II	
By Smac.
Two young girls in an unusual boxing match.

Corrected 2/07/2001

Saturday came round again. Anne, unable to train, had welcomed the two girls' 
arrival earlier in the afternoon.
During the week since Anne's vicious fight with Claire the two girls who'd taken 
up the challenge to use the chain had outlined their ideas to her at the gym.
Now they waited for the evening and the arrival of the other women boxers at the 
club.
"You're both too young," sighed the brunette.
"But it's the ultimate isn't it, someone in the club ought to go for it." 
Anne looked dispassionately at the two girls.
Tracey, twenty was a petite, but beautifully formed girl with dark straw 
coloured hair with a tendency to red. She was a very popular member of the 
group, with her good looks and clothes sense she could always be prevailed upon 
to give good advice on beauty and fashion to the others.
The other girl, also Tracey was twenty one, about the same size, but known as 
Trev, due to her tomboy ways and ultra short hair style. Needless to say, she 
was a jeans and t shirt girl.
They were both lookers though and, despite their diminutive stature, big up 
front, a very respectable 36D bra size each.
They had seemed to be the best of friends always and it was only a few months 
before that Anne had found out that they shared a flat in the nearby town.
"We think we should do it now, while we're young and foolish," half joked Trev.
"Is this what they talk about when they're in their flat together?" Anne 
wondered, "it was boys when I was their age."
She shook her head and tutted.
She began to unbutton her loose blouse.
Very gently she manoeuvred her huge right breast out for them.
The stitches were still in, dozens of them. Their long tails clinging to the 
gossamer material of her blouse. The whole tit looked red and angry. 
The girls were particularly amazed to see a steel ring still hanging amongst the 
dried blood and stitches.
Tracey commented on it.
"Yes, and what's more I have to keep it on the move to stop it sticking."
She seized the opportunity and, gritting her teeth, held her breast gently with 
her left hand whilst trying to turn the large ring with her right thumb and 
forefinger.
It was as painful for them to watch as it was for her to do it.
She ended up having to use quite a lot of force to get the ring to move at all.
Finally she had to part her legs wide so that the drops of blood didn't fall 
onto her beige leather trousers.
Swallowing hard, Trev passed her a handful of tissues.
"It's going to take a while isn't it?" suggested Tracey.
"About six weeks last time before the piercing was back to normal, and another 
six weeks before I could put the gloves on again.
Trev shuddered, "you've done this before!"
"Yes, but of course you're too young to have seen it."
Anne absentmindedly dabbed at her still bleeding teat as she told them about the 
first time she'd done it.
"Me and this girl Wendy, she doesn't live round here any longer, we must have 
both been about thirty then. We'd both done most things in the ring, all the 
different weights of gloves and so on and fights to a finish and all. We were 
both pierced and had even boxed with our rings in a couple of times, then one 
day she Just rang me up out of the blue and suggested the chain. I was bloody 
scared, but I couldn't let her know it could I. Anyway we did it, here in this 
very room. She hit me in the face so hard in the second round she broke my nose, 
I went down and out came my nipple ring. I was unconscious at the time, hardly 
felt a thing, but when she saw what she'd done she didn't want to go so she got 
my girl to throw in the towel. 
The doctor was so shocked he made me promise never to do it again, but that 
Claire, I had to."
"So he wasn't very pleased that you'd broken your promise ?' offered Trev.
"Three times over," said Anne, "but he's mellowed lately, did a good job I 
reckon."
She gave her nipple one last wipe up before carefully restoring her swollen 
breast to her blouse and buttoning up.
"You realise that going in like you want to means that one of you for sure will 
lose both rings, probably both of you, in double quick time."
What they wanted to do was to get into the boxing ring wearing four ounce 
leather gloves, with their nipple rings in.
That had been done before.
But they were going to have a short length of chain, Tracey had suggested about 
ten inches, running from nipple to nipple across their own chests.
The implications were obvious.
The first punch, of almost any kind to the tits would rip out one or possibly 
both of the rings. Then, if it HAD only been the single ring, the girl would 
have to fight on with a length of chain hanging from her other breast. A shorter 
length than Anne had ended up with last week true, but a harrowing prospect none 
the less. And the other girl, even a fairly frail punch from the other boxer 
could still do exactly the same to her.
It was cruel, too cruel for Anne.
"No, I still don't like it."
"You want us to do it here don't you?"
The underlying meaning was obvious, they were going to do it anyway.
Anne chewed her bottom lip.
She had to say yes, at least they'd be properly looked after at her place. 
"If you're sure you want to do it, but I shall still keep trying to put you 
off." 
She made a start.
"I'll need to know how long to make the chains, any suggestions?" 
"There's only one way,' grinned Tracey, starting on the buttons of her cardigan. 
Trev pulled her baggy sweater off quickly.
"It will give me a chance to see their piercings at close quarters," thought 
Anne.
"I'll get a tape measure."
"My, you are big girls aren't you."
They were both freeing themselves from their bras as she came back into the gym. 
There were deep weals on both girls' back and shoulders where their bra straps 
had been digging in, supporting their pairs of melons.
Trev wore tight, washed out jeans, Tracey a neat, thick black leather mini 
skirt. 
Anne sat on the ring apron.
"Over here, let me look at you both."
The massive page-three tits came level with her face. The large, steel rings 
hanging from puckered, provocative nipples. 
"Nice, Gayle's work?"
They both nodded.
"She did us the same night, about a year ago wasn't it Trace?" 
The pretty one nodded, fiddling with the ring through her left breast. 
"Having second thoughts?" wondered Anne.
The holes through both girls' breasts were way back into their dark aureole. 
They must have been at least two inches long, certainly much deeper than her 
own.
Suddenly a thought flashed through her mind.
"I'm sure I've got an eight mill film of that fight with Wendy.
"Look talk amongst yourselves for a minute you two, I've thought of something." 
She raced to her husband's rat hole of a study, found the egg marketing board 
box and tipped it up on the stained, threadbare carpet.
"Here we are, now where's the bleeding projector."
She would use the gym wall for the screen, but the projector was essential. She 
found it at last, serving as a book end on his English poetry shelf.
"Bloody typical," she smirked.
She ran her eyes down the lead, "well at least it's got a plug."
Soon they were ready to watch the fight.
The two girls had large towels draped over their shoulders as they still hadn't 
been measured.
"Lights," sang Anne theatrically as she plunged the room into darkness and 
groped her way back to the ringside and the projector.
"Hope the effing thing works!"
Unlike most of her husbands equipment, it worked fine.
There was even a short intro showing the two boxers being gloved up and having 
the chain attached to their nipple rings.
"Here we go," sighed Anne, to augment the hissy, indistinct sound track. She, of 
course, had watched the film several times since the fight. The first round was 
tough, the punches being of necessity short and vicious. 
The two young girls exchanged glances several times.
In the second round the knockout came, their eyes popped as the ring tore out 
and Anne screamed loudly on the makeshift screen.
They both looked at her.
"Didn't feel it till I came round, then it hit me. Worse than last week I think, 
I reckon I was tenderer meat then."
That's how these tough women seemed to think of themselves, bodies to be tested, 
breasts to be split, faces to be cut to shreds, all for the sake of their sport 
and their bravado.
The girls' eyes returned to the screen to watch Anne's seconds drag her to her 
corner and start to work on her.
They could hear the low moaning and see her chest heaving, one breast with a 
ragged, bloody end to it.
Her busted nose didn't look too good either, blood ran freely down her deep 
cleavage, soaking into the white bikini bottom, all she'd worn into the ring.
The screen went flickery, then the familiar clatter of the tail of film on the 
take up spool.
"Get ready again, while I rewind this, it won't take me a second."
She put the precious film back in it's cardboard box and got the tape measure 
out again.
"Now then, stand up straight Tracey."
She stood squarely in front of the beautiful girl and positioned one end of the 
tape over her right nipple.
"Hold that end Trev."
She pulled the tape over to the left teat. 
"Eleven inches I reckon, what do you think Trev?" 
"Yes," she replied shakily.
Anne was determined to try to bring home to them what it was they were 
contemplating doing to one another.
"That's eleven for you then, now you." 
Trev and Tracey changed places and she got measured.
"...and a round foot for you.'
She wasn't surprised, Trev's cleavage was more open and her breasts weren't 
quite as tip-tilted as Tracey's.
"Right I'll get them done before this evening."
"Ok that's it, but I should leave your bras off now give your boobs a bit of 
freedom, If you're not too tensed up I should try to lie down for an hour or so.
"Ok, where's the bed?' smiled Trev.
"Come on I'll show you," muttered Anne. 
She showed them into the guest bedroom.
When she went to wake them at six she found them both in the one twin bed, naked 
and in each other's arms.
"I must be getting old," she sighed.
"Come on, up you get.'
She found them a robe each whilst they yawned and stretched.
"A quick bath and then into the recovery room with you, I'll be waiting." 
They both looked as if they'd just remembered why they were there.
Tracey swallowed hard, Trev ran her fingers over her crew-cut. 
"Having second thoughts?"
Both shook their heads vehemently.
"Ok, it's your idea, I've warned the doctor to expect you!" 
Still no response.
She showed them the bathroom and left them to it.
They looked radiant when they came into the cold, bare room.
The cloying smell of stale blood and antiseptic yielded to the heady perfume of 
their warm, scented bodies.
"What are you going to do with your hair?" she asked Tracey.
"I'll better not use my comb had I?" she said, rhetorically, "could you tie it 
with a ribbon, but not too tight?"
Anne thought she knew what was wanted.
Trev sat on one of the two utility beds, swinging her legs, watching the 
brunette fixing her friend's hair.
"Right we'd better see if I've got these little chains right, Trev you first." 
She dropped the bath robe onto her soft shoulders, offering her large but pert 
breasts up.
"Once on we'll leave them, then you can get used to the feel of them before the 
fight."
She dangled the two bright lengths of chain, chose the longest and found the two 
ends. There were two spring loaded clips on the ends, like on the old watch 
chains. She made sure that the ring through Trev's left nipple was free to turn, 
before clipping one end to it, then the other to the right.
"What do you think?"
She jumped off the bed and padded over to the wall mirror, clasping her gown 
about her middle.
"It looks nice doesn't it?"
Anne thought that she sounded like she was talking about a hair do or something, 
not a bloody great chain between her youthful breasts.
"Come on Trace, let's get you done."
She took her gown off completely to stand naked in front of the brunette, feet 
apart, hands on hips, magnificent.
But so young.
"I still haven't managed to scare them off," thought Anne.
Stoically she stroked Tracey's beautiful left breast before attaching the hard 
steel chain to her dark brown teat. She clipped the other end on and stood back. 
"I think I made a good job of that!"
Trev too let her gown trail onto the floor as she returned to the bed.
Anne's eyes went involuntarily to her groin, she was free of hair there, as were 
most of the girl's who boxed at Anne's. 
Checking Tracey she noticed a very short stubble but she too was essentially 
depilated.
Anne could hear the other girls moving around in the large gym next door. She 
looked again at the two friends sitting, patiently on the bed.
"One last try," she thought.
"You've still got time to pull out you know?"
A bit of directness might do the trick. 
They shook their heads.
"Or modify the rules, here let me take the chains off." 
"We'll need some panties," was the pragmatic response from Trev.
"Ok, standard issue do you?" 
They nodded.
By standard issue Anne meant the tiny, white cotton g-strings that most of the 
young girls boxed in.
"Here," she passed them the tiny strings.
"Have you still got those black and white four ounce gloves?" asked Tracey, 
settling the thin strings over her magnificent hips.
"I've got new black ones, I'm not sure about the white, hang on." 
She came back with two pairs of boxing gloves.
"Who's having the black?"
"Me please," smiled Trey.
"Here, hang on to them till you get into the ring. That's you sorted out." 
She held up the white ones.
There were smudges of dried blood on them.
"That'll be Susan's," she thought, remembering the last time the white gloves 
had been used for boxing.
"I'll just give them a wipe Trace."
She went to the sink, held a flannel under the tap and wrang it out carefully. 
"These gloves are lethal enough when they're dry, I don't want Trev at a 
disadvantage,' she said to herself.
Tracey frowned as she watched the brunette wiping the blood off the gloves, that 
more than all Anne's attempts at dissuading her from the fight had brought home 
to her most graphically what they were about to do.
"Right, pop your gowns on and we're ready," she handed Tracey the little white 
gloves.
They looked lovely now, but for how long?
Anne walked between them up to the ring.
The room was crowded, the two young boxers spent so much time acknowledging 
their friends, they didn't have time to think about the fight.
Climbing through the ropes brought it home to them though.
"Who would you like as seconds?" asked Anne.
They each gave a name and the brunette called the two other girls to the 
ringside.
"you know what to do don't you?"
Both nodded.
"If you have any problems give me a shout."
Trev sat on a stool and Tracey went to the other corner. 
They gave their gloves to their seconds.
"Yes, get them gloved up now girls."
All of the women boxers seconded regularly and so these two were well trained 
and quick.
They cut four inch strips of plaster for the knuckles and another yard or more 
for taping over the laces.
Knuckles taped over, the gloves went on. It wasn't the first time in fours for 
either of them but Trev smelt the sharp smell of her new black ones and Tracey 
marvelled at the softness and lightness of the white gloves.
"I wonder if the colours say anything about their personalities?" she thought.
Soon the cruel little boxing gloves were on, the long white laces carefully 
taped over, there'd be no stoppages for flying laces.
They never bothered with introductions or pre-fight lectures from the referee, 
in this case, Anne. 
The women knew what they'd come to see, the two girl boxers knew what they 
were about.
She merely nodded to them and they stood, both nervously tapping the hard boxing 
gloves together.
The two seconds undid their belts and the boxers shrugged the heavy gowns off. 
There was an audible gasp from the girls around the ring.
It wasn't just because the two boxers were so beautiful, they'd been seen here 
many times, even fighting against one another once, no it was the chains across 
their chests which occasioned the dismay.
Several of the spectators began to talk amongst themselves, a very unusual 
occurrence as all the fights at Anne's were always silent affairs, from 
beginning to end. The women liked to hear every sound coming from the ring, the 
thud of leather, the gasps and groans and sometimes, like last Saturday, the 
screams.
The two boxers danced on the spot while Anne got the timekeeper sorted out, 
their breasts and consequentially, the chains bobbing and weaving.
All the women there could sense the inevitability of what was going to happen to 
the young girls' breasts.
Anne steeled herself.
She nodded to the timekeeper and leant against the buckle of one of the neutral 
corners, out of the way.
As the two girls came out of their corners she looked down at herself. She'd 
kicked her shoes off before she got in the ring, now she was barefoot. She'd on 
a black leather mini-skirt and a loose fitting white blouse. It was loose 
because she couldn't bear the weight of any material on her right breast. She 
straightened up and the blouse tightened across her bosom. The dark mess of 
scars and stitches around her teat showed through the gossamer top.
They were both very good boxers and it showed in the way in which they faced up 
to one another. No nerves, no fear showed. But for the boxing gloves and, of 
course their fettered breasts, they could have been doing a glamour photo 
session for some salacious men's magazine.
"They must be the two best lookers here," thought Anne, "I hope they'll be 
alright when it's all over."
The first round was left lead time, not a breast blow was struck, but Trev went 
to her corner with a thin trickle of blood from one nostril. 
Left leads from these girls were crisp punches.
Tracey squeezed her bare, round bum onto her stool, crossed her legs and looked 
beautiful.
"Why are they doing this?" wondered Anne for the millionth time.
She didn't mind seeing them boxing, but the damage they were going to do to one 
another's breasts, and they were so young too.
Her fears were realised all too soon.
The first punch of the second round was a straight left by Trev to Tracey's 
right breast. The nipple ring and chain were forced back into her breast flesh 
but, because of the head on punch, nothing gave way. It was one hell of a punch 
though and it looked for a moment that she may go to the canvas.
Trev struck again, a right again, but an uppercut. It lifted the right breast, 
and then the whole black glove scraped and rasped over the other girl's nipple, 
it's ring and the chain. 
Something had to give. The thick ring ripped out and dangled from her left 
nipple onto her belly. She stood there transfixed, her mouth open but no sound 
came out, Trev looked shocked. There was no blood at first but, by the time 
she'd fallen onto her knees it was pumping from the wound. Anne went to her and 
knelt beside her.
"How is it?"
"I think I'm going to be sick,' gagged Tracey.
Anne alone knew how she felt.
Blood splashed onto her bare, brown thigh as she settled back on her haunches. 
"You've got to get up now, or lose the fight," said Anne matter of factly. She'd 
liked to have helped her up, but that was one of the few rules the girls 
enforced in this ring.
No help.
The round was young, Anne was sure something else would happen before it was 
over.
Tracey was still shaky, Trev caught her a beauty flush on the nose before she'd 
even got her guard up. 
Blood squirted.
The upward nature of the fierce right hander had made a mess of Tracey's nose. 
But worse was to come.
Like Anne the week before, one of the girls was boxing with a length of chain 
hanging freely from one breast, but as the other girl still had her's chained 
together it wasn't totally one-sided!
It was Tracey's chain which went first though, she was still groggy and few more 
crippling punches to her face and breasts saw the chain literally wrap around 
one of Trey's black gloves, ripping the remaining ring from her left breast. 
She fell heavily.
Trev flicked her right glove several times trying to disentangle the chain, 
flecks of the friend's blood from the ring through the end flew into her face. 
Anne marched over, sure the fight was finished. As far as she was concerned 
Tracey wasn't going to have a glove laid on her again that 
night. She helped her up and to her stool.
This time she WAS sick. The thin vomit joined the blood down over her. She was 
crying too and they weren't tears associated with the retching of her stomach.
Her frightened second looked to Anne for advice. She didn't know what to 
suggest.
What had they done for Claire last week with both her nipples more or less torn 
off?
She'd been close to comatose with pain herself at the time. She looked round for 
the woman who'd seconded Claire.
There she was with the big blonde herself. 
They both came over. 
Claire gave her a withering look.
"What do you think?" asked Anne, out of her depth.
"She's not too bad,' sneered the big blonde. 
Her second added, "Claire was bleeding much worse."
The two women's' observations calmed Anne's anxiety a good deal. She began to 
think positively about caring for the poor girl.
"I can't think why we do this for the love of it," she got on with sponging the 
pink, red mixture of blood and sick off Tracey's breasts and belly.
Trev came over, black boxing gloves clasped apprehensively up to her own, 
undamaged bosom.
"I didn't want it to be like this," she stammered.
She dropped her gloves away from her chest and offered them to Tracey. She 
looked a bit better now.
She was still crying but most of the blood had been mopped up by Anne and her 
second.
Claire and the other girl had gone back to their seats, probably wondered what 
all the fuss was about.
Suddenly Trev dropped her bombshell. 
"Come on Trace, even the score......" 
Anne looked at her, mouth open.......
"I won't hit you in the tits," she mumbled, red faced, "and it won't take long 
will it?"
Anne, looked down at the girl, no it hadn't taken long! It's up to Tracey," she 
wished her hands of the whole thing.
Tracey nodded, "if you're sure?"
"I'm sure," nodded Tray.
Anne stared at the timekeeper and, after some time, she dinged the bell. 
Trev held her black boxing gloves low, over her belly.
Tracey came forwards slowly, wiping the tears from her eyes with her forearms. 
Blood was running from her nose, down over her split lips, and from her teats 
over her bare feet and the already spattered ring.
She tested Trev with a straight right to the nose.
Blood ran but she kept the little black gloves down out of the way.
A blistering right cross the Trev's right breast got right in under the chain, 
ripping the ring out and flinging it in a restrained orbit, finally bouncing 
onto the top of the girl's little white g-string. A gout of blood instantly 
soaked into the thin material.
Unlike Tracey, she fell to the canvas, writhing and crying.
'Up, up up..." chanted the crowd of women.
Tracey sagged against the ropes, her own blood loss was worrying again. 
The first blazing pain died away for the downed girl and she was clearly 
thinking about rising.
For all the other girls' shouts of derision, Anne thought her's amongst the most 
sporting action she'd seen at her gym. To let the other girl hit her like that 
took some guts and spirit, She was up, the chain hanging grotesquely, as 
Tracey's had done, from her left breast.
She waved her forward and the once beautiful Tracey raised her once white four 
ouncers again.
She hit in the face several times, enough to make Trev's nose bleed as badly as 
her own, then she began on the lush left breast.
She uppercut her cruelly four times before the reluctant nipple yielded it's 
large, steel ring.
The chain and her two rings flew over her left shoulder, into the crowd of women 
near her corner.
Anne grabbed for it and held it aloft, one of the rings still had a little piece 
of brown flesh threaded onto it.
Trev had long since fainted to the canvas.
Like Anne, in her very first chain fight, she'd feel no more pain for a while. 
Tracey staggered to her own corner to be sick again.
Anne began to task of getting her ready to be stitched back together, Trev could 
wait.