Tag boxing.
By Smac.
Two teams of four women have a go at tag boxing.

Corrected 3/07/2001

Anne gratefully sank into bed. Tonight's had been a hard workout. It had ended 
with a tough sparring session followed by a chat over a few fruit juices.

The idea had been kicking around at the club for months no, years.
Some of the women boxers thought it all far too gimmicky, but the general 
consensus was to give it a try, sometime.
"Four a side should be about right," thought Anne aloud.
 She yawned and looked at the clock.
"Heavens, is that the time."
She mulled over the idea, getting sleepier by the minute.
"Six ounce gloves, that way it'll be tough but no one will be able to say it's 
too rough. The two teams can wear contrasting colour gloves. It will have to be 
red and black I expect. We'll need to have some more of those little 
cotton g-strings. I'll do that first thing. As for the boxing itself...  
She drifted off to sleep, dreaming all night of ring furies.

When she woke, hardly refreshed, she rolled over, intending to wake her 
grunting, fidgeting husband, but decided to make sane tea instead.
Taking him a cup, she carried on through the bedroom into her sitting room.
"Now, where was I?"

By the time she welcomed the first of the women the following Saturday she was 
confident that this was going to be an evening to remember. She'd told the girls 
the week before that she expected a full attendance tonight. 
Her only regret was that she couldn't box herself.
She glanced at her face as she passed the hallway mirror. There was a line of 
stitches tracking her right eyebrow, rat tails of nylon held one corner of her 
mouth together and there were more across the thickened bridge of her 
lumpy nose.
"I must be getting past it," she grinned despite the sharp pain from the 
homeward bounders around her mouth, "a couple of years ago I could have put 
Patsie away in half a dozen rounds."
It had taken eighteen rounds the previous Saturday.
"I shouldn't be surprised if she doesn't turn the tide next time, that is if 
we're ever daft enough to box again."

The women boxers were now arriving so frequently that she left the front door 
open and headed for the gym.
She peeped through the windows of the double doors before going in.
She did a rapid head count.
"Three more and we're fully established."
She turned at the slam of the heavy front door.
The missing three bounded up the stairs towards her.
"Typical," she smiled to herself, they were the three youngest
members, "spent ages getting themselves ready I expect, two of them needn't have 
bothered," she added under her breath.
"Just in time," she smiled, holding the door open for them.
Her plan for matching the two teams or sides as she preferred to think of them, 
wasn't over subtle.
She knew that she couldn1t properly match all eight girls so....
With four to a side, she was to have one Goliath and three Davids in each. She'd 
coined the phrase 'glove fodder' to describe the six underlings.
It was blunt, even cynical, but that was Anne.
She took more than her share of leather in the ring, looming larger as she 
reached the centre of the room, so any woman who couldn't or wouldn't face up 
with the gloves on could get out of the club, and good riddance.
All eyes settled on her and she stood, one foot on the ring apron, notebook in 
hand.
Her simple, black court shoes, heavy black leather skirt and immaculate white 
blouse contrasted with her bashed in face, but somehow gave her even more 
authority than her personality or her prowess in the ring behind her.
"So, we're all here. I've been giving this tag boxing idea some thought and 
tonight seems as good a time to try it as any."
Several of the punchier girls tried to catch her eye but she ignored them.
"I want this to be like one of our bath nights, maximum involvement with no 
prior notice, if the thing works well, you'll maybe get a chance next time. I've 
made a list of the two teams and anybody crying off had better have a bloody 
good excuse."
She knew that none of the girls in the would room would pull out if her name did 
get called.
She read out the first four names, a couple of the women swallowed hard, then 
the second team.
Several sighs of relief later she recaptured their attention.
"Rules," she said with obvious satisfaction.
"Well at least this won't take long," she thought.
"Um, there is a problem with the gloves, you were to be using six ouncers, but 
we haven't got enough in contrasting colours, one team will be in red, the other 
black you see. So I'm afraid it will have to be four ouncers for all eight of 
you."
She gave a false smile and noticed that several of the older women particularly 
were smiling to themselves at her mock regret.
"As for the boxing," she paused dramatically, "there aren't any rules as such. 
You can hit anywhere as long as it's punching and as the other girl can tag, I 
don't see why there should be any interference from a referee.
She let her words sink in.
She imagined several of the women chewing over the last statement.
A good proportion of them though that things might get out of hand.
The only firm rule is that a girl can only tag from the ring if she is on the 
canvas and I don't mean lying down having a rest. Of course there'll be no 
rounds and no count if a boxer is downed. So there'll be no knockouts as 
such."
She paused and watched the women's reactions.
"Oh, and one last thing, I've left our two nurses out of this one so that each 
team can have a fully qualified medic as a second."
With such an open ended contest she knew that the inevitable injuries would have 
to be tended. The two nurses who boxed at the club were all too familiar with 
boxing injuries  
"That's it girls, off you go and get changed, you'll find everything you need in 
the rooms."
The two teams and their seconds left to subdued murmurings from the remaining 
members.
"Sounds a bit vicious," said one.
"I think Patsie must have loosened a few screws," said another.
"Vi," Anne ordered, get the camera equipment set up, I want to video this so 
that we can learn ready for the next time. Oh, and I want some colour stills of 
the teams in the ring before and after the boxing."
Vi shuffled off, leaving complete silence.
Anne didn't like the atmosphere.
"Come on let's make ourselves comfortable, this might last all night."
She took charge as they dragged an assortment of chairs in from other rooms to 
supplement the few already in the gym.
"I don't know about you lot, but this is coming off," she unbuttoned her 
pristine blouse, baring her big, heavily bruised tits, there were more stitches 
holding the two halves of her burst left breast together. The gash ran right 
across her aureole, through the very teat itself, where the little forest of 
stitches almost hid the large steel ring through her ruined nipple.
She folded her hefty arms, partly supporting the black-bruised balloons of tit 
flesh, and watched as the other girls followed her example.
Soon the room was like it was on a normal club night, half naked bodies and 
piles of feminine clothing everywhere.
In their rooms, where the night's boxers were changing, the ambience was even 
more stilted.
The two nurses had kitted themselves out specially for the occasion, Anne had 
said wear something which would set them apart.
They each wore black leather moccasins and tight black leather trousers. Their 
big breasts were bare, but they both wore transparent plastic aprons.
The boxers were getting themselves undressed and into the tiny, white g-strings, 
but the nurses were standing by with the bandage, tape and tiny boxing gloves.
The natural team leaders - the Goliaths - Carol and Debbie,
offered their fists first. Soon Debbie, the big blonde in the black-gloved team 
was taking advantage of the heavy bag in the corner to pack her fists further 
than ever into her tiny four ounce boxing gloves. Her young team mates watched 
with awe. You could see them imaging what it would be like to be taking the four 
ounce leathers in their face and tits.
There was still a hush in the gym as the two teams assembled, four girls each 
side of the ring. They hadn't been provided with gowns, there weren't enough to 
go round, so it was bare feet, white g-strings, towels round their necks, and of 
course the four ounce leather boxing gloves, tightly laced onto sixteen fear-
sweaty fists.
Anne was draped over the ropes, her rent and defaced breasts hanging grotesquely 
over the top one.
She still had one foot planted on the ring apron, while she watched the clumsy 
Vi trying to organise the two teams into groups for the still photographs. The 
younger girls seemed wide eyed and overtly scared, whilst the more seasoned 
women, especially Debbie and Carol, chatted and smiled as if they were at a 
wedding reception rather than in a boxing ring.
Quickly tiring of the idea and, as ever, keen to see some action, Anne shooed 
the big blonde out of the ring and told the teams to return to their respective 
benches. She'd briefed the nurses carefully beforehand, it would be they who 
would send the girls into the ring until the boxers began to tag one another in 
and out.
She didn't want the two big girls in together too soon.
One of the seconds glanced at her and she smiled a crooked, sewn up smile.
The two young girls who'd arrived late had the towels jerked from their necks. 
By the time they were in opposite corners of the ring one or the youngsters was 
shaking so much her kneecaps were wobbling, but she managed a nervous grin.
There were no preliminaries, Anne watched as they strode towards one another.
It looked like a bath night to all the women outside the ropes. There was no 
real pretence at proper boxing, it was just punch and be punched.
Their hair, both were in ponytails, swished savagely as they took the leather, 
mostly in their faces.
Both pairs of breasts were more than big enough to provide a good target though 
and it wasn't long before they'd each suffered a glove or two in the tits.
The other women in the room were beginning to respond. Some were still half 
repulsed by the spectacle, but the boxer in than craved for blood and snot.
And blood they soon got, the girls in the ring couldn't have gone on hitting one 
another as hard as they were for very long without it.
But they carried on, as they were expected to, soon a fearful cross sent one of 
them onto the ropes near Anne. 
She casually thumbed a splash of blood from her cheek.
Another thump in the right tit and the girl was down.
Nurse tugged off the next towel and the frightened girl slid into the ring, 
needlessly touching her fallen companion's right boxing glove as she did so. She 
wasn't quite upright before the other girl began smacking her in the face. After 
all she was already at a disadvantage, having already been in the ring for 
fifteen minutes or so and having a swollen, runny nose and busted mouth to show 
for it.
The fresh girl in the ring didn't see it like that, but Anne nodded.
A vicious uppercut snapped her hanging jaw shut, splintering one of her front 
teeth and she sprawled gracelessly onto the canvas.
No tag for her.
Shaking her head, she got up groggily and put up her leathers.
Meanwhile the medic was doing her bit on the bench after dragging the other girl 
out of the ring.
There were three boxers on her bench again, but now one had seen service.
She pulled on the ultra thin PVC gloves Anne had provided and began to mop up 
some of the blood with a damp flannel. The girl fidgeted so she left her alone.
Anne nodded again.
She didn't really want the nurses to be too fussy.
The new girl in the ring was still taking a great deal of leather in her face, 
she hadn't really thrown a punch herself yet and Anne, leering still over the 
top rope, had her doubts about her doing so. She was quite a good tactical 
boxer, but this wasn't good tactical boxing.  What the other girl was doing was 
trying to bash her face in.	Her back hit the ropes near Anne and her head 
snapped back as she took several more heavy straight rights in her face. With 
blood streaming down over her chest, she fell forwards, measuring her length on 
the ring floor. The other girl stood back, panting hard, her face blood 
virtually washed off by the sweat generated by her non stop punching effort. The 
downed girl looked like staying downed for a while. Her nurse herded in the next 
one, now only the big girl, Debbie, remained untried.
There was an enforced change of boxers in the opposite corner too. So two fresh 
fighters squared up in the centre of the ring. It seemed strange, even to Anne, 
for them just to start boxing without any introduction, bell or anything. But 
they seemed pretty keen to get stuck in and, as soon as the crumpled body was 
clear of the ring, they too began to punch one another. It wasn't pretty, but it 
was brutal and very effective. These two were much bigger girls and the four 
ounce gloves raised weals and quickly brought trickles of crimson from both 
noses and mouths.
Anne watched them intensely, but several of the other watching women winced 
visibly as the hammer blows smashed into the pretty faces.
The ring floor had been clean, for once, before the fighting had begun, now it 
was heavily spotted with drops of blood. The two girls had hardly moved from the 
centre of the ring, were they'd met. They were noisily sucking 
air into their bleeding mouths, but the crisp exchange of blows continued. One 
of the girls took time out the pump several straight rights into her opponent's 
massive breasts. The girl, at 40 DD, had the biggest tits in the club. Now they 
looked just that tiny bit bigger, and redder. 
In contrast to her bloody face, which looked that little bit paler. 
Her adversary chose her moment.
And it was now.
She crowded the other girl into a corner and leant over her, her thigh muscles 
bunched, her broad shoulders seesawed as she pulped the submissive girl's face.
Even in normal circumstances it was doubtful if Anne would have intervened. But 
now she merely watched the brutal beating, indeed for a moment or two she 
fingered what remained of her left nipple.
With a gurgle the girl boxer went down in a welter of blood. Her nurse climbed 
quickly into the ring, dragging the broken nosed boxer out before sitting her up 
against the wall, blood streaming over her creased belly and sweaty thighs.
Her opponent stood proud and turning to the opposing team, held her thinly 
gloved fists high in a gesture of open challenge.
There were two girls left undamaged in the team. Carol, who would go in last, 
and Leah.
Leah, it was cruel of Anne to have included her in this bloodbath at all. 
Although she liked boxing, she wouldn't be in the club otherwise, she was so 
handsomely attractive, no beautiful was the word, it was an act of 
barbarity or, more likely, jealousy which saw her elegantly shrug off her towel 
prior to stepping into the blood spattered ring to face the taunting girl 
straining at the leash of her blood lust.
Anne turned to watch Leah climb into the ring.
She could have been a film star or a model. May well be for that matter. Her 
long, thick brown hair shone, bunched down to her shoulder blades. Her face, 
free of make up for the occasion, was perfect. High cheek bones, wide, generous 
mouth with an exquisite little smile to some of her friends in the makeshift 
audience. Her's was a classic hourglass figure. Her brown thirty eight inch 
breasts perfectly complemented her broad, bare hips. 
She looked at home in the tiny, white g string, nakedness suited her round, 
flawless bum in the way that Anne's thick black leather skirt moulded her big 
hips and penchant for brutality.
A cruel smile flickered across the lips of the girl waiting in the ring. She'd 
been praying that she'd get Leah all to herself. There was the was matter of 
Alec. 
Once her boyfriend, now Leah's.
The girl, now squeezing through the ropes thought that the switch had been 
amicable, but the four ounce boxing glove thrust under her nose drained the 
colour from her face.
"I hope you like hospital food," spat her opponent.
Like all of her team so far, she was hardly in the ring before she began to take 
leather.
Anne squirmed on the ring apron, she couldn't have planned things better if 
she'd had the opportunity. She knew all the petty, and some of the not so petty 
wrangles among the girls in the club. She settled herself on the top rope and 
watched the stunning Leah being repeatedly punched in the face.
But she didn't eat dumb flakes for breakfast and besides, the adrenaline was 
pumping now, fight or flight. 
In the circumstances, it had to be fight.
But, to begin with she needed to protect herself. Bringing her little red four 
ouncers up higher helped, getting her footwork going gave her another edge 
over the other girl. She was as flat footed as a duck. Some of the heavy punches 
still got through her guard, others drove her own gloves back into her smarting 
face, but slowly she began to throw sane leather of her own. If there had been 
inter round breaks it would have helped her regain her composure and given her a 
breather, but there it was. They looked like proper boxers now, exchanging left 
leads, with neither in the ascendancy. The contrast in styles and musculature was 
very evident though. Leah graceful, curvy and soft about the face dancing smoothly 
round the other girl, hard faced with lumpy biceps and thighs turning every few 
seconds, her cold blue eyes fixed on Leah's soft brown ones.
"Come on Angela," hissed Anne from the ringside, she didn't like the way Leah 
was getting back into the reckoning.
She saw an opportunity and bulldozed Leah back into a corner. Leah's instinct 
was to raise her meagre guard again. The blonde shot a glance at Anne and began 
to uppercut her in the breasts with both fists. The thuds were sickening. That 
such beautiful breasts were in a boxing ring at all was criminal but to be hit 
so hard and with such venom. Leah usually defended her breasts in preference to 
her face during normal bouts, that's not to say she hadn't taken her fair share 
of leather in the tits, but this degree of breast punishment was new to her. Her 
brain was fogged, she couldn't think properly. Angela had a ghastly grin on her 
face as she smacked her thinly padded fists into the other girl's bounteous 
breasts. It was beginning to look like a rerun of the last fight. 
Angela's sweaty back heaved as she worked the brunette's tits over. Leah knew 
that if she stayed with her back to the corner for much longer she would either 
pass out with the pain or, worse still, one or both of her succulent breasts 
would literally burst under the onslaught. She tried to side step, it almost 
worked. She jinked the other way and, at the same time, fired a straight right 
into the centre of Angie's face. She'd managed to push off the corner post with 
her shoulder, lending more power to the punch. She even felt the blonde's' nose 
mulch through the ridiculously thin boxing glove.
Anne's jaw dropped, Angie's eyes filled with tears and blood squirted down over 
her untouched tits. Leah sagged back onto the ropes again, but at least out of 
the corner she'd been stuck in for so long. After rubbing her forearms gingerly 
over her swelling breasts, she began to dig straight lefts and rights into 
Angela's bloody face. The blonde pawed at her, gloves open palmed, eyes and nose 
still streaming. Leah didn't want to move around too much until the searing pain 
in her chest had subsided somewhat. Luckily she didn't have too, Angela just 
stood there and took whatever was coming. An uppercut finally spun her round and 
she thudded to the canvas, cupping her tiny gloves over her ruined face. There 
was a quick conference in her corner and the last remaining David in Angela's 
team ducked through the ropes and grabbed the blonde's right boxing glove.
Leah was glad of the breathing space, short though it was. The nurse bundled the 
bewildered blonde out of the ring and the new girl faced up. She was Hayley, a 
different kettle of fish, like Leah herself she was very pretty 
and a very skilful boxer, but the real fillip for Leah was that she knew she 
could beat her. She could beat her even with her sore face and her burning 
breasts. Hayley lacked the killer instinct, she'd never knocked out another 
girl, even if she had the power, which was unlikely, she didn't have the nounce. 
Leah knew that, if she was careful, she could put this girl away. 
Indeed Hayley didn't even seem that keen to get stuck in, her footwork matched 
Leah's and they padded around for a while, Leah not moving too far or too fast 
due to her hurting breasts. 
She even took time out to glance over at the bench to see Angela being mopped 
up, she looked evil, she obviously wasn't finished yet.
Hayley's left impacted fairly gently on her forehead and she replied with a 
snappy left lead of her own.  Hayley's lips pursed as the little four ouncer bore 
into her right eye socket. Leah actually felt sorry for the other girl.
"Let's get it over with," she sighed to herself.
Despite still being disappointed with Angela, Anne clearly approved of the way 
things were going in the ring now. Leah was laying into Hayley as if paying her 
back for the vicious pounding her breasts had taken whilst she'd been backed up 
against the ropes. Anne could see that Leah was setting the other girl up, it 
was a brilliant piece of boxing. She seemed to be punching randomly, to head and 
body, face and breasts, Hayley didn't know where she was or what to do.
With her gloves fluttering around her breasts, Leah had her where she wanted, 
Hayley never even saw the big right hook coming. It caught her on the hook of 
the jaw and almost without having thrown a punch, she thudded to the canvas, it 
was more than five minutes later that she came round.
But an awful lot happened in that short space of time.
Leah at first fisted the air triumphantly, but not as spitefully as Angela had 
done, then, seeing the awesome Debbie getting to her feet she dropped her gloves 
to her sides and turned to her second. 
She swallowed hard, "I've painted myself into a corner haven't I?"
The nurse could only nod she, like Leah and all the other women at the club, had 
seen what Debbie could do in the ring. She looked at Leah, standing calmly 
waiting for the big girl to come to the scratch. Luckily she wasn't too badly 
damaged, yet.  Her face and probably her breasts would be sore, but she would be 
well used to that.
Leah's big, brown eyes were drawn towards the opposite corner. There was no tag 
as such, Hayley was already on the floor outside the ring by the time the blonde 
had squeezed through the taut ropes. Her nurse left the unconscious girl for 
long enough to pull the towel from her strong neck and to give her a pat on her
impressive shoulders. 
Debbie bunched those shoulders whilst pounding her fists together in an effort 
to pack her knuckles ever tighter into her tiny black leathers.
Leah's nurse stood open mouthed, she too watched the blonde. She stood about the 
same height as her girl, but she would be at least a stone heavier and, the 
thing that worried her most, was the hard bitten look and almost contempt she 
showed, not only for the likes of Leah, but for all the unfortunates who found 
themselves in the ring with her, on the receiving end of her cruel fists. She 
turned, a last word to her nurse, her broad back already oiled and shiny, her 
thigh muscles knotted and hard, even her great, bare bum looked anything but 
soft and rounded, the lumps of solid muscle standing out on her buttocks writhed 
as she briefly loosened up. She spun round. Her short, blonde hair haloed out, 
then settled back, close to her square, fresh face. She glanced at Anne and came 
forwards, towards the centre of the ring. Leah did the same, red 
leathers under her chin, her heart pounding, her stomach knotted, not with 
ribbons of muscle like her opponent's, but with fear and a stoical acceptance of 
the inevitable, she was there to give this big girl a bit or a warm up, act like 
a human punch bag for as long as she lasted before the other Goliath, Carol, got 
into the ring to provide more worthy opposition.
Debbie undercut in the tummy, just above the triangle of her tiny cotton g 
string. She survived it, but knew that her muscle shield would only stand a few 
more like that.
Debbie wasn't even putting up a guard.
Her right glove buried itself in the heart of Leah's succulent left breast, the 
pain was bad, all the worse for the attention her luscious breasts had received 
from Angie's black four ouncers in the previous session.
She lowered her elbows slightly, more as a reflex than a deliberate move.
Debbie responded, like the born boxer she was, by clubbing her right into Leah's 
already pinked face. She staggered and felt the coarse ropes biting into her 
sweaty back.
A thin, cruel smile crossed the blonde's lips, she could see Anne's face over 
the brunette's shoulder, flushed and expectant, she couldn't see the older 
woman's index finger through the steel nipple ring of her burst left breast, 
her hand was already wet with blood.
As Debbie began to hit her Leah's brown bottom thrust further and further 
through the ring ropes. She left her belly alone, preferring to concentrate on 
the targets were her punches would do most noticeable damage, Leah's face and 
breasts.
Her old fears for her heavy breasts returned, she would be split if she didn't 
cover up.
Debbie shrugged as the brunette's gloves came away from her face. Her left and 
right crosses ripped into the beautiful visage.
Anne strained forwards, her ruined tits almost touching Leah's heaving back. Her 
own bruised chest soon became spattered as the brunette began to bleed and the 
blood began to fly.
Debbie was obviously enjoying herself. Her opponent wasn't retaliating, wasn't 
even covering her poor face. 
She couldn't have wished for a better warm up.
Leah dropped to one knee and a glove at one stage but, gamely and pointlessly, 
got up again to face the black boxing gloves. Three minutes she'd been in that 
same position, taking the hammer blows to her face, the tops of her breasts and 
her forearms and gloves were covered in the blood that ran from her nose and 
mouth. 
When one of Debbie's right crosses connected with her nose she felt it give. The 
taste of blood in her throat made her feel instantly sick. She could see 
nothing, not that it mattered. She felt her warm blood running down her cleavage 
and belly. She became aware of her head hanging and a sharp pain in her mouth 
before blackness came.
She felt next the coolness of the gym wall against her back, then that screaming 
pain from her face, especially her mouth.
Her nurse, in her PVC apron and gloves, was knelt beside her.
"Come on Leah, spit out into my hand."
With fresh blood dribbling down her chin, she focussed on the remains of her 
front teeth in the bloody palm of the nurse's surgical glove



To be continued