The Forty Sixers. Part I.
By Smac.
Two big women boxers in a club boxing match.	

Corrected 3/07/2001

  The two of them, Debbie and Jane, watched the older woman expertly 
lacing the old pair of black, six ounce boxing gloves, first onto 
one girl's fists, then the other.
  Debbie was the eldest, at seventeen, she was an A level student at 
sixth form college, her real passion was for PE and especially, the 
increasingly popular sport, of kick boxing.
  Jane, sixteen, was to join Debbie at college at the end of summer.  
Her main interests seemed to be boys and pop music.
  "Ready to have a go?"
  Debbie, the more precocious, nodded and pulled the leathers from 
their mentor's hands, they were still warm.
  The older woman held out her sinewy hands and Jane smiled because 
Debbie seemed all fingers and thumbs.
  "Not too bad," she smiled, bunching her fists in the confining 
leather boxing gloves, "I prefer them much tighter, but I'm sure 
you'll get the hang of it."
  "Your turn," she turned to the blushing Jane.
  They practised with the gloves for a good while longer, till the 
older woman seemed to tire of it and become restless.  They could 
hear the rest of the women of the WWBC (Women's' Wrestling and Boxing 
Club) working out in the large gym next door.
  "I'd better get myself in there," she sighed, "don't forget what 
you've learnt tonight, you're the seconds for Saturday's title fight."
  Debbie and Jane were the two daughters of the club champion, Toni, 
who was to defend her title against the big challenger, Suzanne on 
the coming Saturday.
  The custom of the WWBC of matching their fighters in the boxing 
and wrestling ring dependant on their bust measurement had spawned 
some memorable fights and it was certain that the scrap in prospect 
for the coming Saturday would be a very hotly and evenly contested 
affair.  The women who were to box were known, in the club patois as 
forty sixers, that is they each had a bust measurement of at least 
forty six inches.  Usually, because of their sheer size, the forty 
sixers tended to be lumberers, not that some of their fights weren't 
often brutally contested.
  But Suzanne, the challenger and Toni, the defending champion, were 
in a class of their own.
  They were a different prospect entirely.
  Because no money was involved, competition was all.
  Suzanne, a local agency nurse, had already made two attempts at 
taking the championship from the big girl, Toni.
  Toni was van driver working for a local tool hire company, her 
thighs and biceps particularly benefited from all the lifting and 
carrying she was expected to do. 
  The scant rules would be as usual for the WWBC, in that the two 
boxers would mutually agree on the weight of the boxing gloves they 
would use on one another, they would usually box in the nude, a 
little cotton g string would be the most they'd ever wear.  The 
fight, unless between absolute beginners, would always be to a 
finish, and neither Toni or Suzanne, by any stretch of the 
imagination could be considered beginners.
  For the fight the two, already mentioned Jane and Debbie, neither 
of whom had ever seen a WWBC fight, would second the two big women 
boxers, one of them their very own mother.  Unknown to them, at this 
stage, they too would be dressed ready for the ring should they be 
so moved by the brutal spectacle sure to be the result of the coming 
together of their mother and her challenger with just two pairs of 
probably four ounce boxing gloves between them.
  With the two big boxers in the tiny ring would be a referee, not 
to judge the fight or stop it in the case of injury, more often than 
not the referee's only duty was physically to separate the fighters 
at the end of each round, usually by their hair.   
  Time, injuries and stoicism were the arbiters in WWBC fights.
  Three minute's boxing, one minute's rest until the end.  Until one 
of the brave boxing women couldn't face up after twenty seconds 
prone or on her knees.
  
  Jane and Debbie picked up their meagre belongings from a corner of 
the untidy room and squeezed out of the back door, leaving the women 
of the WWBC, including their mother, to their task of becoming fit 
enough to beat the shit out of one another.
  After the sweaty work out session, Toni and Suzanne showered and 
changed, together with the rest of the women boxers, each pondered 
on their motives for their scrap on the coming Saturday, now only 
four days away.  
For a start, they were the best of friends, and had been since 
Suzanne's first bid for the championship three years ago.  Although 
Toni was much older, married with two teenage daughters, the two of 
them often went out on a shopping trip or even a drink together in 
the evenings.  It had taken them several rounds to really get stuck 
into each other in the second championship match between them. 
  Despite it being a genuine challenge, indeed Suzanne's third 
attempt to wrest the forty sixer's title away from the impressive 
Toni, there was the added opportunity to allow Toni's two daughters 
to witness an example of what two women with boxing gloves on could and 
would do to one another in the boxing ring.  They would do it, 
not for financial gain, there was none, or for status within the club, 
all worked as hard in training and so on and there was 
no hierarchy.  They would fight to the finish to test themselves, 
their guts, their courage and their ability to take all that the 
other girl could throw at them.  They'd both be hurt, they knew 
that, boxing hurts.  Indeed their last two fights for the title 
had both been long and bloody battles, still talked of fondly, 
and in some awe, by all the members of WWBC.  They would also prove 
to themselves that, despite their size, especially their bust measurements, 
they could still put on a display of the most brutal of sports, women's 
boxing.  At least until tiredness and loss of blood turned the fight 
into a dogged battle of attrition with just heavy toe to toe 
punching which had characterised the final rounds of their last two bouts.
  Each knew, inevitably they would soon be lumberers themselves, 
five more years would see them more of a sideshow than their eagerly 
awaited fight on Saturday.  They'd go on, maybe for a few more 
years, getting into the ring whenever their number came up, do the 
business, win or lose.  In the end they'd go in with a younger, much 
better woman boxer, get so badly beaten up that they'd be taken to 
one side a few weeks later and be told they'd be scrubbers from then 
on.
  Scrubbers, there were about six of them now, all women in their 
late forties and fifties who, on a Saturday morning, before a 
championship fight, would come into the club and scrub the ring 
floor until it was as clean of the old bloodstains as possible, 
ready for whatever the evening's show of brutality would bring.
  
  Suzanne threw open her front door.
  "Hi, not too early I hope?"
  "Oh no, I've been up for ages, how's Andy and the girls?"
  "Well, Andy's not very happy at me getting into the ring again to 
say the least, especially against you.  But the girls are really 
excited about tonight."
  Suzanne looked sheepish.
  She cast her eyes down and took in her friend's black high heels 
and thick leather skirt topped with a thin, white blouse under her 
matching black leather jacket.
  "He'll get over it," shrugged Toni, she followed Su back into the 
terraced house, watching her friend's strong body working under her 
baggy track suit.
  After a quick coffee, Su could contain herself no longer.
  "You ready?"
  Toni nodded enthusiastically.
  They'd boxed their last championship fight in the nude and had 
since agreed to rid one another of all their bodily hair this time, 
on the day of the fight.
  Su led the way upstairs to her bedroom.
  She was out of her track suit in seconds to stand in her white bra 
and panties to watch Toni get undressed.
  Toni slipped off her heavy leather jacket and peeled off her 
gossamer blouse, her big, brown tits were bare beneath.  She talked 
all the time of her daughters as she absentmindedly fiddled with the 
catch of her leather skirt.  Soon it was down round her ankles and 
she bent to pick it up and slip off her teetering high heels at the 
same time.  Under the skirt she wore a tiny, very thin black leather 
g string.
  Su was ecstatic.
  "Hold on, stay there, I must get the camcorder."
  Toni stood, self-consciously, till she reappeared.
  She put the camera down carefully and fetched a tiny pair of black 
leather boxing gloves from a shelf in the wardrobe.
  "I must get a few shots of you, to remember today by."
  She laced the four ouncers onto Toni's fists, not too tightly, 
then oohed and ahhed as the big blonde struck various poses in the 
leather g string and boxing gloves.
  Suddenly she put the camera down and began to pick furiously at 
the lacings of the boxing gloves on Toni's hands.
  "Come on," she pleaded huskily, "do me now."
  They spent the rest of the morning shaving one another completely, 
underarms, legs, between their legs, everywhere....  Next they oiled 
each other all over, all the time caressing particularly their big, 
slimy breasts and all the time thinking about what all this 
preparation was in aid of.  Finally they showered together and got 
ready to relax, naked, in front of the video to watch some of Toni's 
earlier boxing matches.  Some of the fights were pretty vicious, but 
none of them came anywhere near to the two times they'd fought each 
other.
  When the time came for them to dress, ready for the walk to the 
club, Suzanne grinned and said to Toni, "I'll see if I can find my 
little leather skirt as well, shall I?"
  Toni nodded enthusiastically.
  
  Then it was off together to the WWBC to see which one of them it 
would be who would end up unconscious on the grubby ring floor 
there.
  
  By early Saturday evening the atmosphere in the large room was 
electric.  The scrubbers, in their well earned places at ringside, 
eyed the pristine, white canvas with pride and some trepidation.  
The last fight at WWBC had been the bloodiest ever at the club, it 
had been a grudge fight between two forty five year old 
grandmothers.  
They'd fought for more than twenty brutal rounds.  The scrubbers had 
spent most of the day and several bottles of bleach to get the ring 
looking this good.
  The rest of the small crowd were restless and jittery too.  There 
were, of course, no men amongst them, and most of the women who were 
about to watch the barbarity of the boxing ring had been there 
themselves, and done it, albeit perhaps not to the level of violence 
that Su and Toni would descend to this evening.  The boxing matches 
were never filmed, you had to be there to see one, it was felt that 
the venue and the hard bitten audience lent a special piquancy to 
the event and that having people filming would detract from that.   
So there it was.
  
  There was the unmistakable sound of high heels on the solid 
concrete floor and, as most heads turned, the two big women entered 
the room together.
  The two friends walked down the central aisle hand in hand, in 
their free hands they each carried a tiny pair of white leather 
boxing gloves.  Soon they had to part to achieve opposite corners of 
the boxing ring.  There they both kicked off their high heels and 
eased themselves into the pit of pain, showing a good deal of bare thigh as 
they did so.
  Both, now barefoot, stood frozen for a few moments just inside the 
taut ropes.
  Toni's round, soft face placid and at peace, her wide shoulders 
and massive tits hidden under a baggy sweat shirt, her short, heavy 
black leather skirt ending halfway up her powerful, bronzed thighs.  
She glanced down fleetingly at her gaily painted toenails, thinking 
of all the love and care that Su had taken in painting them.
  Suzanne ran her strong fingers through her unruly blonde hair, her 
bicep bulging noticeably.  She wore a thin, white singlet, 
underneath that, clearly visible, a capacious white bra straining to 
confine her qualifications for being in the ring with Toni, 
her forty six inch breasts.  Her burgundy leather skirt also ended 
at mid thigh, she nodded to Toni and the big woman grabbed the hem 
of her white top.
  All eyes in the room were rivetted on Toni's statuesque figure.  
There was an audible intake of breath as she slowly drew the garment 
over her head.  Her huge bra was also white, the broad straps 
contrasting with and cutting deeply into her wide, brown shoulders.  
With a thin smile in Suzanne's direction she reached round and 
deliberately snapped the straining catches between her shoulder 
blades.  Again, with a glance to the opposite corner, she drew the 
huge white cups away from her massive, brown forty six inch tits.  
She dropped the huge bra over the top rope of the boxing ring and 
turned to face her corner post, thrusting her bare breasts out 
towards the expectant onlookers.  She turned back to face 
Suzanne and began on the fastening of her heavy leather skirt, 
the job made more difficult due to her tightly bandaged hands.  
At last it yielded to her strong fingers and she was able to slide 
down the straining zip.  She stepped out of the warm, black leather 
and hung that too over the top rope of the confining boxing ring.  
She was left in her tiny, black leather g string which left all 
of her big bum bare, but that too was to come off, again to be 
draped over the top rope.
  Now she was naked.
  All her body hair had been carefully removed, she and Su had spent 
the whole day together and they'd shaved one another from neck to 
toe, cunt to anus, and they'd loved it.  She turned to face the 
onlookers again, raising her bandaged right hand in salute, then 
she turned and smiled at Suzanne, before plonking her bare, 
brown bottom on her wooden stool. 
  Suzanne smiled genuinely before awkwardly pulling the singlet over 
her head.  She seemed in a hurry to get on with the boxing.  It was 
a great white bra, but thin enough for her erecting teats to be 
clearly visible through the taunt material of the cups.  She fumbled 
with the back fastening until, with a dull thud, it gave way and she 
was able to peel the white cups away from her heavy, brown breasts.  
Tits liberated, her teats hung almost to her belly button.  She 
threw her bra under her corner stool and weighed her vast bosom in 
her strong hands, glad to be free of the confining, but mightily 
necessary bra.  She kneaded her tits for a few seconds before 
determining to rid herself of her wine coloured leather skirt.  She 
was bare assed beneath, completely bare like Toni.  Her smooth, pink 
cunt lips glistened under the harsh overhead lights.  She too turned 
to face the onlookers, her nipples puckered as she stood there 
trembling slightly, feet apart, her wet gash tingling and clenching 
with fear and anticipation.
  The two seconds, Jane and Debbie, climbed into the ring from 
opposite corners looking very sheepish amid the intense interest in 
the two big naked women boxers.
  The two experienced boxers must have been able to sense the 
tension among the spectators and, once their seconds had sorted 
themselves out somewhat, they simultaneously held out their tightly 
bandaged fists ready for the mutually agreed four ounce leather 
boxing gloves.
  Debbie and Jane glanced at one another across the glaring ring 
floor.
Swallowing nervously, Debbie took the lethal leathers which her 
mother offered her.  Both the young seconds trembled nervously as 
they took the white boxing gloves from the two seated women, whether 
they too could feel the tension in the hall or whether they were 
daunted by the task of, first lacing the tiny gloves onto the 
women's' fists, and then having to stand by and watch the spectacle 
of the two of them trying to beat one another senseless, with them 
coming back at the end of each three minutes of mayhem for whatever 
first aid and small comfort they could provide.
  The hard faced referee's jumping into the ring seemed to galvanise 
them into action and soon they were packing their fighter's fists 
into the thin, white leathers before struggling to get the laces 
tight enough to satisfy the demands of the women boxers.
  The referee shoved Debbie to one side and, having roughly checked 
the laces, tore a strip of wide, white surgical tape which she 
wound, cruelly tight around her mother's strong wrist.
  Toni grinned to herself.
  She stood and smacked the small, hard boxing gloves together in 
front of her vast, juddering bosom.
  Jane had already stood well out of the way by the time the referee 
reached Suzanne.  She too had the hint of a smile on her face as the 
tape was applied with such vehemence.  It was clear that the referee 
was no advocate of compassion in matters boxing.
  Their normal referee had, since Toni and Suzanne's last fight for 
the championship, sickened of the all too frequent brutal endings to 
some of the fights at the club.  The scant rules did not allow the 
referee to stop a fight and the seconds, like tonight, often 
seemed to be chosen for their inexperience or lack of character 
such that a boxer might be allowed to fight on despite serious injury.  
A cut eye or broken nose were considered trifles but 
what some of the boxers had boxed on through included lately, cuts 
around their nipples, even ruptured breasts and, in the last fight, 
the grudge fight, one of the women had been bleeding freely from 
between her legs.
  This referee, imported from a German girls club, had been hired by 
dint of her reputation.  She would turn a blind eye to any and 
everything.  She was merely in the ring physically to separate the 
women boxers in a clinch or at the end of each round.  
Counting out a boxer was not a requirement for her because, 
in the state the loser usually ended up in, ten or 
even twenty seconds was the blink of an eye.
  It was usually the entry into the ring of the stretcher which 
signified the end of one of the WWBC championships.  
She stood for a few seconds, seeming to test the air.  She, like the 
women boxers, was bare foot, her blonde crew cut hair shaved almost 
to her scalp.  All she seemed to be wearing was a short, black skirt 
of thick, scuffed leather and a thin, see through tee shirt covering 
her bare and massive breasts.  As hard bitten as she was she 
could tell that she needed to get the carnage started quickly, 
the room had become very quiet and threatening.  She nodded 
meaningfully to Jane and Debbie and they shied out onto the ring 
apron, leaving their two women and the referee alone on the canvas.  
 She went first to Suzanne.
  Her short, curly blonde hair haloed her wide, soft face.  Her big, 
heavy breasts hung to her navel.  Her upper lip was beaded with 
perspiration.  Her pink cunt lips glistened under the glare of the 
overhead lights.
  The referee asked her if she was ready.
  She nodded.
  Toni too was bare and bald.  Her, even heavier breasts, jutted out 
more then Suzanne's but still managed to over her entire chest down 
to her waistline.
  She looked, and felt, very vulnerable.  Not even wearing panties 
meant that she couldn't even risk a tampon to mop up anything in the 
way of juice or blood that might leak from her.  Her hair, blonde 
but with a hint of copper, hung to her shoulders but was cut back 
away from her assertive face, with it's strong set jaw.  She blinked 
her large, green eyes and smiled across to Suzanne as if to say, 
"right, let's do it."
  
  The referee caught the mood and cleared her throat.
  "This is a championship fight over unlimited rounds, between, on 
my right, Suzanne, the challenger, who is twenty six, weighs 157 
lbs. or 11 stone 3 lbs. and is 5 ft. 6 ins.  Her measurements are 
46-28-38. And on my left is Toni, the champion, she is thirty four, 
weighs 160lbs. or 11 stone 6 lbs. and is 5 ft. 5 ins.  
Her measurements are 46-27-40.  As you can see the girls will box in 
the nude and the gloves they are wearing are four ounces only.
  "May the best girl win."
  The referee nodded and, from beside the ring, came a dull clang.
  "Round one," shouted the timekeeper.
  The two young, shorts and singlet clad, seconds exchanged glances.
  "Oh, my God," sobbed Debbie, "they're really going to do it."
  She glanced across the ring at her sister, Jane.
  She too was wide eyed.
  Her charge, Suzanne, padded out towards the centre of the boxing 
ring, as did Toni, her buttocks juddering, heavy breasts dangling as 
her bare feet pounded the canvas.
  They closed till their breasts met, then both heads bobbed 
forwards and they kissed, eyes closed for several seconds before 
stepping back to arms length.
  Neither had yet raised their cruel, white boxing gloves.
  As soon as they were back within range of one another though, Toni 
pistoned her right fist into Suzanne's succulent left breast.
  It appeared as though this time they would get off to a flying 
start.
  "Oh, Christ," sighed Debbie.
  Suzanne slowly raised her gloves, her eyes locked onto Toni's.
  "A punch in the tits like that would have killed me," thought 
Debbie, "she doesn't seem to noticed it at all."
  Suzanne's elbows were firmly planted over her heavy breasts 
though.  The target was, for now at least, denied Toni.
  After a few seconds circling one another, Suzanne drove her right 
glove into Toni's forehead, beginning an exchange of about a dozen 
punches, any one of which, Jane thought, would have put her on her 
back.
  Toni, who'd taken most of Su's punches in the face, dragged her 
forearm across her nose to see if she was bleeding yet.  There was 
nothing she could see.
  Suzanne's tummy had turned a warm red thanks to Toni's four 
ouncers, but she'd worked hard for the last six months, she knew she 
was the best she'd ever been in the gut department.
  When she returned to Jane at the bell she said, "She can wear 
herself out, punching me in the guts for all I care, she'll never 
hurt me here," she patted her abdomen with her right boxing glove.   
Jane shuddered and sloshed a very wet, cold sponge on Suzanne's 
flaring stomach, it almost steamed.
  Suzanne squirmed as the cold water trickled down over her bare 
cunt lips.
  "You've made my bum all wet now," she grinned.
  It broke the ice and Jane at once felt more at ease.
  "How do you put up with being punched so hard here?" she indicated 
Suzanne's massive bosom.
  "It's all part of the fight.  Toni's as big as me, so she feels it 
exactly the same as me."
  She patted Jane's forearm with her still white right boxing glove, 
"you'll see."
  Jane swallowed hard.
  The bell rang.
  She watched Suzanne's bare back and bum, her wet buttocks 
glistening and wobbling with each determined stride.
  They met in the centre of the boxing ring and the leather really 
began to fly.
  The referee stood as far away from them as she could, lounging 
against the taut ring ropes, watching casually as the two big, bare 
women boxers whacked each other in the face and tits.
  A cruel straight right to Suzanne's pouting lips brought the first  
blood of the fight, dripping off the end of her chin to splatter the 
upper slopes of her massive crimsoned breasts.  She continued her 
own onslaught as if nothing had happened, soon catching Toni a 
bang in the face which cut the corner of her mouth, a very painful 
place to be cut, and so early in the fight.
  At the bell they both left crimson stains on their large, white 
towels.
  Debbie held her mother's up, wondering what it might look like by 
the end of the fight.  The two boxers stood again, Su's mouth 
already wet with blood.
  Her back shone with sweat as she walked away from Jane, out the 
face the champion, Toni, for the third round.
  Toni seemed intent on  messing up her friend's mouth, time and 
again in the third she got one of her stinging fists past Su's 
guard.  She had to take several hurtful blows to her own face and 
breasts in the process, but she looked the fresher when they were 
pulled apart, by the hair, at the bell.
  Jane dabbed ineffectually, at Suzanne's gory lips.
  Suzanne brushed her hand away, "just fan me with the towel ok?"
  She splayed her heavy thighs and leant her head back on the corner 
padding, taking full advantage of the breeze generated by the 
flapping towel.

  Jane glanced over to the opposite corner to see Toni pointing at 
her reddened breasts with her boxing gloved hands and then Debbie laying 
a wet sponge carefully on each huge mound.  She turned back to 
Suzanne, blood was dripping occasionally from the end of the 
quivering chin, down into her deep cleavage to mingle with her 
breast sweat.
  Both women eased themselves of their stools at the bell for the 
fourth.
  The spectators were beginning to warm up as well as the boxers.  
Several hands had strayed between thighs and had been slid 
inside blouses.  
There was an audible sigh as the two brave boxers raised their, 
now not so white, sodden four ounce leathers.  
Jane gasped as her mother's right fist thwacked into Suzanne's mouth again.
  The big blonde's filled with tears and she tucked her tiny gloves 
up to her ragged lips.
  Toni boxed her ears, then had her staggering with a vicious right 
uppercut to her solar plexus.  She was in trouble.   She took 
another sickening straight right in the mouth as her guard dropped 
involuntarily. 
  The crowd were on the edge of their seats.
  Suzanne floundered, blood trickling down her chin, into her sweaty 
cleavage and then on down into her belly button.
  Toni buffeted the sides of her head still with both fists.
  "She must go down," sighed Jane.
  Somehow she managed to stay on her feet, gloves over her face, in 
a very low crouch.  Her ears must have been ringing, as it was they 
certainly were bright crimson.  Somehow she managed to stumble to 
one side and get herself upright again, keeping her blood smudged 
boxing gloves high over her face.  Her elbows were, all the time, 
tucked tight into her hanging breasts.
  Toni whacked her half a dozen times, hard in the belly, the only 
really exposed part of her, before the bell rang.
  Toni turned disappointed, for her corner.
  Suzanne turned slowly for her stool, thankful for the minute's 
respite from her friend's stinging, leather clad fists.
  Jane, alone in the corner, seemed out of her depth.  She stared, 
open mouthed, at the blood all down over Suzanne's front, it was 
spreading across the cease in her tummy as she sat herself looking 
at the blood stains on her once white boxing gloves.  Most of it was 
her own, from her ruined lips.
  "Do you know, your mother loosened one of my teeth in our last 
fight," she panted, "it looks like she's trying to finish the job 
this time."
  Jane was at a loss for what to do.
  "Sponge my back would you?" croaked Su.
  Su bent over, her bleeding face between her knees, while Jane 
mopped the sheen of perspiration from her heaving back.
  "Thanks," murmured Su.
  The flow of blood from her mouth had stopped, for the moment at 
least, and she rose quickly enough for the start of the fifth.
  The referee never even turned away from the difficult and animated 
conversation she was engaged in with one of the ringside scrubbers 
as the two impressive women met in the centre of the boxing ring.
  There was a coldness in both pairs of puffy eyes.  Two straight 
rights were thrown, almost simultaneously and both heads snapped 
back.
  It was Su's poor mouth which again stopped Toni's punch, her knees 
buckled and she whipped both her boxing gloves up to shield her 
hurting mouth.
  Toni took the hard fist in her face too, a thick line of blood 
began from each nostril, she too improved her guard and she began to 
circle Su menacingly.
  Su got her left jab going sufficient to keep her brave opponent at 
arm's length, giving her some much needed recovery time.  She even 
managed to catch Toni on the nose a couple more times, till blood 
began to drip down between her massive, reddened breasts.
  Toni looked down at her cleavage, the corners of her mouth turned 
down at the sight of all the blood.  She uppercut Su in the belly, 
the sheer force of the vicious punch sent her friend back onto the 
ring ropes.
  The uppercuts came again and again till her big, bare bum stuck 
out between the ropes and she was bent almost double.
  Toni then proceeded to knock her head from side to side with both 
fists, her blood smeared four ouncers thudding into Su's temples and 
ears.
  Her head was ringing, her stomach, for the first time since she'd 
ever been boxing actually hurt her, she knew that if she didn't do 
something pretty soon she would end up lying at Toni's feet.
  Toni had let all caution go to the wind, she was still swinging 
both fists into Suzanne, her feet apart, thighs splayed......   
In a flash Su whipped in an uppercut of her own, her best shot from her 
couched position.  Her damp, thinly padded right boxing glove whacked 
into Toni's very clitoris and crushed it into her pubic bone.
  The cruel blow lifted Toni onto tip toe and there she stayed for 
several seconds, open mouthed, boxing gloves open palmed, her eyes 
glazed.
  Su could only stand and stare too, so hurting was she.
  The dull clang of the bell intervened and the two young seconds 
were motioned into the ring by the surly referee, she returned to 
her halting conversation with the woman at ring side.
  Su staggered to her corner and the wide eyed Jane.  She plonked 
herself thankfully onto the cool stool and tipped her battered head 
back so that her floundering second could make an effort to attend 
to her facial bruises.  
Beyond speech, she indicated her smarting, crimson ears with her 
boxing gloves hands.  She managed a strangled sigh as the cold 
sponge was applied and lifted her head slightly to watch as Toni was 
helped back to her own corner.  Inwardly she wondered if whacking 
Toni in the cunt may have been the best move.  The die was cast now, 
the gloves metaphorically off.  She knew that if she gave her the 
opportunity, Toni would repay her in kind.  
She'd felt several of Toni's uppercuts between her legs and she 
didn't relish the thought.
  Indeed, from the opposite corner, Toni looked daggers at her.  
Then one of the women from the crowd came up to the ring side, 
squeezed between the ring ropes and, hiking her tight mini skirt up 
round her waist, knelt, almost in supplication, between Toni's 
sturdy, splayed thighs.  Whatever she was doing down there it 
seemed to mellow the big woman.  She snorted rather than sighed, 
her shoulders fell and she began to examine her blood smeared right 
boxing glove, ignoring her own blood steadily dripping into her 
cleavage, whilst the interloper continued her ministrations.
  Su's second was now trying to sort out her mouth.  She made Su 
bite on the sponge, and mopped up as much of the blood as possible 
from her lips and chin, but each time Su parted her lips, more blood 
trickled from the corners of her ruined mouth.
  "Still, it's better than a cut eye," she reminded herself.
  In the other corner the woman between Toni's thighs stood and 
wiped her mouth with the back of her hand.  
Toni's knees slammed together and she got Debbie to towel some of 
Su's blood from her damp four ouncers, while her friend eased 
herself back out of the ring.  Toni actually smiled at the sight of 
all the blood daubs on the towel afterwards and squirmed her sweaty 
bum on the stool, the after effects of her recent punch in the cunt 
seemingly overcome, so to speak.......
  Amongst the women in the audience the attempts at physical relief 
were ever more overt.  Several had their arms around other's 
shoulders, some had breasts peeping from blouses and bras, one or 
two had thighs splayed with skirts rucked up and there were one or 
two hands down waistbands.  The bell to begin round six brought all 
eyes up to the elevated ring, but no diminution of the activities of 
fingers and, in some cases, tongues.
  Toni strode out, somewhat stiff legged.
  Su already had her tiny, tight four ouncers up to her bloody chin.
  They began a classic exchange of left jabs and straight rights to 
the face, their poor heads jerking back like puppets on strings.  
Some of the greener women in the audience even turned their heads 
away as both Su's and Toni's noses opened up as if a tap had been 
turned on.
  The blood bath, all had expected, including the two brave friends, 
was in progress.
  Both stood off briefly, each pawing at their bleeding faces with 
the tiny, once white boxing gloves, the they were at one another 
again, their close friendship sub served to the need to subjugate the 
other.  The last few seconds of the sixth round saw them on their 
gaily painted toes smacking one another in the face with no hint of 
any defensive moves on either side.
  "God, I wish I'd never known anything about this," sobbed Jane.
  The referee intervened, pulling the boxers apart, again by their 
hair.
  Debbie shuddered when her mother turned towards her corner.
  The lower half of her mother's face was covered in blood, and 
there were flecks all over her massive, reddened breasts.  She stood 
magnificent for a moment or two, her blood smeared boxing gloves on 
her flaring hips, looking down at her heaving bosom.  
She shook her head slowly and turned to sit on the little stool.
  Debbie shrugged her shoulders.
  "Run the sponge over my back Debs."    
  She bent forwards and her daughter did her bidding.
  Taking her cue from the opposite corner, Jane dunked the sponge.
  Suzanne looked up at her through puffy eyes.  There was a thick 
stream of blood down her cleavage where the new flow of blood from 
her nose had joined the earlier mess from her poor mouth.  She saw 
the sponge coming and leant forwards, her blood smeared breasts 
crushing into her bare, brown thighs, her once white boxing gloves 
clamped round her pretty ankles.  Once Jane was done, she 
straightened, flopped her head back onto the corner padding and 
stretched her legs out into the ring, flexing her gaily painted 
toes.
  "Why are they doing this?" wondered Jane.
  She moved to wipe off Suzanne's messy face but she shook her head 
at the thought, "I'm alright Jane, leave it ok?"
  "You don't look ok," she thought, eyeing the little pool of blood 
forming in the big blonde's belly button.
  The bell clanged to signal the start of round seven and the two 
battered boxers duly stood.
  Debbie watched her mother's sweaty back as she swung the little 
wooden stool out of the boxing ring, "they still seem game enough," 
she thought.
  All too soon the leather began to fly again, heads were snapped 
back and breasts were crushed.  They simply exchanged punches, no 
guards were used, just give and take.  It was a miracle that neither 
went to the canvas during the three minutes of brutality.
  The crowd were loving it.  There was a low keen of disappointment 
when the bell sounded to end it.
  As Toni shuffled slowly back to her daughter another woman came to 
her corner.
  She was Martha, she boxed, not as often as many of the other 
women, but she was mainly known for her chest.  
She had the biggest breasts of any of the women of the WWBC.  They 
were forty sixers, the same as the two women in the ring, but 
physically much bigger, something like an F fitting.
  In the opposite corner, Jane went for the sponge again, but 
Suzanne waved her spattered right boxing glove, jerking her battered 
head towards Toni's corner and easing herself down onto the stool.
  She sat, Jane stood, both pairs of eyes on the big woman 
clambering awkwardly between the ropes opposite.
  At last she stood before the blood spattered Toni.
  Toni looked up at her with a resigned air.
  Martha had long, raven hair, styled in a single plait way down 
between her shoulders.  She wore a white blouse, with an obvious 
white bra beneath, a black leather skirt and knee length black 
leather boots.
  She bent down and spoke to the seated, suffering fighter.
  Toni nodded slowly.
  Straight away Martha began on the buttons of her thin, white 
blouse, but she was trembling so much............
  She looked desperately to the, out of depth, Debbie...........   
Debbie looked at her mother, unaware of what it was the big woman 
was really about.
  Toni nodded again and her daughter began to unbutton the blouse 
for the scared woman.  She pulled the shirt from the leather 
waistband of Martha's skirt.
  Martha indicated the clasp of her bra was beneath the plait 
between her shoulder blades.
  Glancing at her mother again, Debbie snapped the catch and 
released Martha's massive breasts.
  Martha shook her torso, thus swinging her great, brown breasts 
from side to side, her huge, black teats hung to her navel.  Through 
each nipple was a large, stainless steel ring very far back, where 
her teats joined her massive breasts.  Between the two chunky 
rings ran a short steel chain.
  Martha swallowed hard and turned to face Toni.
  "Which tit?" Toni asked, matter of factly.
  Unable to speak, Martha indicated her hanging left breast.
  "Fast or slow?"
  She had to reply, "slow," she breathed.
  Toni asked her wide eyed daughter to hold Martha's shaking 
shoulders.
  "It's what she wants love," she sighed, grabbing awkwardly at the 
chain with her right boxing glove.
  She began to pull slowly.
  At first the hole through Martha's left teat began to elongate, 
then, as Toni pulled harder, her whole breast began to assume a cone 
shape.  Soon the teat became unable to stand the strain any longer 
and it began to tear.
  Martha stood, her fists clenched, her lips a thin line.
  Blood began to drip onto the canvas between her and the seated 
boxer.
  Shaking her head, Debbie tightened her grip on the big woman's 
shoulders.
  At the same time her mother increased the tension on the chain.
  Several of the crowd were on their feet, others were blatantly 
frigging themselves furiously.
  The huge ring tore through what was left of Martha's left teat, 
blood spurted into Toni's eyes and the woman's ruined breast 
shlucked back onto her belly with a splat.
  Martha stood there, her mouth open now, in a silent scream, blood 
running down over her leather skirt and thighs as the bell clanged 
for the eighth time.
  The referee strode over, Debbie let go of Martha's heaving 
shoulders.
  The German spun the stunned Martha round, the freed chain whipped 
across her sectioned teat and this time she did mew in pain.  The 
referee more or less kicked her out of the ring and beckoned the two 
bloodied boxers to get stuck into one another again.  
They'd not been cleaned up, or attended to in any way during 
the all too brief inter round break, so they began round eight as blood 
spattered as they'd finished round seven.
  On the ring apron Debbie and Jane stood white faced, whilst Martha 
sat, bolt upright on one of the hard backed chairs near the ring 
side.
  The eyes of the women in the crowd darted from Martha to the 
events inside the ring, where Suzanne and Toni were still whacking 
one another in the face and tits with abandon.
  Martha sat, blood still pouring from her ruptured teat, down over 
her skirt, thighs, boots and the floor.
  Several of the scrubbers, sitting near her, gave her sideways 
looks, and the odd frown.
  Suddenly all attention switched back to the ring.
  A knock down, of sorts.   More of a fall caused by the inertia of 
Toni's wicked straight right.  The punch was neatly dodged by Su and 
Toni went headlong through the top two ring ropes.
  She looked faintly ridiculous, her big, sweaty bum stuck out into 
the ring as she flailed her boxing gloved hands behind her, trying to 
grab for the ring ropes.
  The referee looked at Suzanne as if to say, "what are you waiting 
for?"
  But Suzanne cast her eyes down and reached out for the top rope 
herself, seemingly glad of the chance for a breather.  
  After several seconds it became obvious to the referee that Su was 
not going to hit her entangled friend.  She strode over to where 
Toni was and, grabbing her by her hair, yanked her back into the pit 
of pain.
  Toni was spitting feathers when she and Suzanne faced up again.  
She drove her right fist into Suzanne's mouth as if to say, "dodge 
that one."
  The thinly padded knuckles split Suzanne's lower lip like an open 
pea pod.  Blood ran off the end of her chin as she tried to 
establish herself, after all, it was the beginning of the round.  
She could feel her warm blood trickling down her cleavage and belly.
  Some of the onlookers leaned forwards in their seats, savouring 
the sight of the profusely bleeding woman boxer, before resuming 
their ministrations.
  Again, it flashed through the brave blonde's mind that this injury 
was better than a cut eye.  It was such detachment that 
characterised this small group of women.  They all knew that if they 
got into the ring with the boxing gloves on against another woman of 
the same physique and determination, they'd be hurt.
  And now Su was hurting.
  Even Toni grimaced as she continued to flick her vicious left jab 
into her friend's poor face.  Both of the ridiculously small boxing 
gloves on her fists were wet with Su's face blood.
  Suzanne kept backing off whilst, at the same time, struggling to 
get back into the fight.
  Her head snapped back, her damp hair haloing her bloody face each 
time she copped one of Toni's stinging jabs.
  Jane turned away, pretending to busy herself in Su's corner.
  The end of the round saw Su backed against the ropes near Toni's 
corner, still taking leather in her face, with the occasional 
straight punch into her swelling, blood spattered breasts.
  Debbie, just a couple of feet away, felt the tiny droplets of 
sweat on her own cheek as Su's hair whipped around with each heavy 
punch.
  Jane sighed with relief when the bell finally clanged.
  She had to face Suzanne, the brave boxer could hardly see her 
stool when she returned to her corner, so full of tears were her 
puffy eyes after three minutes of punching, mainly to her nose and 
face in general throughout round eight.  If Jane had known anything 
about boxing she'd have known that Su's nose had been broken during 
the round.
  As their last fight had gone to eighteen rounds, so there was a 
possibility that she faced the prospect of maybe at least another 
ten brutal rounds, boxing with a broken nose.
  Jane took in all the blood down over Suzanne's breasts, belly and 
thighs.
  Su made it plain that she was hurting too much to allow the 
frightened second to clean her up.
  Jane just stood, mouth open, eyes wide.
  Toni herself still in a mess, almost gloated, she clearly couldn't 
wait for the start of round nine.
  Even the harder bitten of the onlookers were wishing for a more 
even contest.       
  Suddenly Martha rose unsteadily from her chair and walked to the 
nearest neutral corner.  She half turned so that the onlookers and 
the boxers and their seconds could see the front of her.  Blood 
still wept from her ripped left nipple, down over her belly and 
skirt. Her left thigh too was wet with her blood.  She hiked her 
leather skirt up round her waist and began to pick at the tie 
sides of her little, white cotton g string.  She tucked the string 
into her waistband and stood feet apart, thrusting her shaved 
pubis forward.  There were several rings evident through her 
fleshy cunt lips, but the most obvious was a huge stainless steel 
ring horizontally through her very prominent clitoris.  From the 
ring hung a short steel chain with a loop on the very end, hanging to 
where her leather boots ended, between her trembling knees.
  She closed her eyes.
  Grabbing the ring with both hands she pulled up slowly but 
steadily.
  All eyes in the hall were on her straining flesh.
  At first her clitoris was pulled further out of its little hood, 
the deep piercing elongated alarmingly.
  With what could best be described as a squeak, she yanked on the 
loop and the big ring tore out.  Blood literally squirted out of her 
engorged clit, it looked as if she was pissing herself to start 
with, then the blood eased to a steady stream down her thick thighs, 
into the tops of her long, leather boots.  She leant her heaving 
shoulders onto the back of the corner padding.
  The two seconds were too shocked to attend to the boxers and they 
stood for round nine having done two rounds without being cleaned up 
at all.
  The mean German woman threw Martha out of the ring again and she 
lay on the floor, where she landed, trembling and sobbing.  One of 
the onlookers eventually dragged her to her chair.  She sat, grey 
with pain, still bleeding copiously from her ripped cunt.
  In the ring too, a blood bath as the two boxers stoically hammered 
one another, mostly in the face but also with the occasional cruel 
blows to their swollen, blood spattered breasts.
  Both the young seconds busied themselves in their respective 
corners, trying to distance themselves from the carnage taking place 
just feet from them, involving their mother and her best friend.
  At last the bell clanged and the two brave women disengaged and 
turned for their corners.
  If both came out for the next round and, judging by the amount of 
blood down over the front of each of them, it was by no means 
certain, then, they'd be in double figures from the point of view of 
the number of rounds they'd fought.  
  Debbie moved to wipe off the worst of the blood from her mother's 
cut and bruised face, but she waved a blood sodden boxing glove so 
she began to fan her gently with the large, once white towel.
  Suzanne too sat, bearing her pain in the opposite corner.
  In her heart of hearts, Jane knew that her charge would go out for 
the tenth.  She couldn't know how the brutal fight would end but she 
was sure that it wouldn't be easy for either of the hurting women.
  Again they stood, as messy as they'd ended the previous round, 
they touched gloves, tacitly acknowledging the start of the tenth 
three minutes of boxing.
  Jane turned away again as Toni powered a straight right into 
Suzanne's already badly broken nose.  Even some of the ringsiders 
felt the spots and gouts of blood flying from her streaming nose.  
She was temporarily blinded, by tears of pain and reaction to the 
cruel punch.  Toni hit her very hard in her taut right breast, 
bringing her soggy gloves down, away from her busted nose.
  Toni uppercut her to the chin and she stumbled, another straight 
right to her nose saw Suzanne falling, her bare bum hit the canvas 
first, then her broad shoulders.  Arms akimbo, she lay on her back, 
her boxing gloves palm upwards on the dirty ring floor.
  Toni stood over her, her gloves planted firmly on her bare, broad 
hips.
  For all the state Suzi was in, Toni knew it would take more than 
that cruel punch straight into her broken nose to finish her.

      
    
  At last, in round nineteen, Toni managed to put Su down properly.  
On her haunches for a couple of minutes at least, head on one side, 
blood dripping steadily from her busted nose and mouth, down over 
her bloody, mottled breasts and her streaked thighs.  
She had her sodden four ouncers curled round the insides of her thighs, 
gripping tightly.  
  The referee had had enough, she marched up to Toni.
  "You going to finish her off?"
  "I'm not touching her while she's on the canvas."
  The referee thrust her large, strong hands between Su's elbows and 
her heaving sides, under her blood wet breasts.  Interlocking her 
fingers, she pulled the broken woman to her blood spattered, bare 
feet. 
  She shouted to Toni, "she's on her feet now!"
  Toni came forward tentatively, partly due to the effects of her 
own injuries, partly fearful for her friend.  She knew the only, 
quick way to put Su to  sleep was to knock her out with heavy blows 
to her head.  She pulled her wet, useless right boxing glove back 
and smacked it, as hard as she could, into the side of Su's ruined face.
  She sagged.
  Toni punched her in the face again, her left eyebrow split, 
bloodily.
  Toni closed her eyes briefly.
  The referee nodded, and Toni whacked Su with a left cross to the 
right side of her face, bringing her head upright again.  She put 
all she had into a crushing straight right, blood spurted from Su's 
already badly broken nose, she became deadweight for the 
frustrated referee, who, at last let her slip through her blood 
smeared arms onto the spattered ring floor.
  The referee wiped her gory hands on the bottom of her scruffy tee 
shirt, Toni stood bowed over, her own face blood splashed onto the 
stained canvas of her beloved boxing ring.
  While the referee, uncharacteristically put Su into the recovery 
position, where she lay, in a puddle of her own blood, Toni noticed, 
through her puffy eyes, Martha, painfully dragging herself into the 
ring.
  Clad in just her leather skirt and boots, blood all down her left 
side and still running down her thighs into the boots, she leant 
back against the corner post and looked pleadingly at Toni.
  Somehow she'd managed the join the chain, which she'd recently 
torn from her clitoris to the length of chain which remained 
attached to her swollen, erect right nipple.
  The crowd, which until now had indulged in a light ripple of 
applause and the odd sigh of relief, hushed as Toni shuffled over to 
the trembling woman.
  Martha was grey with pain, despite her dark complexion.
  Toni pawed for the loop at the end of the chain with her blood 
heavy boxing gloves.  She wrapped the chain awkwardly round her 
right glove and looked Martha in the eye.
  She nodded.
  Toni leant back on her crimson adorned, crimson stained, bare 
feet.
  A hissed chant of "yes......." emanated from the frenzied crowd.
  Toni's strong arm jerked and Martha's other teat bloodily gave up 
it's ring, Martha stared open mouthed at the bloody ring hanging 
from Toni's messy boxing glove, there was a small piece of her right 
nipple still attached to it.
  The crowd went wild as Martha went to her knees, blood dripping 
from her ripped clitoris and spurting from what was left of her 
right teat.
  She smiled knowingly at Toni.
  Toni pulled her right glove back behind her, chain still wrapped 
round it, and uppercut Martha in the centre of her face as hard as 
she could.
  Martha sighed as she fell forwards onto her rent breasts, a pool 
of blood forming under her poor head.
  Toni's broad, bloody shoulders sagged visibly while she watched 
Martha and her friend, Suzanne writhing on the spattered canvas.
  She shuffled her bare feet over to her corner.
  Debbie swung the little wooden stool out for her and, grabbing her 
mother's right hand, unwound the cruel chain from her boxing glove, 
before dropping it with disgust onto the canvas.
  Toni lowered her bare, sweaty bum onto the stool, "Debs, I put an 
old bra into one of my jacket pockets, do you think you could put it 
on for me?" croaked Toni.
  "I'll take your gloves off for you shall I?" asked Debbie.
  "I'd like to keep them on until the last minute," replied Toni 
with a weak smile on her swollen, cut lips.
  Debbie came back with the huge, white bra.  From the ring apron, 
she wrapped the garment round her mother's bloody waist and, with 
some difficulty, snapped the straining hooks and eyes together.  She 
dragged the straps over Toni's aching shoulders and began to ladle 
her mother's huge, blood wet breasts into the big bra cups.
  "That's better," sighed Toni once her daughter had her swollen 
tits confined in the bra and she'd shaken her torso to settle them 
in further.  She looked down at her chest and the bloodstains 
already spreading from her cleavage onto the massive white bra.  
She shook her head and stood unsteadily.  She paused a few seconds 
before going to her friend, now being helped to sit up by her white 
faced second.
  Jane looked up at her towering mother, a coldness in her eyes.
  "It was a fair fight," snapped her mother.
  Jane held up the towel she'd been dabbing Su's pulped face with.  
It was soaked and heavy with blood.
  "Come on, let's get her back to her corner," she motioned for 
Debbie to come and give a hand too.
  Toni in fact left her daughters to see to Suzanne while she padded 
over to Martha, now propped with her back against the corner 
padding, her heavy leather skirt rucked up around her messy belly.
  Blood now dripped from her riven clit, onto the canvas of the ring 
floor.
  "We'd better get your boots off," sighed Toni, they looked too 
expensive to be left full of gore.
  Martha tried to reach down for the zip, but she was too slow for 
Toni.
  "Here, let me."
  She dropped gently to her bloody knees, but she'd forgotten about 
her boxing gloves.
  "Sorry, you'll have to do it, I've still got my gloves on."
  Martha got both zips down to her ankles and she winced as she 
struggled to get her feet out of the sodden leather.
  Her legs and feet were wet with the blood that had run from her 
torn clitoris.
  Toni swept the boots out of the ring with her boxing gloved hands.
  "Let me help you up," she said.
  She stood and held out her soggy boxing gloves.
  Martha raised her arms and took the gloves gingerly.
  She yanked her leather skirt down her sturdy thighs, hiding her 
still dripping clit.
  Toni stood back                    
  Martha smiled at her weakly, the blood around her nose and mouth 
had dried, her torn nipples had stopped dripping, she didn't look to 
bad at all now, if she ignored all the blood down her legs and feet.
  "Ok?" she asked.
  "I'm still hurting a bit, but I'll live," she sighed, "I think 
I've overdone it that's all."
  Toni turned away, heading back to Suzanne's corner.
  Martha's hand gingerly fingered her poor cunt.
  She pulled her blood wet hand away, "finish me off," she begged.   
Toni looked back over her shoulder, incredulous.
  Was this the subconscious reason for her keeping her gloves on?
  "Are you sure?" she sighed.
  Martha nodded slowly, she cupped her sacklike tits in her hands.
  "Yes, finish the job," she panted.