Wife Beater.
By Smac
Spurned wife and the husband's new woman settle the score with boxing gloves on.

Corrected 4/07/2001


Carol Langley's fingers trembled slightly as she opened the large 
manila envelope. It had arrived sooner than she'd dare hope.



The references to the London address made her grit her teeth, the 
one to 'The Maples' almost made her grin. She knew all about the 
flat of course. When she'd married Mark she'd known what she was 
taking on. He had a1ways been a philandering bastard, that was his 
major fault but, at the time, like most women she 'thought' she 
would he able to cure him or it. And, then as later in their 
marriage, she felt lucky to be his wife. True she'd provided him 
with a certain social status and a little money, but he'd been a 
very fair way up the ladder even before they'd met. Like this 
carrying on, she'd come to accept 'the flat' and its implications. 
Indeed for the last six months or so he'd not even bothered to phone 
her if he'd no intention of making it back to Ascot.
It had still been something of a blow when he did leave her. She 
thought it was just a few nights stand when he failed to appear one 
weekend about four months ago. Then Monday and Tuesday passed. On 
the Wednesday she'd phoned his London office and asked to speak to 
him. The receptionist had put her through on the nod and she found 
herself talking to him directly.
"Yes," he had left her.
"Yes," for good.
Was he at the flat, pause, "No."

She cried for a couple of days, spent a morning shredding the 
clothes he'd left at the house, then confided in the housekeeper, 
Mrs. Steadman.
Who was no fool.
She'd had the last few years to prepare herself for this moment.
She wanted several things saved from the wreckage of their 
marriage. Although she was only an employee, she still loved the 
plain jane, Carol and, above all she wanted to see her better off 
financially than before she'd met and married Mark. Secondly she 
didn't like him, so revenge was also the order of the day. Lastly, 
as well as being her place of work she looked on the house as her 
home and so she couldn't face the thought of moving anywhere else.
She began to put her plan into action, she hadn't been able to make 
a move until 'her' Mrs. Langley had broached the subject, now she 
was ready to fire on all cylinders.
She fished noisily in her capacious, black handbag. "here, Mrs. 
Langley, he's the friend of a friend so to speak."
Carol had looked quizzically at the card.
'C. Parker - Private Investigator.'
"Your husband won't see you right willingly you know," snapped Mrs. 
S.
"If I may take the liberty I'll call in later this afternoon and 
ask him to telephone you for an appointment."
Carol nodded.	
She was rather stunned by her companion's business like manner.
Now, four days later, she held Mr. Cyril Parker's interim report on 
her husband's latest and most serious infidelity before her.


Subject Dossier 

Client's Copy.




20/01/91




	Name Toni Francies
	Address	14, North Street
		 Upper Heeding
		 West Sussex Telephone 0273 81769
	
 11, Langham Tower
		 Short's Gardens
		 LONDON
	 WC2	Telephone 081 815683

Car	White VW Golf. Registration mark G435 TUU



Personal details

Age. 31

Date of Birth n/k


Occupation Photographic model and night club entertainer 
Education B. Ed. (St. Marks & Pauls, Exmouth).

Physical characteristics.	(Photograph enclosed)

	Height	5' 10"
	Weight	11 at.
	Stats.	44DD-25-36
Colour of hair	Light brown
Colour of eyes	Blue

(See further details below).


Known Associates and Associations.

Mr. Mark Langley.
11, Langham Tower
The Maples
Kings Ride
Ascot
BERKS.

Miss. Anne Francies
Address Unknown

Miss. Tessa Francies (daughter), aged 6.


Financial details.

Latest bank statement attached. (No other capital known).
Clubs, organisations and affiliations.

Her agent, name supplied but not relevant, contracts her to many 
video and publicity companies, (see also below).

Publicity etc.

She has appeared in many videos, both for home consumption and 
export. Her exaggerated figure categorises her for work in such 
magazines as Amazons and Bouncy, while her video releases include 
Busty Clips and, for the German market, Der Grossen Busen etc.
We have viewed several of the videos and can, so to speak, put some 
flesh on the photograph supplied.
She has a fairly strong Sussex accent, her hair, as you see, is 
shoulder length but is nearly always brushed up over her right ear 
and is secured there somehow. Hence it tends to give the impression 
of being fairly straight on the left hand side whilst being quite 
curly on the right. She nearly always wears black underwear, lacy 
bra and briefs, although in a couple of video scenes she seem to 
favour white g-strings. Both left and right ring fingers are 
adorned with rings. On her left hand she wears a gold wedding band 
and an engagement ring. Of her most obvious features, her bust 
measurement is 44DD, but her right breast is much bigger than her 
left, as is the areola of the right breast. Both breasts, in normal 
posture, tend to hang to her navel, the right most certainly.


Additional Information.

Various sources, some unfortunately hearsay but none the less 
credible, affirm that Miss Francies enjoys combative sports and 
trains hard in support of this interest. She has wrestled 
professionally and has even boxed in private on numerous occasions. 
As far as we know there is no published evidence of these 
activities but her sister, Miss. Anne Francies, contacted by us on 
another matter corroborated our evidence that she regularly takes 
part in fights with other women.


"Toni, that seems an odd name, but as for the bosom, yes that's 
just up Mark's alley."
She looked again at the colour photograph of her adversary.
"Adversary," she mouthed, "yes that's a good word."
Her eyes had lit up when she'd noted Parker's comments on the 
woman's fighting activities.
She pushed the report away from her and stood up she hadn't felt 
this good in weeks.

The Maples boasted a large, well equipped gym. Both she and Mark 
were keep fit fanatics and she did body building and combat sports too.
She looked wistfully at the little used boxing ring set up in a 
corner.
"I wonder?" she thought.
The photograph and physical details of Toni had shown her to be a 
big girl, in more ways than one, but she'd fought bigger women 
before.
Indeed, most women were bigger than she, at only five foot four.
It was too late to do anything about it now, besides she felt she'd 
rather sleep on it.

Next morning, after a restless night, she made up her mind.
"Do you know I've a mind to teach this blasted woman a lesson she 
won't forget," she confided in Mrs. Steadman.
"Oh no, I shouldn't do anything rash," she cautioned, "you may 
prejudice your rights in the divorce court."
"No, this will just be between us," smiled Carol.
She'd try the flat first.
The phone rang a couple of times and then, bingo Madame answered.
"This is Carol Langley here." 
There was a long pause, "Yes?"
"I understand you like to fight?" 
Another pause.
"Yes."
"How about you coming to Ascot and we'll see who's the better 
woman, just between the two of us you understand?"
Another, even longer, pause.
"Just you and me?"
"You can bring a second, I'll have someone to help me."
"With the gloves on?" came the guarded reply.
"If you dare."
"When?"
"Whenever you're ready."
"Friday night?"
"Eight o'clock. Oh, and if you want to know the way you can always 
ask my husband," Carol added cattily.

Toni put the phone down and returned to the lounge. 
That was Mark's missus, only wants to fight me."
Anne, Toni's sister, grinned and said cheerily, "where? can I 
come?"
Toni's face clouded over, she didn't really re1ish the idea of 
boxing an unknown quantity, "yes, of course you can."
"I may need you," she added, under her breath.
"When is it?" asked her sister.
"Friday."
"Doesn't give you much time."
"Long enough," growled Toni.
She'd last boxed six months before, it had been a pretty tough 
fight against one of her regular opponents. Susan was a big woman 
and always took some putting away. Toni hadn't actually lost to her 
yet but her breasts were very badly swollen after the twelve 
rounds. Put then she was used to that. She thought of Susan 
hopelessly tangled in the ropes, her pulped face and hard swollen 
tits and remembered the feeling at the time. There was no other 
quite like it.
Anne jerked her back to the present.
"Are you ready for a fight?"
"I'm always ready for a fight," grinned Toni.
But more seriously she added, "I'm off to the gym for an hour or 
two, let yourself out. Oh, and give me a ring tomorrow and we'll 
make arrangements for Friday."
Toni knew she had to get the bag gloves on as soon as possible and 
get some work in on the heavy bag. It wasn't physical preparation 
she needed, she needed to bring her latent aggression to the fore 
and the bag was one of the best ways she knew. While she drove to 
the gym she tried to remember the photographs she'd seen in the 
albums at the flat. Those of Mark and his wife, Carol.
By the time she was changed and in the work out area she had 
Carol's round, pretty features firmly in her mind and she imagined 
the bag to be the wife's face.
She was drenched in sweat by the time she returned to the changing 
rooms.
"You training for something special?" asked one of the club 
regulars.
"Yes, you could say that."

It was agreed that Anne would come to pick her up at five or 
Friday. 
Toni had to face up to the fact that she may be in no condition to 
drive herself back. It wasn't a defeatist posture it was more cold 
feminine pragmatism.
She took her time getting ready to leave. It shouldn't have taken 
her too 1ong actually for all she wore was a white cotton tanga, 
her green plunge necked dress and white sling hack shoes.
Just before the car horn honked she grabbed her latest purchase, a 
broad, black leather belt and buckled it tightly round her waist.
She felt good.
Down in Ascot Carol too had been girding her loins.
Once she'd won Mrs. Steadman over she'd been a great help in terms 
of morale, she didn't really approve or Carol's interest in body 
building, boxing and wrestling, but the prospect or this damn woman 
getting her comeuppance was all too tempting. She'd watched Carol 
working out, for the first time ever, and had to admit to herself 
that she was impressed. She didn't know much about physical jerks 
and so on but she was impressed by Carol's hard, stocky body, When 
Carol had sparred a couple or rounds with a friend of her's on the 
Wednesday she even found herself urging them both on to punch one 
another harder. But Carol, sensibly, had kept the practice bout 
carefully under control, she could risk no injury whatsoever before 
Friday.
She left Mrs. S. in the gym and went to change out of her habitual 
track suit. She stood naked in front of her bedroom mirror.  She 
didn't look bad for thirty three. Her blonde hair cut in page boy 
sty1e, It would give her no trouble in the ring. Her round face 
with it's big cow eyes was pretty enough. She just wished she were 
a few inches taller, eleven stones crammed into five foot four meant 
that, despite her body being lean and hard, she tended to look dumpy. 
She hefted her thirty nine inch tits before cramming them into a lacy, 
white bra. Her tiny white briefs strained over her hips and bum. 
She chose her new white stretch mini dress and red high heels. 
She didn't want to look too much the mistress of the house. 
The look on Mrs. Steadman's face when she re-entered the gym told 
her that she had in a large part succeeded.
Mrs. S. held up the white four ounce leather boxing gloves that 
Carol had put out for the fight, "this is going to be a blood bath 
isn't it?" asked her worried companion.	
"I hope so," replied Carol calmly.
In the ring, in addition to the little boxing gloves, there were 
two white plastic topped stools, white plastic buckets and bottles 
and two enormous white towels. Mrs. S., also still in the boxing 
ring, looked like a fish out of water. She wore her greying hair in 
the inevitable bun, a fussy white blouse, tweed skirt and sensible, 
flat shoes. She ducked creakily between the ropes.
"Well I hope you know what you're doing."
"I'm going to box the woman who stole my husband, and like with any 
boxing match I don't know what will happen, you never do when you 
climb into the ring. It's a brutal way to settle a dispute but it's 
the ultimate way, one of us is going to lose, that's the only sure 
thing."
She took one more lingering look at the tidy boxing ring and the 
room surrounding it.
By the time they reached the reception hall Toni and Anne were at 
the door.
There was nothing to say, they didn't attempt a greeting, even Anne 
and Mrs. S, were tight lipped. 
She went ahead with the two visitors while Carol shut the door 
before following them up the corridor. She had to admit that Toni 
looked impressive, she especially liked the colour and the way she 
carried the green dress. 
Anne, her sister, 1ooked a proper tart. Thin white blouse showing 
the skimpy bra beneath, short black leather skirt and very high 
black heels.
Toni showed no emotion when she saw the boxing ring in the gym.
She tossed her handbag on the floor as if to say, "right let's get 
on with it." 
Mrs. S. handed Anne the tiny white gloves and the shorts for her 
sister.
Toni made a grab for the shorts, stretching them up in front of her 
impassive face. She seemed to approve.
She frowned when Anne handed her one of the tiny white four ouncers 
but tossed it back to her with the slightest nod and kicked off her 
white high heels.
It was as if someone had thrown a switch, Anne and Mrs. introduced 
themselves and Toni climbed in through the ring ropes.
Carol, kicking off her red shoes, fol1owed and went to the opposite 
corner. There'd be no dressing room for them, they were in too much 
of a hurry to get at one another, they'd strip ready for the punch 
up where they stood, in the boxing ring.
Mrs. Steadman disapproved of the human body and had railed against 
Carol's decision to box wearing just the shiny white shorts, so she 
found herself something to do in a corner of the gym till she was 
needed. 
Anne, on the other hand, took a great interest in both of 
the boxers.
Carol, deciding to see what this Toni was made of, leaned hack 
casually on her corner padding to watch the big woman strip off.
First she unbuckled the broad, black leather belt and whipped it 
over the top rope of the ring. Then she turned her back to her 
sister and got her to unzip the back of her dress. She eased it off 
her broad shoulders, wriggled her hefty hips before stepping out of 
it and handing it to Anne. She was left in her beautiful white 
underwear. The back catch of her substantial bra took some fiddling 
with before it yielded and she was able to strip the lacy cups away 
from her massive breasts.
Even Carol marvelled at them, just as the dossier said, they hung 
down to her waist, but still appeared firm enough, she felt quite 
small breasted compared to this. Her thirty nine inchers suffered 
every time she put the gloves on, but what must this woman go 
through? She thought to herself that the whole of the front of 
Toni's body was breast, her abdomen was masked by her bosom.
She held Carol's eyes while she dug her thumbs into the waistband 
of her tiny panties and, pulling them to her knees, stepped out of 
them. She stood unashamedly naked, hands on hips her great breast 
and clean shaven pubic mound thrust forwards defiantly.
Carol took the hint.
She wriggled out of the stretch dress, draped it over the top rope, 
snapped the catch of her bra and released her chest. She massaged 
the fat breasts with her hands before peeling off her panties and 
handing them to Mrs. S., now returned to her side.
She thought for a moment about boxing like this, naked but no she'd 
bought the shorts especially and she'd no intention of letting 
anything spoil what plans she had made for this fight.
So she indicated to Mrs. S. and daintily stepped into the tiny 
white silk shorts, pulling, them up tightly into her own bare 
vulva. She'd had them specially made, once she'd known Toni's 
measurements. They were but ten inches long so, even pulled right 
up into her crotch as her's were, the thin waistband was still way 
below her navel. Her belly bulged out over the shorts a little but 
she couldn't help that.
Toni snorted and drew on her own shorts. 
Anne nodded in approval.
Carol had to admit the shiny shorts looked very well on her. At the 
same time she thought of the old cliché about the silk shorts and a 
boxing ring being part of the recipe for legalized brutality and 
blood lust. With these thoughts in her mind she held out her 
trembling hands to the po faced Mrs. Steadman.
She had prepared several strips of white surgical tape for each 
corner. She took two from the top rope near Carol's blonde head and 
carefully taped over her mistress's knuckles. Their eyes met, 
briefly and even the detached Mrs. S. caught the doubt in her cow 
like eyes. She tutted quietly as she pushed the lethal little white 
leathers onto Carol's fists. 
She laced them tightly and secured the laces firmly to the cuffs 
with more white surgical tape.
"You look as if you've been doing that all your life," joked Carol 
in an attempt to defuse the atmosphere.
Mrs. Steadman managed a brief smile but her face turned back to 
stone as she watched the leather skirted Anne gloving up her 
statuesque sister.
Toni pounded her fists together as soon as her gloves were fixed. 
The sound was heavy and Carol tried not to imagine what it would be 
like to have to take such punches in her face and, worse still, her 
big, soft breasts.
Carol indicated to Mrs. S. that she was ready and the auto clock 
was started, giving the boxers ten seconds grace before the leather 
would begin to fly.
Toni seemed readily to accept the fact that there would be no 
referee, indeed she grinned broadly at her sister before moving out 
into the centre of the ring when the buzzer sounded. She loomed 
over Carol, who stood with hunched shoulders, white gloves under 
her white chin. 
Her right fist buried itself in Toni's great left breast.
The big woman's upper lip curled and she punched Carol hard in the 
mouth.
The die was cast.
Mrs. Steadman's jaw hung open, she wasn't sure she could stay and 
watch this.
In contrast Toni's sister, Anne hung on the top rope leering at the 
boxers, shouting encouragement to her sister, her short, black 
leather skirt riding way up her brown thighs.
Carol felt her thick lips becoming awkward, although she'd dearly 
love to mess up the other girl's face two things militated against 
it.	She hadn't the reach to do a really good job whilst Toni was 
still fighting fit and secondly, there were two much more 
accessible targets for her to punish. Indeed, she could hardly 
avoid hitting the breasts as they covered almost the whole of 
Toni's frontal objective area. 
She wondered at their resilience as she whacked both fists into 
them, whilst Toni battered her round the cheeks and mouth.
Of course they wore no gum shields and, by the time the first three 
minutes were up, Carol was spitting blood whilst Toni's tits were 
red and beginning to swell noticeably.
"I can take those bee stings all night," she boasted to Anne.
Her sister dabbed at the flaming breast flesh with a damp sponge.
"I wouldn't like to take one of those punches," she thought.
Toni felt great satisfaction as she watched Mrs. S. squeamishly 
sponging off her charge's bloody chin. It was then that she decided 
to ruin Carol's pretty face.
"Their bare feet padded across the canvas as they came out for the 
second round. A right cross from Toni, her most lethal punch, sent 
the woman sprawling across the ring, she ended up with her head and 
shoulders out through the top and middle ropes. Her gloves dangling 
loosely, her eyes were glazed, only the ropes held her up, the 
shiny white silk strained over her broad bum, her knees quivered.
Anne roughly heaved up the top rope and pushed hard on the top of 
Carol's head. She turned clumsily and did the only thing she could, 
cup her little boxing gloves over her poor face.
Toni willingly took the opportunity to show her opponent what the 
four ounce boxing gloves felt like, pounding into her undefended 
breasts.
The game Carol wouldn't go down, she took everything that Toni 
threw her way. For the whole of the round her heavy breasts were as 
a punch bag for the big woman. She was ashen faced as she dropped 
her gloves away and turned for the sanctuary of her corner.
"One punch," she mumbled, "that first punch, fucked me up for the 
whole round." 
She knew she'd have to do whatever she could to avoid that right 
cross, that is if she saw it coming next time.
By the buzzer she was her normal self. She came out towards the 
imposing figure from the opposite corner. She kept one eye on the 
white leather laced onto Toni's right fist, as she would for the 
rest of the fight.
The third round was similar to the first, thankfully for Carol. 
Although she took her share of straight rights and lefts to the 
face, she got as many thumps into Toni's fast swelling breasts.
Mrs. Steadman cupped her face in her hands and tipped her head back 
to catch the light. She'd watched the hard punches thudding into 
Carol's face during the three minutes of boxing. There was an 
ominous looking swelling under her left eye and the eye itself 
looked dark and puffy. Her mouth as rather messy but once she'd 
wiped the blood off the strong chin and dabbed at the lips it 
didn't look too bad.
Anne spent the break easing her sister's titanic tits with a sopping 
sponge, rivulets of cold water ran down over her belly to darken 
the white silk of her little shorts. 
The buzzer went for the fourth.
One particular straight right to the face, about a minute into the 
round, brought a trickle of blood from each of Carol's nostrils, to 
join that which had streamed over her chin since the start of the 
fight. Despite her second's mopping operations during the breaks 
the upper slopes of the blonde's baggy breasts were smudged and 
splashed with her blood.
Toni's injuries, though less obvious, were beginning to tell, she 
felt that she needed to peer over her swelling breasts in order to 
target the smaller girl's bloody face. Her breasts ached a good 
deal but she was well used to that, it was the swelling which 
bothered her more. She knew that the more her massive tits swelled, 
The tighter the delicate skin of her saucer like areolas became. 
She'd only been split a couple of times, and then only slightly, 
but she'd no desire to have the experience repeated.  That, and the 
blood coming from her opponent's nose, spurred her on.  She really 
began to put her shoulder behind her right fist as she smashed her 
leather covered knuckles into Carol's soft face.
The lower half of her face and her chest was covered with her blood 
by the time she turned for her corner at the end of the brutal 
round.
Mrs. Steadman tutted, an 'I told you so', as she gently applied the 
sponge.
"It's only a nose bleed," growled Carol. 
"I've never been in a boxing match when I haven't been hurt. I was 
prepared for a punch up when I got into the ring."
Mrs. Steadman nodded unconvinced.
Carol's face was still wet with blood when she got up for the 
fifth.  Her second hadn't bothered to wipe over her chest during the 
break at all so her chest was still spattered too.
Toni kept up her barrage, with Carol digging her painfully in the 
tits whenever she could.  It was only the combination of the big 
woman's sloppy defence and the leather thudding into her own face 
which governed the amount of work she could put in on Toni's huge 
breasts.
Close to the end of the round Toni was sure she felt Carol's poor 
nose give under her thinly covered knuckles. 
With all the blood already down over her front, it was difficult to 
see any difference at first but, just before they broke away from 
one another, she was gratified to see two thick streams of blood 
running from the other girl's nostrils.
Toni swaggered over to her sister.
"I think I've broken her nose," she blurted to Anne.
The way Carol winced when Mrs. S. went to sponge her face more or 
less confirmed it.
"I think I'll give the sponge a miss from now on," she whispered to 
her shocked second.
So, when she shuffled out for the sixth, her blood had even begun 
to stain the front of her boxing shorts.
Unmoved by the plight of her opponent, Toni threw one of her 
devastating right crosses.
Carol hadn't even got her guard up, let alone begun to look for 
that right fist. It was debatable whether she would see anything 
out of her left eye for a day or two. The glove smacked into her 
eye socket, damaging the already bruised eye so badly that it 
swelled like a chicken's egg almost immediately and the eye closed 
tight shut.
The sheer power of the punch had forced her onto her knees and she 
looked a sorry sight as she knelt there, the big woman standing 
threatingly over her, hands tightly fisted in her blood smudged 
white boxing gloves.
Mrs. S, called for her to stay down. She couldn't face the thought 
of her Carol getting up to face the wicked white leather gloves, 
especially as she was already so badly injured.
She looked terrible, her tits, belly and shorts were wet with blood 
and, as she knelt there on her haunches, even her thighs were 
becoming spattered.
There were real tears in her eyes as she pushed off the once white 
canvas of her beloved boxing ring. She knew there were still nearly 
three minutes to the bell for all the good that would do her, she 
knew that she was going to be tested to the absolute limit against 
this woman. She'd been in tough fights before, but there'd always 
been a chance.  Here she, and the other three women in the 
room, knew what the eventual outcome of the boxing ring, the silk 
shorts and, most of all, the tiny, hard white leathers.
She was a broken woman when she staggered over to her corner at the 
end of the fifth.  What was uppermost in her fogged mind was that 
she hadn't been able to hit Toni properly once since her eye had 
been closed.
Mrs. Steadman shuddered, she was afraid to touch her charge's 
ruined face anywhere and Carol was left to sit hunched over on her 
stool, blood splashing onto her bare feet.
Anne was so excited she too left her sister to sit out the break 
while she urged, "kill the little bitch, knock her fucking head 
off."
Toni would put her away in the next round, the sixth, if she 
possibly could, not just from the point of view of a victory, hit 
also because she knew that her tits were at the level of swelling 
when they were liable to split if caught with an effective punch.
Carol raised herself stoically, she tried to focus her right eye. 
Toni marched over and uppercut in the belly for a change.
She knocked her breath out and her own chest and shoulders were 
dotted with the other girl's blood. While she glanced down at the 
splashes of blood on her front, Carol, from somewhere mustered up a 
left uppercut which lifted her massive right breast bodily. The 
sharp pain dulled Toni's reactions giving Carol time to follow up 
with a last ditch straight right into the same sack like tit. Her 
vagina clenched as she watched the big woman stagger away from the 
blow. She didn't go down but blood began to bubble from her teat as 
she stood there, gloved hands on hips, watching the blood running 
from her own breast. Then she went wild, blood flying from her tit 
as she smashed her blood sodden four ouncers into Carol 's already 
ruined face and broken nose. 
Even Anne had shut up now, all that could be heard was the thud of 
the wet boxing g1oves and Carol's dull moans and gasps. 
All the movement worsened the blood loss from Toni's tit, her 
belly, shorts and right thigh were wet with blood by the time 
Carol was on her back.
"Please,"' shuddered Mrs. S, "stay down this time."
Toni stood there for some time, blood sodden boxing gloves planted 
on her impressive hips, the blood from her ruptured teat splashing 
onto her bare feet. When she seemed satisfied that Carol was not 
going to get up in a hurry she marched over and grabbed her by the 
hair, shaking her head so violently that it thudded on the ring 
floor.
"Come on you "bitch, I'm not done with you yet," she panted, "you 
wanted a winner and a loser, well I'm going to rub your nose in 
it."
Carol's eyelids fluttered and she threw her battered head back onto 
the canvas.
Toni strode over to her sister, "get these stupid shorts off me."
Anne gingerly put her fingers in the waistband of the blood 
spattered shorts and, while her sister wriggled her great hips, 
pulled them down her bloody thighs. She flung them with a splat 
onto the polished floorboards outside the ring.
Toni returned to her fallen opponent, it was obvious to all but 
Mrs. Steadman what she intended.
Carol pushed off the ring floor with her boxing gloves till she 
could curl her feet round and kneel upright. 
What a sight she made. 
Two thick streams of brood still ran slowly from her nostrils, her 
tits, belly, shorts and thighs were soaked with blood. She snuffled 
through her broken nose and spilt lips.
Toni grabbed her clumsily by the hair with her gloved hands and 
pulled her face into the shaven mound of her pubis, she split her 
thighs and pushed her pelvis forward mashing Carol's poor face into 
her very womanhood.
Mrs. S. stood dumbfounded but Anne by the opposite corner, already 
had one hand up her skirt.
It was obvious that Carol had bitten the big woman, she shrieked 
and brought her left glove round in a great arc with culminated in 
Carol's right eye socket. She fell on her face, effectively blind 
with both eyes swollen tight shut.
Toni hauled her up by her hair again, "finish the job bitch, if you 
use your teeth again I'll kill you."
Mrs. Steadman was convinced that she really might. She watched the 
big bruised woman's sister, her short leather skirt up around her 
waist, one hand down her little panties, frigging herself for all 
she was worth.
Carol's streaming face was again rammed up between Toni great 
thighs and her big buttocks heaved and quivered as she met Carol's 
feeble licks of her clitoris with her own pelvic thrusts. Her mouth 
hung open as she panted her way toward a great and noisy orgasm. 
She flung the hapless Carol to one side and jammed her blood sodden 
right boxing, glove down between her legs to savour the moment. She 
stumbled, backwards, to her stool and sat, thighs wide apart, 
rubbing herself savagely.  She and her sister panted as their bodies 
trembled as they came, she for the second time. 
The sickened Mrs. Steadman eased herself through the ropes to drag 
her beloved Carol over to the corner post where she propped her up 
to try to stop her swallowing too much of the blood which still 
gushed from her crushed nose.  She was crying as she began to unlace 
her mistress's boxing gloves.
Toni slumped hack on her stool, one boxing gloves still gripped 
between her bulky thighs. Her sister blushing deeply, pulled her 
panties back over her slimy mound and yanked her leather skirt back 
down over her bum and hips. She made to start trying to unlace 
Toni's gloves.
"Not yet," she groaned, easing herself up.
She shuffled over to the opposite corner where Mrs. Steadman was 
dabbing ineffectually at Carol's still streaming nose.
She pushed her roughly out of the way, "I've always wanted to do 
this," she snarled, grabbing the girl again by the hair.
She pulled her roughly up onto her trembling knees.
Mrs. S. came forwards purposefully and back handed the big woman 
right across her burst right breast, smearing blood all across the 
swollen left tit too.
Toni responded instantly with a remarkable straight right which 
broke the older woman's nose sending bright red blood spurting down 
over her front as she staggered back, open mouthed.
Toni grinned wickedly and pulled Carol's bleeding mouth again up 
between her thighs, a stream of piss hit her lips and, because she 
couldn't breathe through her busted nose, she was eventually forced 
to swallow several mouthfuls of the urine before Toni had finished. 
She threw her back down onto the ring floor and grabbed the other 
girl's new white dress from her corner, wiping herself between the 
legs and then cleaning as much of her blood off her breasts as she 
could before throwing the dress into the puddle of piss that had 
run off Carol's chin and tits.
She strode back to her own corner and allowed Anne to hack the 
blood sodden four ounce boxing gloves off her fists with a large 
pair of scissors. Once she'd stuffed her bra and panties into her 
bag and donned her dress and shoes, they were off with Anne taking 
but one glance back at the boxing ring.
The two women were where Toni had left them. 
One, the wife, on her side covered in her own blood and her 
opponent's piss the other the companion, propped against the ropes 
near her, the front of her once white blouse and tweed skirt 
becoming sodden with the blood still pumping from her broken nose. 
She got herself upright and her jaw dropped when she saw the state 
of her clothes. 
Her delicate fingers fiddled with the blood sticky buttons of her 
blouse, she pulled it out of her waistband and eased it over her 
shoulders. Her bra was messy too. She snapped the not unsubstantial 
back catch and exposed her white breasts. They were massive, not as 
big as Toni's, but much bigger than Carol's.  Her charge was due for 
a surprise too. The older bunched her precious blouse under her 
streaming nose, occasionally dabbing the upper slopes of her 
spattered breasts. Once she was reasonably satisfied that she'd 
stanched the worst of the blood flow she made for Carol. She knelt 
slowly, cradling the fallen woman's battered head in her blood 
soggy lap.
Carol began to fidget end splutter on the thick blood she was still 
swallowing.
Mrs. S. pulled her up so that her hips were between her knees, her 
cheek resting on her maternal, pillow breasts. She patted her blood 
streaked cheeks.
Carol blindly pawed at the soft breast flesh heaving beneath her 
aching head. She felt a long, hard teat and then the big, cold 
metal ring through it.. 
"It's a funny old world," she thought, before passing out once 
more.