Monica vs. Cory
By Steely Dan, steelydan1923@yahoo.com
A story of two women battling with the gloves for their gym's top honors.
 
As long as anyone could remember, Cory had been the downtown Chicago gym's best-known resident. 
It didn't matter that she was one of only a handful of females that used the old-time basement facility. 
The hundred or so men that worked out there ' some of them bodybuilders, most of them boxers ' 
knew who she was and respected her for what she had accomplished. 
She was obviously a world-ranked bodybuilder in her prime, but not many outside the gym knew that 
she was also a very capable boxer. She sparred in the gym on a regular basis, almost exclusively with the 
men (few of the women were strong enough to stay in the ring with her), and probably could have been 
a professional had she not concentrated on her bodybuilding. 
Monica knew who Cory was, and it didn't matter to her. She was a regular at the gym, and the gym had 
helped save her life, so it was like home for her. 
She didn't go there to become a fighter. She already had the body that the women at the "plush" gyms 
would die for, but she wanted to take it further and needed a gym like this to "toughen" her up. She was 
also looking for direction in her life, and here she found it. 
Throughout her younger years, her looks had defined her. She was attractive and had been turning 
heads since her teenage years. Her eyes were the kind of dark orbs that men could get lost in. And it 
didn't hurt that her body was toned, the result of regular appearances at the gym's weight area where 
she would work out her frustrations. She'd had tough luck with relationships, and the gym became a 
place where she could relax ' for a while. 
One day at the gym, Monica was resting after a particularly hard workout, and was confronted by one of 
the gym's other female members ' as it turned out, one whose younger brother had just had an ugly 
breakup with Monica. 
"I need to teach you a lesson on how to treat people," the woman said, "and I think I'll do it in the 
boxing ring where I can beat on you to my heart's desire and have some fun doing it." 
Monica had never really boxed. She'd punched the heavy bag some as a stress relief, but that was the 
extent of her fighting background. She barely knew how to put on the gloves and attach the Velcro 
fasteners, but when she did a strange feeling came over her ' a feeling of confidence, a feeling of 
power. The gloves, warm white leather ones with the big cuffs that went halfway down the forearms, 
felt sexy on her hands. A tingling sensation started deep in the pit of her stomach when she climbed 
through the ring ropes for the very first time and faced her taunting female tormenter who was painfully 
unaware of the beast she was about to unleash. 
All those months and years of frustration welled up inside her and were released through Monica's 
flying fists, as she shocked even herself with her unexpected ferocity. It took her only minutes to pound 
her opponent into oblivion ' blackening both her eyes, turning her nose into a flattened mess and 
bloodying both lips, and using her tits as targets for wildly-swinging punches. 
But what really excited Monica was when she'd hit the bigger woman in her soft belly, watching her big 
white gloves disappear deep into her opponent's abdomen and standing back to watch her foe clutch 
her stomach and retch in the middle of the ring. 
Her last volley of punches left her beaten opponent spread-eagled in the middle of the canvas, and she 
threw her gloves toward the ceiling as some other gym patrons came through the ropes to check on her 
opponent. 
The feeling was incredible ' Monica felt her whole body tingle with the excitement. She knew she 
wanted more, and it wasn't going to be hard for her to find other boxers in the gym to help her. After all, 
with Cory slipping just past her prime, she was easily the most attractive part of the decrepit old gym. 
Monica hurried home and thought about the last few hours. What was it that sent her passion through 
the roof when she was in the ring? It wasn't the physical activity ' she worked hard at her workouts 
each and every day without a break. But this was different. The boxing was different. 
The feeling of dominating someone with fists alone, beating someone so badly that they would either 
cower at her feet begging her to stop, or lie unconscious from nothing more than her gloved hands. The 
feeling was indescribable, and all of her dreams that night revolved around the ring, the ropes and 
everything that happened between them. 
She began taking boxing lessons from one of the gym's trainers, and it didn't take long before she 
became good enough to start participating in the preliminary bouts for the gym's Saturday night 
"smokers" where boxers and boxing fans turned out to watch a series of bouts between the gym's top 
fighters. Cory, of course, was a regular participant in the "main event" about once a month, whenever a 
suitable opponent could be found. 
Monica won all of those short preliminary bouts. She didn't make much money in those prelims, but she 
was smart enough to have people place heavy bets on her at every fight, which she collected when she 
won. 
She didn't mind putting in the work ' in fact, she lived for the hours she could spend in the gym, 
constantly finding ways to improve. Her workout routine was the envy of the rest of the gym fighters, 
both male and female, and she had no shortage of male sparring partners who thought they were man 
enough to control this rapidly-improving wildcat while getting in some cheap feel-ups in the clinches. 
Those who got in the ring with her just because of her looks usually wound up on the worst end of her 
fast fists. 
As for the other women in the gym, Monica sent a steady stream of them to the hospital with an 
assortment of injuries ' cracked ribs, ruptured spleens and bruised kidneys. Her body assaults were 
vicious, cruel and violent ' and she liked them more and more. Often, when an opponent was caught in 
a corner with her head fully exposed, Monica disdained that attack and chose instead to brutally beat 
her foe's body ' she loved the feeling when an uppercut sliced through an opponent's defenses and 
crushed her body cavity. And when that opponent was headed to the canvas, Monica would often catch 
her, hang her on the ropes by her now-useless arms and continue assaulting her softening belly. It made 
her incredibly excited ' and frightened other fighters. 
Eventually, there were no other takers when the gym trainers tried to schedule her in the Saturday 
"smokers" ' except, of course, for Cory. The two had avoided each other in the sparring, but both were 
regular viewers when the other was in the sparring rings. 
Cory kept insisting that the trainers bring in outside fighters to go against her, trying to block Monica 
from a chance at the big bouts. But the gym trainers were no fools, and they knew that Monica would 
be a crowd favorite for many reasons. In order to goad Cory into such a fight, they scheduled Monica for 
the "main event" on one Saturday night against the only other female in the gym that dared to get into 
the ring with her. It was a total mismatch, with Monica knocking her opponent down three times in the 
first two rounds before the referee finally stopped it, and the crowd loved watching her fight. 
As she continued to improve, she was able to pay trainers to provide more personal attention. That 
trainer also insisted that Monica wasn't going to fight in that gym any more ' that he would be able to 
get her into "real" events on the undercards of major boxing events ' unless Cory was willing to meet 
her in a "main event." 
The ploy worked, thanks in part to Cory's ego. Cory was used to winning, whether it be Ms. Olympia 
titles or victories in the ring, and it didn't matter that it had been a while since she'd been at the top of 
her game. She had reigned supreme in the gym for over a decade, she was slightly larger than her 
opponent, and her ego told her that a fight with Monica would turn out just like all the rest. 
In her closed-in circle of friends, Cory was still supremely confident that she would add Monica to her 
list of vanquished foes. Her perception of Monica was barely above that of a session boxer or "foxy 
boxer," all tits and ass and powder-puff punches. 
"How can this little pretty girl beat me?" Cory would scream during her sparring sessions to motivate 
herself. "She is just a little cunt. She can't fight like me. I will break her, do what I like with her and stand 
over her victorious." 
Monica heard her one day screaming that as she walked into the gym, and her "Bring it on, bitch" yell 
stopped the sparring and gym staff had to jump between them to stop them from going at it right then. 
From then on, Monica decided she preferred to let her actions speak for her ' not that there wasn't 
going to be plenty of trash in those actions. 
Monica was slowly developing a hatred for Cory, who was flaunting herself to the male gym members 
even more since their bout was scheduled. And because of that hatred, Monica wasn't going to rule out 
illegal tactics both before the fight and during the fight ' after all, that pent-up anger still seethed below 
the surface. Knees to the crotch, the odd elbow across the eye brow to rip her opponents' skin open, 
raking glove laces across the nipples, punches below the waist, head butts, hooking her opponent on the 
ropes and pounding away ' all were fair game once between the ropes. She would not use such tactics 
against a "clean" opponent, of course ' she had too much respect for the sport. But if Cory continued to 
berate her, Monica planned to deliver a lesson in pain in the most nasty and unfair ways once they got 
between the ropes. 
If she'd needed it, it wouldn't have stopped there. Monica knew how to sneak in weighted gloves, which 
would allow her to do terrible damage to any foe. And if she was angry enough, she was also not above 
using sex to reach her goals ' offering her favors to judges and referees to sway them should she need 
an extra advantage if the fight figured to be close. Monica's incredible body was just as much a weapon 
as her talented fists. 
But such outside measures wouldn't be necessary this time, since she knew that Cory's body was not 
what it used to be and would be no match for her terrible assaults. Anyone who watched the two with 
an unbiased eye could easily see that it was Monica, and not Cory, who was the "alpha female" in the 
gym now. Not that she wasn't going to brutalize Cory ' far from it, she planned to make an example of 
her, the only question was to what extent ' but she didn't need the added advantage this time. 
When fight night came, Monica was a bundle of nerves despite feeling confident that she would win 
easily. That was just part of her make-up, and as she sat in the dressing room wearing only her crimson 
gloves and white boots, she pictured the fight in her mind's eye. The thought of the horrific, dominant 
beating she was about to deliver to Cory got her excited in so many ways until the knock at the door of 
her dressing room indicated fight time. That was good, she thought, because she wanted Cory to feel 
and smell her excitement as much as possible when the two met at mid-ring. 
+++++++ 
No one had any idea how lopsided the "main event" would be. The word-of-mouth accounts of the one-
sided fight failed to adequately describe the cruelty, the pain and the dominance that Monica dispensed 
on the now-former gym champion. Suffice to say that ringside doctors had to resort to CPR to restore 
Cory to consciousness and to get air into lungs surrounded by at least a dozen broken ribs. Her internal 
organs were all damaged and bruised, and the coma in which she lay at a local hospital was expected to 
last indefinitely. 
Ringside onlookers had never seen such savagery. 
Cory had attempted to intimidate Monica by spiking her blonde hair high on her head, making her look 
even larger than the size advantage she already held. In a way, though, that only added to the visually-
striking contrast between the fighters. Cory was in a white bikini, one that at one time certainly showed 
off her world-class figure to its utmost, but that body was now showing signs of aging. 
Monica, on the other hand, was in a black bikini that, if possible, made her look even hotter than 
normal, and that was almost impossible. The nearly all-male gym crowd was screaming its appreciation, 
but most did it while sitting down. If they had stood, the bulges in their pants would have been too 
obvious just from looking at the youthful, healthy, toned, nubile and hot vixen, an embodiment of 
forged steel and sex appeal. 
It was a contrast obvious to all ' except to Cory's corner crew, which had apparently been brain-washed 
to the point that they never expected their fighter to have any trouble in putting the young newcomer 
down. 
"She is just a little girly girl," her corner screamed in Cory's ear. "She can't hurt you ' she is weak. Look 
at her ' she cannot stand up to you." Cory nodded and pounded her gloves together with a loud 
thwwappp, a noise that intimidated opponents many years ago ' but now only looked like an act to 
build her own confidence. 
It turned out that hitting her gloves together was one of the few times her fists made clean contact 
against anything all night. Monica pounded Cory unmercifully right from the opening bell, alternating 
her attack from lefts and rights to the former Ms. Olympia's spiked head and then going down low to 
her once-sensational abs ' and occasionally lower, just above Cory's crotch, and Monica laughed at 
Cory's reaction to the low blow. 
"Like that, bitch?" Monica said as Cory began to back off and couldn't help rubbing the soreness above 
her crotch. "I may just pound that pussy all night." 
Monica could have knocked Cory out in the first round, but that wasn't what she wanted. She wanted to 
punish Cory, dominate her, hurt her badly, show the world what a REAL boxer can do. So she made the 
bout last the full 10 brutal rounds, to the point that Cory was unresponsive and even Monica couldn't 
pick her up as she had several times, draping her on the ropes and firing uppercuts almost from canvas 
level deep into her belly, hurting her terribly. Three times at the end of rounds, instead of sitting on her 
stool, Cory laid her sore stomach on the stool while she vomited up bile and blood from the intense 
pain. 
Cory tried to unload punches in the first round, but Monica was far too fast and was able to block or 
dodge every one while keeping herself in range to do damage. It didn't take long for Cory's blows, the 
ones she had used to dispatch previous opponents, to lose all of their force, and Monica was soon free 
to continue her onslaught unabated. 
At one point in the third round, Monica stood in the middle of the ring with gloves on her hips, 
displaying her wide-open body and her stunning ab muscles and daring Cory to hit her. Most of the 
fading champ's strength was gone, but she summoned up all her will and hit Monica in the abdomen 
with a left-right combination. Monica never flinched, barely felt the punch. Cory then tried to return fire 
at Monica's crotch with her own uppercuts, but Monica was much too fast and blocked all of them while 
smiling at Cory's inability to hurt her. 
"She's like iron," Cory told her confused corner when she flopped back on her stool after the third 
round. "I don't understand ' by this time, most of my opponents are devastated, cowering in a corner 
and begging for mercy. This one, this little brunette ' " 
The onslaught continued over rounds four and five, with all of Cory's punches either sailing over a 
ducking Monica and leaving her open for untold body abuse, or bouncing harmlessly off Monica's hard 
body. Either way, Monica was counter-punching Cory at will, but each time it appeared that Cory was 
about to go down ' or give up ' Monica would clinch her into the ropes, keeping her upright and not 
allowing her to end the fight before the soon-to-be new gym champion was ready. 
When Monica left her corner for the sixth round, her body still flooded with excitement, she walked 
across the ring and stood in front of Cory, who was leaning on her corner ropes unable to focus, let 
alone defend herself. She looked like death standing. 
"Still think I'm a cunt," Monica said as she pounded Cory's guts yet again. "Still think I'm just a pretty 
thing that can't fight," she said as her left hook bounced off the side of Cory's blood-covered blonde hair 
and head. "You're too old, slow and fat, bitch," she said as her straight right hand crushed Cory's jaw, 
splitting her brutally-swollen lips once again and knocking several teeth flying out of the ring. 
The entire sixth round was conducted in Cory's corner as Monica continued to drill the bodybuilding 
legend with hard lefts and rights, alternating between her disfigured face and a body that was past red 
and bruised and was showing obvious signs of severe internal bleeding. Such was the damage that 
Monica's fists were doing. 
When the bell rang to end the seventh, all Cory's corner needed to do was place the stool on the canvas 
' since Cory had never moved after standing to start the round. For a few seconds, Monica stood over 
Cory, and now things were totally reversed from the fight's beginning. Now it was Monica who appeared 
bigger and stronger, as her gloves hung at her sides, inches away from inflicting more damage, her face 
and body covered with sweat but unmarked. In fact, Monica was almost glowing with the thrill of cruelly 
dominating an opponent. 
As she walked away, showing her perfect backside to Cory's corner, the soon-to-be-former champ began 
to weep. "I'm quitting," she told her corner. "I can't take any more ' I have never felt such pain. She is 
too good, too strong, too fast ' I don't know what she will do to me if I don't stop now." 
"You CAN'T quit," her corner yelled. "It would be an embarrassment to your legacy, to everything you've 
done, to quit against her. All you have to do is land one punch and she will fold up. Just look at her." 
Her corner was obviously looking through hope-colored glasses. Monica was still as fresh as when she 
started ' maybe even more so. Hurting Cory badly and dominating her opponent was giving her a huge 
adrenaline rush. That's why her punches were just as brutal later in the fight as the first ones she threw, 
and had more effect as Cory wore down. 
But somehow, Cory's corner got her up for the eighth round, and what followed were two more rounds 
of torture courtesy of Monica's fists. At one point she was a monotone, banging Cory's badly-injured 
abdomen with alternating lefts and rights that almost appeared set to music ' one, two, BANG, one, 
two, BANG, one, two, BANG, as her hands buried deep into Cory's gut. 
When Cory tried to go down, Monica grabbed her and hung her arms over the corner ropes, making a 
human turnbuckle. Monica would hit her a few times, and then dance back, waving her arms over her 
head to show the packed gym crowd how much she was in control. Cory would just hang there, not able 
to even untangle her useless arms from the ropes, and wait for the beating to resume. 
"Who's the champ," Monica screamed as she jabbed a visionless face, Cory's eyes long since swollen 
shut. "You have never even imagined anyone as good as me! I'm going to make sure you never waste my 
time again, you cunt!" 
While Cory hung on the ropes, Monica rammed a left hook right into Cory's crotch, while continuing to 
punch Cory's red gut with her right hand. It almost felt like her two fists were meeting and Cory's insides 
just happened to be in the way, and Monica felt Cory's body almost collapse. 
Seeing that the referee wasn't going to stop her, Monica kept pounding Cory well below the belt with 
her left while continuing to ram her right hand just above the bikini line. 
After the ninth round, Cory's corner crew had to drag her spread-eagled by the arms, and Monica had 
another twinge of excitement as she watched her opponent unable to stand. With this being the final 
round, Monica knew it was time for one more moment of dominance. 
When the two met at mid-ring ' Cory's corner had to shove her in the right direction since her vision 
and her will was gone ' Monica grabbed her in a clinch and whispered in her ear. 
"You only think you're in pain now," she said. "You may not survive these last three minutes ' I may 
decide to kill you right here. If you do live, I want you to remember that if I ever see you around this gym 
again, or I ever hear that you had one unkind word about me, I will find you and kill you with my fists 
just for my pleasure." 
Monica didn't know if Cory understood what she said, but she got her message across with her fists, 
breaking the clinch and beginning a horrific last-round pounding of the meat bag that used to be a 
human being. Her laces ripped open big gashes on Cory's face and body, and her follow-up punches 
splashed blood all over those watching in horror at ringside. A combination of sweat, blood and piss ran 
down Cory's thighs and calves. 
Cory stumbled and fell over the ropes face-first, her head lolling outside the ring and pointing out to the 
crowd as blood flowed in rivers over the table next to the ring. Monica used the opportunity, with Cory's 
back to her, to pound Cory's sides with huge hooks, destroying her kidneys and making her cough up 
blood, while also rubbing herself against Cory's ass in another show of dominance. 
Just before the final bell would have sounded ' Monica had a highly-functional clock in her mind, and 
knew exactly when to make her final move ' she swung Cory's lifeless body around, yelled "good night, 
Ms. Olympia," and unleashed a huge left hand, the impact of which caved in the right side of Cory's face 
completely, causing her eyes to roll around as she slammed head-first into the canvas, not moving a 
muscle. That's when the ringside medical personnel came through the ropes, effectively ending the 
fight. 
The pictures from cell phones at ringside showed Monica standing over Cory's beaten body even as 
doctors tended to the beaten ex-champ, raising her gloves in complete victory and radiating a glow that 
was palpable even in photos. 
It may have been just a downtown gym "smoker", but word spread quickly through the boxing 
community that Monica's talents were legitimate. As Cory found out, she could hit hard, but what was 
worse is that opponents rarely saw her punches before they landed, such was the speed of her hard and 
fast hands ' lethal weapons in every sense of the word. 
Who knew what was next? Monica didn't care at that point. She had done what she started out to do ' 
put away her only rival in her own gym ' and that was enough for now.