Salt Forged Stories

Content Warning: NSFW – Sex, violence, and nudity. All at the same time. (It’s wet boxing in Beat, Prey Love. Come on now. Be fr.)

“Y'know,” Vivian Jiang explained, fastening the strap on her green and blue boxing glove, “I'd been meaning to return to the sweet science anyways. I'm mostly a Mixed Martial Artist, especially now, but when Kathy said one of the freshies wanted a topless boxing match, I said, 'hell yeah!' so let's have some fun with it, kid!”

“Yeah! Let's do it!” The short, tan student grinned at her from across the ring. “I heard that some of the best fighters on campus fought at Beat, Prey, Love. I hope the rumors are true.” The wiry youth slammed her boxing gloves together, eager to begin. Her bright green gloves and shorts contrasted well with her light brown skin, and with the rest of her outfit. Her black boxing boots looked well used, even if her matching black leg warmers and arm warmers gave the 19-year-old pugilist's outfit a touch of youthful whimsy.

“Rumors? C'mon Maxine. Wet or dry, if you're looking for a fight, BPL is the best org near campus. But something gives me the idea you're not new to this...” Vivian explained, gesturing at Maxine Williams's topless torso.

“Oh? Why do you say that” The freshman asked, stretching out and twisting to and fro and putting her cute, lithe frame on full display.

“Most girls at least try and look scandalized standing topless in a boxing ring.” Vivian Jiang said with a laugh. “You are cute though.” he grad student grinned.

Maxine decided that Vivian looked like a very fearsome nerd as she smacked her boxing gloves together while still wearing her circular glasses. Her generous bust and hips jiggled as she bounced in her fighting stance. Besides her gloves, she wore a skimpy, festive, multicolored skirt. and decorative bands around her abs and legs. The bright colors of her outfit and the matching highlights in her hair gave Vivian the look of a raver who'd stumbled into a boxing ring. Her softer, curvier shape only intensified the depiction. “Ready to go, 'Lil Maxine?' I'm not taking it easy on you just cause you're young and impressionable” she laughed.

“Impressionable? Can it, grandma. The only impression I'm gonna leave is my gloves alllllllll over you. I can't wait to put you flat on your back so we can have some real fun.” She teased. “But, don't your girls hurt, bouncing around like that?” The younger woman brought her gloves to her modest chest, imagining her breasts were as big, or as heavy as those of the sturdy graduate student grinning at her. “They're fucking huge.”

“Ok, they're only... 'big.'” Vivian laughed. “Maybe 'huge' on a good day. And no, they're fine, but feel free to stand still and stare them as long as you want.”

By contrast, Maxine Williams's short, dark brown, hair, lithe, muscled body, and much smaller chest gave the Puerto Rican pugilist the distinct look of an athlete. Though she was nearly the same height as the 5'5” Vivian, the difference in their shapes put 'Lil Maxine' at a clear size disadvantage. The graduate student in the other corner was soft in all the right places for the freshman to imagine them embracing, kissing, grinding, until her opponent, worn out and beaten, slid down her taut torso, leaving a trail of sweat and saliva before settling into her rightful place on her knees, face nuzzled between the horny boxer's thighs. It took a mighty effort to calm her throbbing excitement. “Since we're already topless, any special rules I should know?” She gulped.

Vivian moved to answer, but stopped when their referee interjected. “Start with a kiss, no mouthguards, obviously. The crowd fucking loves that part. After that, mouthguards in, ring the bell, and start swinging.”

A twitch of arousal shot between Maxine's legs as she considered standing chest to chest with her busty opponent and kissing her before trying to knock the woman senseless shortly afterwards. The thought excited and aroused her and made her all the more certain that this was where she wanted to be.

“Other than that?” The referee continued talking, and Maxine observed that their referee was likely a competitor as well, given her age, shape, and the way she stared at both competitors like rivals. The woman in the striped shirt confirmed this assumption right after she introduced herself as Flor Ramirez. Maxine bounced and tried to listen intently as the athletic Latina explained the rest of the night's rules: No judges, no decisions, and no throwing in the towel between rounds meant that the fight would end in the ring, either by a knockout or the ref stopping. Six 3-minute rounds followed by an untimed round 7 that would last as long as needed to determine a winner. The 10 count only started when the fighters separated, which Maxine immediately understood to mean that they were allowed—if not expected— to take advantage the other woman before actually letting her hit the canvas.

“Hey Viv, you better beat the brakes off the new girl.” Flor cackled. “I had dibs on her till Kathy said she owed you a favor. Have some fun with her” The Latin woman looked from one competitor to the other, gauging their reactions.

“I promise.” Vivian grinned. “Hard punches, not hard feelings.”

“Totally!” Maxine agreed, also considering the third hard object she'd bring to this fight. “You seem cool.”

From outside the ring, Kathy Liu held court, holding a mic in one hand to address the crowd. She introduced both women by their ring names, rather than their government names, a tradition adopted by professional wrestlers and adult performers alike and fighting promotions. Inside this ring she was 'Lil Maxine,' which though funny, did nothing to hide her identity. She didn't care; the pun was too good to pass up. Vivian, now 'Indigo Rave' or 'Indigo' for short, had chosen a name that leaned into her image.

When both women nodded, Flor yelled at the two to give the fans some action. The whoop of the crowd was the first time Maxine noticed them, and the diminutive Puerto Rican puncher wondered if she'd see anyone she knew ringside. She doubted any of her classmates or roommates were here tonight, but for a campus of nearly 35,000 students, CU@LA often felt much much smaller than that.

'Lil Maxine' nearly leapt from her corner, meeting the older woman just past the center of their pink colored ring. Vivian—no—Indigo's gloves on her hips, strong and firm and more than a little possessive, made her swoon even before their lips touched. This curvy stranger was no stranger to kisses and caresses and the younger, smaller woman forced herself to focus, lest she forget that she was here to fuck only after (or perhaps while) soundly beating this would-be party girl in a punchdrunk stupor.

But for as silly of a name as ‘Indigo Rave’ was, her allure overwhelmed the younger boxer. She smelled sweet and inviting, her makeup was precise and alluring, and her mouth was dangerously warm, to say nothing of her soft curves pressed against Maxine's slight frame. Indigo's muscles tensed beneath her touch, a reminder that the graduate student's chubby body hid dangerous muscle beneath, like rocks beneath the surface of the lake. Maxine's green gloves traced the lines of her soft waist, her wide hips, and her pillowy bust. Indigo's body squished playfully, and Maxine wanted her. Badly. The 19-year-old trans woman felt her arousal poking through her thin shorts, a fact her opponent registered with a sultry smile. She kissed her deeply, aggressively, with the practiced ease of a skilled lover. Indigo nibbled on her lower lip and pulled on the small of her back and held her in ways that made the younger woman shiver and wiggle and gasp.

Maxine needed this voluptuous temptress like she needed air.

“Someone's excited to get started. If you cum in your shorts now, do we just call it a win for me?”

Lil Maxine swooned and felt her knees buckle beneath the passion of their kiss before she pushed her opponent away. Her face burned and her heart pounded in her chest and the freshman felt the distinct sensation that she'd been outplayed even before the fight had started. But this was part of a wet fight. The crowd that'd gathered for a night of fights in the small gym cheered the tantalizing sight of two attractive women holding, kissing each other, ready to trade leather a few moments later.

Indigo adjusted her glasses and blew her a kiss as they returned to their corners, shouting taunts that made Maxine ever more certain that she needed to win. From the corner, Maxine watched the surly grad student tilt her head forward and dump her glasses into her gloves before passing them to a |haughty brown-complexioned woman with an expensive looking dye job. Once she straightened up, their referee called for the bell and let the two college students duke it out.

The pair of warriors tapped gloves and traded mouthguard-shielded smiles before the freshman assumed her Peekaboo style, palms turned inward and gloves held near her cheeks. Indigo Rave met her with a more traditional boxing stance, flicking jabs at the younger woman. Thick and sturdy, the graduate student's brawny, curvy frame and looked exactly like the kind of woman Maxine assumed would be popular with or without clothes.

Lil Maxine has trained nearly half her life, a gym rat who'd moved from watching her dad in the ring to entering it herself. Lil Maxine circled and strafed around the bigger girl, expecting to contend with a reach disadvantage like she almost always did. Such was the struggle of fighting taller women. The topless warriors felt each other out, leaning and shifting in search of an opening.

Leather lashed through the air as the two women traded words and kissing for punches. They landed only glancing blows until Maxine tagged the bigger woman with a clean jab, then slipped Indigo's response and sank two hooks into her sides. They separated and reset back into their stances. Maxine observed the smirk she'd elicited from her curvy foe and resolved to knock the smile off Indigo's face.

Indigo moved like a martial artist, or a kickboxer, with a a stance wide enough for throwing kicks as well as punches; a reminder that she wasn't a boxer. not purely. Maxine pawed at her, trying to force her bigger opponent into a mistake. The petite technician landed punches and slipped away, repeating the process several times. The tomboy thought she'd found exactly the opening she needed before the fighter's blue-green glove collided with her chin. The force of the blow staggered her and nearly sent her to the ropes before Indigo caught her, pulling Maxine's hips against her own.

“Woozy already? Don't tell me our fiery little freshman has a glass jaw...” the older woman laughed, apparently enjoying the sensation of the smaller woman struggling against her.

“Sh-shut up. I'm still gonna knock your block off.” Maxine replied between groans. She'd expected this woman to hit hard, but she hadn't expected the veteran's timing or accuracy. Far from a plodding MMA striker pretending to be a boxer, Indigo Rave was a striker, a bomb the freshman would have to defuse before dismantling her. Maxine was more determined than ever to prove to the women of Beat, Prey, Love that she wasn't here to compete; she was here to conquer.

Having tasted each other's talent and tactics midway through the first, the topless boxers went about the task of winning a fight. There'd be plenty of time to appreciate the other woman's figure once Indigo was woozy and punchdrunk. Lil Maxine focused on her movement, darting in and out and demonstrating how much faster her hands were than her opponent's. She wanted, needed, the brawny grad student to feel slow, and plodding; once she'd left Indigo uncertain about when or where to strike back, the petite puncher figured she could dismantle her foe at her leisure.

But it was clear the party girl wouldn’t go down easy. Indigo was fast too and packed real weight behind each punch. Maxine walked back to her corner after the first round wondering if she'd ever felt a woman that size punch with that much force. The 5'5” Indigo Rave hit like a woman twice her size.

Their second round began with less patience and more fireworks. After 3 minutes together, Maxine knew more about her opponent's movements and tactics, and judging from her increased output, her opponent felt the same way about her. Indigo was a talented martial artist, but not a boxer, and Maxine found little deficiencies and habits to exploit, scoring with small flurries that would build up over the course of a fight. They traded punches, with Indigo landing harder but Maxine landing more often, frequently drawing a knowing smile from her opponent after landing a clean punch.

“You're just target practice!” The petite woman taunted. She'd taken advantage of the realities of their topless boxing match to begin targeting Indigo's heaving breasts in addition to her face and stomach. “You really shouldn't have agreed to fight topless, Indigo. I'm gonna paint those punching bags purple blue before we're done here.” The slender freshman felt good about her chances; she just needed to keep up this pace and lean on her advantages.

The taller woman must have picked up on Maxine's strategy because after absorbing a stinging left hook later in the round, she initiated a clinch. She used her plainly bigger frame to bully the younger woman, digging her shoulder, or hip, into Maxine's spry frame before sneaking solid punches into undefended skin. Maxine recognized the shift in tactics, but countering it was another matter. When Maxine fought her way out of the clinch, Indigo had a fist waiting for her as a goodbye gift. When she sank into a clinch instead, Flor took her sweet time breaking them up. It was a topless match after all; their crowd cheered the collision of feminine bodies, of two attractive young women tangled in each other's arms, grunting and groaning and trying to dominate each other.

The second round ended, and Lil Maxine lifted her fist into the air as a sign of victory. Though she felt she'd won the first two rounds, there was no denying this fight was close, and she could not shake the feeling that it should not have been. Was that overconfidence seeping in? The ref wasn't going to save her from the woman in the other corner grinding her into paste and then fucking her into sweet submission. She'd have to force the kind of fight she knew how to win. Indigo wasn't generating her own offense; she was counterpunching, looking to catch Maxine as she came forward into range or stayed too close after an exchange.

Round three brought a different kind of action. Both women had been forced to change strategy once already; it was now Maxine's task to find a way to shift things back into her favor. She felt bruises beginning to form over her pretty brown frame, the same as those marring Indigo's paler curves. She lifted her bright green gloves and prepared to play matador. The pace slowed as she chose her openings more carefully, reluctant to wade into another clinch. Her flurries slowed into hit and run tactics that again put Baltimore native on the defensive. Lil Maxine figured that the growing difference in punch count had to be obvious to every observer. Indigo Rave simply couldn't keep up with her hand speed or her footwork. Not in a fight without wrestling or kicks. The graduate student apparently realized it too, after a sizzling three punch combo splashed against her face heaving chest. Her response clobbered the air where Maxine had been a moment before but left the freshman unharmed.

“Too slow, Grandma!” Maxine yelled, accentuating her tease with a swish of her slender hips.

“Nice one!” Indigo nodded, conceding the sequence. “You're pretty good. You'll fit in here, right next to all the other girl's I've beat. Ready to get serious?”

The undersized swarmer felt a wave indignation that twisted her face and raised her pulse. 'Serious?' They were 3 rounds into a fight she was decisively winning. What was this punchdrunk nerd talking about? Maxine resolved to put the issue and her opponent to bed, planting her feet and putting her bodyweight into her next right hand.

She expected the satisfying shiver of a knockout punch reverberating up her arm. The jolt she received instead shot through her jaw and nearly wrenched her mouthguard out of her mouth. The world slowed for a minute and bells went off in her head. She blinked, retreated, and fought to understand. The curvy Asian woman was advancing now, too close for comfort. Maxine staggered backwards, hands high, trying not to trip over her own shoes until she felt the cold leather ropes dig into her bare, wet back. The crowd was cheering, even more loudly than they had in the first two rounds, but they were no longer cheering for her. They were cheering for her to lose. She tightened up her guard as her foe approached, more menacing than she'd ever been. Maxine just needed to survive. She needed to clinch, or escape, endure. But she nearly spat up her mouthguard when Indigo's uppercut rammed into her chiseled abs. Maxine gasped and fought to keep her lunch down. She absorbed another volley of half defended shots before lurching forward to tie up the bigger woman and stem the abusive tide. Her arms wrapped around her opponent's pale torso, unintentionally pressing the side of her head into Indigo Rave's sweat slicked bare tits. They were as soft as they looked: a squishy, steamy, prison in which Maxine needed to take temporary refuge.

“It's like bullying a freshman...” The broader woman said sarcastically, her breath hot in Maxine's ear, “Oh wait... I guess it is bullying a freshman. Damn, my bad.” Indigo laughed. Tangled up in each other, neither of them could punch effectively. Instead the position left them to coo and sigh and taunt each other for a few moments. “It's not too late to quit. You're the smallest girl in the gym and I'm not even a boxer. Quit now and I'll make sure we both have some fun.”

Lil Maxine felt Indigo's stiff nipples digging into her, felt Indigo's thigh grinding against the freshman woman's quickly hardening shaft. “Qu-quit? Fuck no... You-you're strong, but I-I'm gonna piece you up until-” Maxine stammered.

“Maybe” The bigger woman dismissed her. “Don't cum in your shorts though, kay? I want to wring you out on camera, maybe get a close up of you slumped in the corner after you bust all over your stomach.”

The taunt made Maxine's member throb, a fact that did not go unnoticed by the woman pressed against her. The Baltimore native pulled Maxine's face into her massive bust, wrapping an arm behind the trapped woman's head and grinding her sweaty tits into the shorter woman's face. Maxine fought to keep her balance as she finally escaped, but unknowingly leaned directly into the brutal left hook that followed her out of the clinch. The thudding flurry that followed knocked her loopy, and she stumbled on shaky legs as she collapsed into the ropes, mumbling a half remembered discovery. The pair of fists she absorbed into her stomach and ribs on the way to the canvas were entirely gratuitous.

Lil Maxine lay on her back gasping for air like a caught fish. Her slender frame ached, a gnawing burning sensation that started in the pit of her stomach but concentrated in her throbbing head. She recognized the trouble from the first. This was an ugly, bad knockdown. The crowd sounded far and distant. But Indigo was right there. Maxine gasped when her opponent sat on her abs and forced precious air out of her burning lungs.

The talented striker caressed her face with a blue-palmed glove, chest rising and falling with each breath. “Someone's losing pretty... hard” The woman cackled, eliciting a breathy gasp when she began grinding on Maxine's hard shaft through her shorts. The pressure felt great; Lil Maxine clenched her fists inside her gloves and fought off her encroaching orgasm. “Remember, count doesn't stop till we separate, right? So I'm here asking you to stay down. Take the 10-count, have the best sex of your life in front of a cheering audience. No one said you had to win to join BPL. You put up a good fight. Be proud. This was fun as fuck.”

The flattened freshman groaned an unintelligible response and shook her head.

“Think it over.” Indigo asked her younger opponent before climbing off of her. Maxine looked down her chest and watched the curvy slugger retreat to a neutral corner to await the count and the freshman's imminent decision.

Her once blurry vision had long since cleared: above her, a sneering junior counted, slow and steady. Around her, a throng of watchers, many of them potential opponents, looked on and cheered the sensual violence. Flor looked at her with smug disdain. But Maxine was hurt—she wasn't done. She wanted to fight. She wanted to fuck. She didn't want to lose to this woman, as attractive as she was. Indigo Rave was bigger, older, and probably a better martial artist. But Maxine still intended to prove she was a better boxer.

And so she rose, rolling onto her aching chest and ribs before pushing up to her knees and using the ropes to help steady herself. She surprised herself when she made it by the count of '6,' bright eyed and ready to put this round behind her. The bell had already rung to end the round, and Maxine returned to her corner to prepare for the 4th round. If she'd won the first two rounds 10-9, that 10-8 knockdown had evened the score. Thank God wet fights almost never had judges. Her corner person helped her with her water bottle while the Puerto Rican freshman considered her options.

She was still doing so when the bell rang to start the 4th. Lil Maxine hoped she didn't look hurt as she felt, or as hurt as Indigo did. But the knockdown a minute earlier had energized the wider woman, who now pushed the pace and Maxine around, threatening with the same blend of speed, power and grit she'd shown all night. But Lil Maxine weathered most of it and waited for her chance to strike , sneaking shots in each time Indigo Rave relented. She knew better than to sit and trade, and though slower, she hadn't boxed for nearly a decade just to let some well placed body shots turn her into a sexy, mewling punching bag. She was still in this fight, still playing the role of matador, just less confident she could survive being gored again.

Her patience paid off when an ill-spaced right hook left Indigo Rave off balance. The shorter girl let her hands go, a flash of green leather that landed with satisfying thuds. Two hooks stung either side of her ribs and sent Indigo's heavy bust wobbling like a metronome. The last, a stiff uppercut, knocked a sheen of sweat into the air and jerked the woman's head up toward the ceiling. The graduate student lurched backwards, and Lil Maxine had reestablished the natural order as she saw it. She had all the skills she needed to win, so long as she could keep her focus and enough to her horny brain from walking her into a knockout punch.

The 5th round marked a continued shift toward Maxine, as the now tiring Indigo increasingly struggled putting her gloves on the petite freshman or keeping out of the way of Maxine's punches. The smaller woman went hunting, targeting Indigo's face and breasts as her favorite targets. The graduate student's cheek and chest had begun swelling, and the flurry that collided with her chin didn't help matters. The bigger woman crumbled and lurched forward, wrapping up the younger woman.

“N-Nice one.”

“Remember when the ref told you that you better kick my ass? How's that going for you?” Maxine taunted the woman currently drooling on her nearly flat chest.

“Better than you'd do in MMA, Maxine.” Indigo Rave groaned.

“We'll have to give that a try next time. For now, you look a little eepy, Indigo. Ready to nap yet, or nah?”

“Fuck no. You're a hot lil commodity but I'm not quitting, rookie. Don't insult me.”

The punch count, already weighted towards the skinny tomboy with active hands, turned egregiously one-sided as her swarming punches increasingly dominated their exchanges. She finally toppled the curvaceous slugger early in the 6th round and excitedly guided Indigo Rave's face down her chiseled, bruise-splotched abs. She eagerly introduced Indigo Rave to the hard tent pitched in her green shorts, pulling the woman's head against her impressive shaft with the palm of her glove as she humped her. Maxine smeared the scent of her sweat and arousal across Indigo's bruised cheeks, stopping just short of attempting to fill her mouth. The sound of Indigo's immodest moans wracked the younger woman with sultry, sensual desire. The freshman wanted to climax on, or in the woman kneeling before her. She felt capable, powerful, and desirable. Like a demigod elevated over the mortals at ringside and the unfortunate woman thrown into the ring with her. The freshman groaned, struggling to contain her encroaching orgasm before finally allowing the bigger woman to pitch forward onto her hands and knees.

Lil Maxine felt a distinct sense of satisfaction at the sight of the older, more experienced woman gasping and dripping sweat, one glove cradling her head. She turned around and basked in the crowd's cheers and jeers. Though some of the audience no doubt maintained their loyalty to their friend and regular competitor, many of them just wanted to see sex and violence intermingled. She thrust her hips toward the audience and made a new promise. “Who wants to watch me knock Indigo Rave the fuck out? Who wants to watch me fuck her?”

The rapturous response the audience delivered sent a sensual shiver up her spine. she slammed her gloves together, more excited than ever to win her Beat, Prey, Love proving match in sexy, decisive fashion. The sight of a |very cute, slim, pink-clad Black woman leading a “fuck her, fuck her up!” chant was too satisfying for Lil Maxine not to smile and wiggle in response.

True to her word, Indigo rose off the canvas, refusing to simply concede. Sweaty, bruised, and swollen, the graduate student was nonetheless determined to fight to a finish. The lively Puerto Rican spitfire was determined to oblige her. She harassed and pursued the Asian woman, walking her down and swarming her. The green and black clad slugger noticed that exhausted and visibly aroused, Indigo picked her shots more carefully, lashing out only when certain she could do so without eating an emerald leather response. The bigger woman's guard tightened, and the 19-year-old took what the flagging slugger gave her, taunting and teasing the woman physically and verbally.

“What happened to you putting me down for a nap”

“What happened to putting me down in 3 rounds?” Indigo laughed.

“You're better than I expected.” She admitted, “but nothing I can't handle.” Lil Maxine punctuated the taunt with half a dozen unanswered punches, but couldn't find the fight ending sequence she craved.

Instead, their match ended in dramatic fashion nearly a minute into the final, and untimed, seventh round. There'd be no more breaks, no rest periods, no reprieves from the ensuing punishment or pleasure. Unfortunately for her opponent, Maxine was all too eager to make this woman dance like a puppet on a string. She caught her opponent and the referee sharing a knowing, weary looking shrug as the bell rang for the second to last time.

She acknowledged Indigo Rave's resolve with a vicious smile. the woman was a fucking warrior and Lil Maxine wanted her more than anyone she could remember. They traded punches, more a token to the woman's efforts than a legitimate battle. The feisty, slender freshman's piston-like jab snapped the woman's head back repeatedly, and the unanswered flurry that followed marked the end of Indigo's response.

“See? Now I'm done.” Indigo admitted as they clinched. “Goddammit, I really thought I had you there. Ah well. I'm tired and horny. Let's get to the fun part.” The busty graduate student's lust was palpable, as if her arousal had filled the space where her aggression had been. Indigo wasn't out on her feet but didn't resist when Maxine spun her around and forced her to look out onto the crowd. Maxine wondered what she looked like. She stopped thinking about it when she began humping the woman's fantastic ass instead. Indigo's body was so soft, with a skirt and panties that only accentuated her curves. If not for the boxing gloves the little spitfire would have stripped them both and taken her right there on the canvas. Instead they humped and moaned, the swooning loser pressed hard into the ring's taut ropes.

The crowd cheered as hard as than they had all night, as Indigo's lewd moans mixed with hers and the thin layers of fabric between them did little to blunt the sensation of the friction. Lil Maxine's green gloves found purchase on Indigo's wide hips and fun skirt, and she pulled the woman harder against her throbbing shaft. Indigo rocked against her, clearly in search of her own sticky orgasm. Their sweaty curves pressed against each other in lurid gyrations there in the ring together. Their desire had overcome their aggression; the boxing match transformed into a 20 minute foreplay session to determine who would top whom that night. Lil Maxine's thoughts blurred as her girlcock pulsed, and her own desperate moans surprised her.

“Fuck you're so hot. I-I need you” She admitted, not caring how that sounded. They were dry humping in a boxing ring for a cheering crowd. Nuance wasn't in attendance.

“Give it to me” Her opponent turned partner replied, reaching back to grab Lil Maxine's hips or shorts. The younger woman muttered a few new expletives and increased her pace. Her body tightened, caught in waves of pleasure, until she finally climaxed, white spunk spurted through her shorts and splashing on the woman's thighs and ass.

Fresh off an orgasm, her brain buzzed with wild, lewd ambition. She'd punched, groped, and teased this woman hard enough and long enough that she'd willingly, excitedly fucked her back. Lil Maxine was guided by her lusts now more than any coherent plan. She hadn't thought of how she wanted to win, only that she did. She could likely let the other woman collapse now: let Indigo slump against the ropes while she basked in the cheers of her soon-to-be new rivals and the glow of a devastating knockout (fuck out?) victory.

But she wanted a little more. She wanted to enjoy this until she couldn't anymore. It was simple to spin Indigo back around, and deliver the fight's last two punches. She had to catch her own breath to swing the sizzling left hook-right hook combo that detonated on the MMA fighter's unprotected chin and turned her mouthguard into a comet: the green and blue plastic hurtled through the air with a trail of spit following it and landed in the crowd like a fresh souvenir. Indigo crumpled forward, spent and exhausted, and Maxine caught her with her torso, again exalting in the feeling of a sluggish opponent sliding down her body, legs too weak to carry her. Indigo felt to her knees, head resting against Lil Maxine's shorts. Her own body ached from the abuse she'd endured, but the sight of Indigo Rave's pretty face smeared with Lil Maxine's seed made the shorter, younger woman feel like she could fight a hundred more rounds. Her involuntary thrusts of her svelte hips battered the woman's face, a last indignity sent Indigo crumbling backwards. She landed on the bottom rope, left arm caught on it and draped outside the ring.

Flor completed the count, though everyone in the gym recognized it for the formality it was, kneeling by the woman who never even attempted to rise. Maxine leapt into the air and yelled as the bell sounded, her voice drowned out by the crowd's myriad reactions. She'd done it. She'd fought the woman meant to beat her into a mewling, compliant pulp and had instead established herself as a force to be feared inside the square circle. If Indigo Rave couldn't beat her, who else would even be willing to try? Their referee had seemed eager to do so, and Maxine welcomed the challenge. Later. For now, she wanted to celebrate. And maybe sleep. The freshman thrust her green gloves into the air, black arm warmers shiny with sweat and spit. She wanted everyone to see her. She wanted everyone to want her.

The referee grabbed her wrist and held it high to declare Maxine the winner. It was a second euphoria, one marked by as many cheers as the first.

She stared down at Indigo Rave laid out on the canvas, soft curves no longer dangerous, heavy breasts rising slowly with each breath. |A voluptuous black woman with thick glasses, had already moved into the ring, providing first aid to the downed woman. Vivian looked hurt but alert, and she was already standing when Maxine turned back around after playing to her crowd once more. She gave the woman a tight hug and thanked her repeatedly for the fight. Vivian was gracious in defeat and returned the hug with a few compliments and a promise to run it back with different results some time. Maxine promised that she'd only knock her out faster next time.

With this fight won, the freshman wondered what came next. There were more fights after theirs yes, but what else? Could she approach Vivian with an offer of less aggressive sex in the locker room now that she'd beaten Indigo Rave? Was someone else in the audience or backstage thinking of her the same way? Were the girls going out to dinner afterwards? Possibilities abounded.

For tonight, 'Lil Maxine' had the world exactly where she wanted it.

#Writing #NSFW #Series #Commission #BeatPreyLove #BPL #Fiction #Action #Sex #Fight #MartialArts #Boxing

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