A few weeks after Bonnie Wilson’s emphatic win over Hans Van Gelder (Gallery 693), she was involved in a minor car accident. Whose fault was it? Well, legally it was the man who drove into the back of her car; morally it was another matter. We’ve all done it – you think you can go at the junction if you’re quick, but the car coming in your direction is going faster than you realise, so you change your mind. On this occasion, the man behind saw Bonnie’s car move, moved himself, and then came the sound of a bump, with the breaking of an indicator and a light (his).

Bonnie looked in her mirror, and saw the man gesticulating furiously. "Oh, God!" she thought, as she motioned to him that she would take a turning off the road where they could meet. 

It was a tad embarrassing for her, because she was on her way to the gym for some training, and was already wearing her boxing clothes: bright ruby-red leotard, with a plunging neckline that revealed her plentiful breasts, dark tights, and red-and-white boots. Worse, she’d arranged to spar with a man, and she would have to put him off. Still, she told herself, if you will drive like a silly, scatty woman, what do you expect?

She sighed as she pulled up off the road, on the edge of a field. She sent a text to her sparring partner, got out, and inspected the damage. It wasn’t too bad. The back bumper had a dent on it, and the paintwork was damaged, that was all. She sat back in the car, and waited for the man to arrive. This he did, with a screeching wheel spin of a stop that threw up tufts of grass. 

"Oh God," thought Bonnie for the second time, as she watched him virtually pull his hair out when he saw the damage to the front of his car. He came striding over, full of fury.

"Good morning," said Bonnie, with a slight smile as he arrived.

"’Good morning’, my arse!" he replied. "You dozy cow! Stop-go, stop-go, what’s the matter with you?"

"I admit I hesitated and misjudged the situation. But technically you were in the wrong because you went into the back of me," Bonnie told him quietly, at which he exploded.

"I don’t care what the law says! Because of you I’ve had the first accident I’ve ever had driving, and my licence was unblemished up to this point."

Bonnie tried to reason with him that neither of them had been hurt which, she pointed out, was all that really mattered. She handed him a business card, which he took and pocketed without reading, and he gave her his name (Danny) and contact details.

"If that’s everything," she told him, "I’d like to go and get my car booked in for the repair to the back bumper. I always take care of my bumpers," she added mischievously, winking at him.

"I’m not in the mood for jokes," he answered. You’ve got away with a tiny bit of damage to the bumper, whereas I’ve got to get a light and indicator replaced."

"Well, you should have shown my rear more respect," Bonnie countered, beginning to enjoy herself, having decided she didn’t like him.

"I’ll tell you what I’ll do to your ‘rear’," Danny glowered at her, leaning right into the car over the door, so that she had to move back slightly. "If you’ll step out here, I’ll bend you over the bonnet, rip that leotard off you, and spank your large ‘rear’. What do you think about that?"

For answer, she punched him full in the face, at point blank range. Danny staggered back, and put his hands to his face, while Bonnie got out of her car and put her fists up.

"Now," she told him once he had left off swearing. "We can leave this as it is if you want. You didn’t read my card, but I’m a professional boxer. I strongly recommend we go our separate ways now, because I can hurt you a lot more than I already have, believe me."

"Fucking bitch!" he yelled at her, crying slightly with fury and humiliation. "You wreck my car and then you fucking hit me!"

"Ah, bless!" Bonnie mocked, deciding she’d love to teach him how to behave after all. "Ah, did the big bad girl punch him in the face and make him cwy, den?"

Danny lashed out with his right; she ducked under it and gave him a savage punch in the stomach with her right. He gasped and coughed, to her amusement. He tried again with his right, but she blocked it and replied with a left cross. He retreated a couple of steps in confusion, so she exploited her advantage and plunged her left fist into his stomach. 

Retreating another couple of steps, Danny felt the cold metal of the front of the car bonnet on his legs. It distracted him momentarily so he didn’t see her next punch coming. It was a right uppercut. As Bonnie’s fist blasted his chin, it forced him to bend backwards over the bonnet for a moment.

"I thought I was the one who was supposed to be bent over the bonnet!" she laughed, hurling a left hook at his face once he had righted himself. 

Danny’s head swam; everything seemed slow, muffled, far off. He sank down, and it felt nice, peaceful…

There was something badly wrong. His stomach hurt and his face was bruised. Then he remembered how it had happened, and groaned. But why was he naked, and where were his shorts and shirt?

"I took them off you," said that devil-woman, smiling down at him, while she leant with both hands on the bonnet, and stuck her delectable bottom out. "You were going to do it to me, remember? Oh, yes! You were all masterful then, weren’t you? You were going to rip the poor girl’s leotard off and spank her. So what happened? She taught you a lesson, didn’t she? But you can still spank her ‘large rear’ as you call it – come on, I dare you!" she concluded, waving that splendid bottom to encourage him.

Danny struggled to his feet. He’d never seen a woman look so inviting. She exuded sex appeal – and danger. But that added to the allure, and he found he had an erection. Once again Bonnie read his mind.

"Don’t worry about the ‘defeat boner’ as we call them, they’re very common."

"What do I tell my girlfriend?"

"I don’t know. Tell her you got into a fight with a woman, she knocked you out, and it gave you a hard-on. It might give her ideas!"

"You know you’re really annoying, and if anyone deserved a good spanking, you do."

"Come on then, try it – if you dare!"

He made to grab her, but she spun out of his way. Turning back to face him, with an evil grin on her face, she brought her right knee up hard into his balls, at the same time savaging his face with her right fist. Danny howled and staggered, a plumb target. Bonnie helped herself and thrust a missile of a left uppercut under his chin. 

His feet left the ground for a moment, but he somehow landed back on them. He didn’t know how it happened, but he was aware that he was now against a side of the bonnet this time, because he could feel a tyre at the back of his legs. It was obviously right where she wanted him, and she smashed a perfect right cross into his face. Again, he doubled back over the bonnet, righted himself, and a second left uppercut had him arching back over it.

He stood up once more, and a left cross sent him back down again. Yet again he lurched upwards, and second right cross sent straight down again. He turned round and leant on the bonnet, facing away from Bonnie. He couldn’t take any more. He must give up, he decided in despair. But before he could do anything, she hauled him roughly off the bonnet by his shoulder, tuned him round, and rammed her knee up into his balls a second time.

He felt sick, but he sensed what was coming. There was that evil woman smiling at him, her right fist clenched. Her mighty uppercut raised him properly off his feet this time. He landed more or less in the middle of the bonnet, rolled over, and came down to earth on the opposite side of the car.

It was the punch of her career, and out of habit she held the pose until Danny had disappeared over the other side of the car. She went to admire her handiwork and saw with satisfaction that she had knocked him out for a second time. She posed outrageously in her victory, alternating between a glamour model and a dominatrix with her prey.

True, she was going to have to get more repaired now than just the rear bumper, but she could exploit the publicity, and it would earn her a lot of money. She happily contemplated the newspaper headline:

Lady Boxer Sends Man Flying Over Car Bonnet