Miss Thompson was furious. Because the male coach was suspended following an investigation over an allegation of sexual assault (galleries 880 and 921), she had to coach both the male and the female students. That was bad enough. But when she left all the students in the gym with their allotted exercises so she could have a well-deserved break, one of the students had come into her office because of a crisis.

She returned to the gym to find one of the two would-be boxers out on his back in the ring. His sparring partner, a student called Adrian that she didn’t like, was wearing a sly smile. She learnt that he had goaded the smaller man into losing his temper. He had lashed out, giving the larger man an excuse to hit him "properly".

"That’s classic bully boy tactics," Miss Thompson commented, attending to the downed young man. "You were supposed to be sparring, to give him encouragement, not picking a fight with him."

She brought the man round and helped him out of the ring, telling him to relax for the rest of the afternoon. Then she cleared the gym, except for Adrian, and climbed back into the ring with him.

"Okay, take your gloves off," she told him, "It’s my turn to be the bully."

"I’m sorry?" Adrian asked.

"I’m going to do to you what you did to him," she explained, raising her fists.

"Now don’t insult me," Adrian warned her.

"Oh, I’ll insult you, once I’ve beaten you up and made you clean my office.

"Okay bitch, come on then," he concluded, raising his fists in turn. 

If she disliked Adrian, it was certainly mutual. He resented the way she encouraged the female students to take on the male ones, pointing out male vulnerabilities – as if they weren’t obvious – and working hard to give them an advantage. He was sure she liked to tease the men too, swaying her round bottom as she walked in front of them. In fact, the way she was dressed now was a tease, with her semi-transparent leotard clinging around her beautiful breasts and emphasising her prominent nipples. Okay, thought Adrain, she’s asking for it …

Miss Thompson edged herself out of the way of his attempted body shot, which sailed just past her narrow waist. She was maddeningly elusive, he thought, next watching his right fist go past her shoulder. For her part, as she ducked under an attempted right hook, she told herself to keep her concentration, watch his obvious moves, and wait for him to tire or make a mistake.

Adrian heaved a wasted left hook, and she noticed him starting to pant. She waited for his movement to burn itself out, then neatly pressed the palm of her right hand on the right side of his face, pushing it into the path of her left fist from the other side. Admit it, Miss Thompson, that felt good! You’ve been wanting to do that for a long time.

As her knuckles seemed to drill into his cheekbone, Adrian remembered (too late) what an accomplished street fighter she was. Proving it, she held him by both ears and rammed her right knee up into his chest. Adrian’s mouth opened in a silent exclamation of pain while his chest seemed to catch fire. 

Letting go of his ears, Miss Thompson crunched her left fist into exactly the same place on his left cheekbone that she had recently hit, before it had even stopped throbbing.  She had never seen a face so inviting, and she settled down into the action, slicing her right fist into his jaw.

A short, crisp left uppercut seemed to jar Adrian’s whole body. He grimaced as her hard fist scorched his chin. What was just as bad for him was the look that he caught on her face – one of thinly controlled fury. He tried a counterattack with a right body shot, but she batted it away with her left hand while the knuckles of her other hand tore into his lower lip.

Adrian tried again. He shot a left cross, but he was too slow. Miss Thompson saw it coming, and she was able to evade it to the extent that it went past her left side. His trouble was that he couldn’t control his temper. Frustration made his attacks ever wilder, and she ducked comfortably under another wayward punch, staring thoughtfully at his shorts as she did. It put her nicely in position to come back up with a looping right uppercut to his jaw. 

Adrian groaned and stumbled, and Miss Thompson went after him with her favourite attack – a right knee to the balls with a left punch to the face. She spent many a class teaching the women how best to do it, but none of them could ever match her immaculate coordination. It gave her every last ounce of power in the combination strike, and Adrian collapsed onto the mat with a groan of pain and despair. 

She was on him like a hungry tigress, kneeling on his throat, with a foot on his near wrist while menacing him with her fists. But then she changed her mind, remembering what had caught her eye moments earlier, when ducking under a wasted punch of Adrian’s.

"Thought so," she chuckled, pulling down his shorts to reveal a full erection. "It looks as if you like getting roughed up by Miss Thompson!"

"Never!" protested Adrian.

She ignored him and dragged him to his feet by his left arm, turning her grip on it into a lock. She hauled him in front of her, then kicked him in the balls. Adrian yelled at this second assault on them in just a short space of time. He fell on his back, clutching his injured manhood. The pain seemed to drive him mad, and he did little rolls on the mat, moaning in agony, much to Miss Thompson’s delight. 

"Not quite the bully boy now, are you?" she taunted him. "Oh, you’re fine against an inexperienced young man, barely out of his teens, but put you against a lady of my class and you’re pathetic! Come on, move!" she concluded, seizing his left arm once more.

She dragged him along the mat for a while, just for the hell of it, before amusing herself by locking his fingers in turn and making him cry out in pain again. Then, having pulled him to his feet by his other arm, she kept a hold of that wrist and punched him in his left ear from behind. The blow deafened him with its impact then made his hearing go "foggy". His sense of balance was seriously damaged too.

Miss Thompson hauled the useless young man round to face her and rammed her right fist into his stomach. She gave him no time to absorb this new pain, but thrust her left fist in at the same place. 

"You do most of the work with the body shots," Adrian recalled her telling a young woman, then you can have some fun going for his face."

True to her instruction, she belted his jaw with a right cross. It shifted him directly in front of her, so she savaged his chin with a rising left cross. Her blonde pig tails waved furiously, and her bottom swayed rhythmically as her fist made its mark. 

Miss Thompson’s vengeful right fist charged into Adrian’s left ear, still raw after she hit it from behind previously, and he yelped with the renewed, redoubled pain. He reacted with a streaky left punch; she leant out of danger and banged her left fist in at his cheekbone.

She had a third go at his left ear. Tears entered his eyes as she struck home with a blistering right hook. He had reached the "It’s not fair" stage of all bullies. For her part, Miss Thompson knew she "had" him. Just keep the barrage up, and he’ll break soon enough, she told herself, banging a short left hook in at his jaw. 

The curvy, busty blonde gave the sulky, surly bully a black eye. She battered his eye with a fine right cross and it immediately swelled up and turned an ugly black. She allowed herself a brief smile, pleased with the result of her handiwork, before planting a beauty of a left cross on his left cheekbone. She favoured a rising punch as opposed to a flat one, and she had spent hours "taking it out" on the punching bag in the gym. Adrian’s face now paid tribute to her hard work.

She came at him with a right cross at his opposite jaw, more sharply inclined than before, from a slight squat. It sent him to his side a couple of paces, lining him up nicely (and dangerously) for a third attack on his balls. He let out a despairing wail as her left boot hit the jackpot, and he sank to his knees. 

Miss Thompson’s speed, energy and alertness were all as keen now as they had been at the start of the fight, and she put him on his back after sending her left fist round in an arc to his right ear. Alternately cursing and sobbing, he tried to get up, but she pushed him back down with her foot. 

"Little Miss Thompson has put the big male bully on his back, and – yes, she has - she’s made him cry!" that lady gloated, pinning him to the mat with her boot.   

"I’ve got a cold!" Adrian blurted out.

"Yeah, right," she scoffed. "That’s not all she’s done, either. I said earlier that I thought you liked getting roughed up by Miss Thompson – just look at the massive erection she’s given you!" 

She climbed on him and straddled him. "I think you secretly like getting beaten up by a lady!" Smack, went her fist.

"NO!" Adrian protested while she sat on his cock.

"Yeah, you love it!" Smack went her fist, while her buttocks ground into his cock with the blow.

"NEVER!"

"Rubbish." Smack went her fist into his eye once more.

"Oh God, ah … SHIT!"

"Yes!" Miss Thompson exclaimed, straddling his face and flexing in triumph.

"I love getting into a fight with a man and making him come after I’ve beaten him up!" she cried, standing with one foot on the defeated man’s cock, while she flexed over him. "It’s the ultimate in women’s liberation!"