Christian was embarrassed whenever he saw Louise after their recent encounter (gallery 882). Let’s not forget, he was devoutly religious, and troubled by feelings of guilt most people wouldn’t feel. Worse, she seemed to have taken to wearing one of her dancing leotards indoors all the time as well – didn’t she realise how distracting it was for him? If ever he went into the living room, there she would be, touching her toes so he could see her voluptuous rear view, giving him a cheery "Don’t mind me, I’ve got to keep supple." 

But she was a nice girl, and she decided she had better stop tormenting him after a few days. He had been punished enough. So when she saw him next, she said to him gently:

"I hope you don’t feel awkward with me after our session the other day." He blushed furiously and mumbled incoherently. "Yes, I can see that you do," she told him, in the same vein. "Come on, lighten up," she coaxed.

"Thank you," he stammered. "Yes, I do feel awkward," he admitted. "Firstly, you discovered me wearing your tricot …"

"I’ve forgiven you for that."

"Thanks again. But secondly, we were … very intimate when you did your wrestling practice."

"Didn’t you like it?"

"Well, it hurt quite a lot, and I struggled to breathe for much of the time."

"Of course. But didn’t you like grappling with a woman?"

He looked away from her. "Yes. That’s partly the trouble. It excited me. You’re very strong."

"Thank you. I work hard at it."

"And I’ve started to wonder …"

"Well?"

"What you’d be like in a fist fight." He covered his face with his hands in shame.

"I see," she answered, after a pause. "So you want to have a fist fight with me?"

"I’d LOVE to!" he blurted out. "You’re so sexy when you fight, I’ve thought about nothing else these last few days!"

"Hmm, well we must get this out of your system, I can see that. Okay, I’ll do it, on two conditions: one, I want you to fight back (if you can), otherwise it’ll be no fun; two, you must be naked."

"WHAT?"

"Naked. You said the fighting excites you. I want to see how much it does." 

*****

"No sign of any excitement yet," Louise thought to herself as they squared up. "Anyway, I’ll go easy on him."

Such was her plan. He was no fighter, she thought, and although she had only learnt rudimentary boxing as part of her MMA, she was confident she could beat him.

"Not bad," she thought, as Christian leant back to escape a left hook. "No, not bad at all," she continued her thoughts as he evaded a left cross.

After two more, admittedly gentle punches were avoided, she began to have her doubts. Did he know something about boxing, after all? Did he have another motive for this? The annoying smile he wore sometimes made her want to land a proper punch on his face.

Yes, it was starting to annoy Louise. As her left fist swept at nothing again, that smile of his was became infuriating. Oh come on, she thought as he twisted out of the way of yet another one, you don’t get to be that skilled in evasion without plenty of practice. Frustration getting the better of her, she lost her footing while aiming a body blow and landed face down on the mat. 

"Are you okay?" asked Christian, offering to help her up. She accepted, but was still none too happy.

"Where did you learn such evasion techniques?" she demanded.

"I’ve been going regularly to boxing classes for 5 years," he admitted.

"You might have told me!" she complained.

"Why?" he asked, with some justification.

"It would have been the decent thing to do. After all, I told you I was in an MMA club and wanted to practice my holds for a match. There was no deception there."

"No, but you made a fool out of me all the same."

"So you thought you’d make a fool out of me in revenge?"

"Pretty much. Cheer up though, you only lost a bit of dignity after all."

"Dignity is very important to me!" she answered, furiously slapping his face. 

"What the – OW!" She slapped it again. Then again, pushing him down to his knees with her hand still on his face. 

"I was good to you," she fumed, hitting him to the mat. "I forgave you for being a pervert, and all I asked was for you to be a practice dummy in return. And you repay me like this!

"So you wanted a fight, did you?" she asked, sitting on his middle. "I’ll give you a fight!" she concluded, swinging her left fist into his face. Then came her right in a similar blow. 

Christian didn’t know much about women (mind you, who does?) He had no idea just how important – crucial – a subjective concept like dignity was. He was used to male company. If your mate fell flat on his face when you were sparring, you’d say, "Get up, you idiot," meaning no harm. He had no idea that you just simply wouldn’t do that with a woman – and now she was punishing him for it. She banged her left fist into his chin, quickly followed by her right into his eye. 

"Oh, so you ARE excited now?" she exclaimed, standing up. Yes, he had a huge erection (not to mention a black eye and bruised chin), and she disdainfully placed her boot on it. "Like getting beaten up by a woman, do you? Come on, get up, pervert!" She dragged him up by his hair, then marched him to the ropes. There, she held him by the throat in her right hand, clenched her left fist, and let him have it – bang under the chin. 

Switching fists, she did more damage to his eye, before thrusting her left deep into his stomach. She fought like a whirlwind, and Christian seemed to fold around her fist. When he "recovered", she got him on the jaw with her right. 

"It’s all my fault," he cursed himself inwardly for suggesting a fist fight in the first place, then making it worse by his ungallant behaviour. He had accidentally unleashed a fury, and instinct told him he must try to fight back. He lashed out with his right; Louise diverted it with her right hand and plunged her left low, low down in his stomach, seeming to set it on fire. 

He couldn’t get away from the ropes. She had placed him there, and her fists kept him there. A rather fancy, angled right uppercut moved him along them to the side a bit, but he was no nearer escaping them. She sent him back, like a clock pendulum, with her left against his jaw. Back where he had started, she banged one in on his chin, seeming to flatten him against the ropes. 

The busty, curvy blonde, her long hair waving a little with the action, now punched him in the mouth. A bump against Christian’s left shoulder told him he was in a corner. Like in an odd dream, he found himself wondering how he had got there – but then Louise’s right fist sent his head and right shoulder through the middle and top ropes. 

Seizing him by the wrist, she pulled him back in and swung her left fist into his ear. In that surreal dream-like way he now saw everything, he found he was no longer in the corner, and seemed to be steadily moving along the ropes, courtesy of Louise’s fists.

And now her knees. She slammed her right one up into Christian’s mouth. She was now hitting him in places she had previously hit, exacerbating the pain already there. It was a good job Chrisian was in bit of a dream – call it shock, if you like – because it muffled the severity of the blows for him. (The full impact would be felt when the shock wore off.) 

The graceful, nimble ballerina was proving herself to be a bit of a street brawler on the quiet. She now banged her right fist into Christian’s kidney. Dream or not, he felt that all right, letting out a yelp as her fist struck home. The body blows appeared to be waking him up, so she hit him lower than ever in the stomach with her left. Louise grunted with the effort of the punch; Christian did the same with the result of it. 

"Have another go at his face, girl," she remembered a friend of hers saying when she caused a male dancer to regret "touching her up" during a rehearsal. It was good advice then, and so it proved now, as she hammered his jaw with a right cross. It was a classic, orthodox boxer’s punch, with perfect footwork to give it maximum power.

A left hook to the jaw put Christian in a very odd position, so he looked more like a monkey the way he stood, with his elbows out, fists in and squatting. If he went "Ooooh, ooooh, ooooh," and jumped about, it would have completed the image. It was a good punch though, as usual. So was her next one, which sent him partly through the ropes again. It was a right hook to the ear. As she had got him in the other ear a few moments back, his hearing was now totally "foggy". To him, his shout of pain sounded far away.

Having shown herself adept at conventional boxing, Louise now threw in (literally) a rather unconventional shot. Jumping from her right foot, she struck Christian so hard on the jaw with her left that it would have put him down, no question, had the ropes not been behind him. As it was, they seemed to sag and complain at their burden.

Holding his left wrist to steady him, she jammed her right fist hard into his stomach, low again. Once again, superlative footwork meant she put the maximum strength into the blow, with her right foot well back, supporting her. When she withdrew her fist, Christian stooped in reaction, so she head locked him and drove her right knee into his stomach, higher for a change. 

Brutally exploiting this new injury, she hurled her left fist into the same place. Once again, Christian crumpled around her fist. When he stood back up, she greeted him with her right fist in his eye. 

A referee would have stopped the fight by now. But Louise showed no sign of letting up or getting tired, even. Once again, she tore into his right ear with her left fist. The way she ruthlessly hit raw injuries bordered on cruelty.  She had also knocked him all the way along the ropes to the next corner. Seemingly intent on keeping him there, she hit him with a straight right in the other ear. Her fist made a hideous sound as it landed, then it felt as if both ears were encased in thick foam rubber that muted every sound. It didn’t mute the pain, though.

The back of Christian’s head knocked against the corner post as she shot a ferocious left uppercut at him. He panicked at this stage, and made to hit her with a left, but his punch ended up at an angle of 45 degrees above her head when she planted her right fist on his chin. 

It couldn’t go on. Perhaps even Louise realised it, because she now delivered the fight’s climactic blow. It was a double strike of a knee to the balls and a final punch to the face. Once more, Christian’s head and shoulders shot between the middle and top ropes. Then two shutters seemed to come down over his eyes, and he toppled to the mat, unconscious. Louise celebrated her tremendous win.

But, still panting with the recent effort and excitement, sudden relaxation brought a mood swing. She felt guilty. She was fond of Christian, but her fury had temporarily blinded her to her affection. "Please wake up," she murmured.

When he did, she was all tenderness, helping him out of the ring and back to the apartment.  Once there, she got him to lie down, but he groaned and explained that he was expected at church the next morning because it was a Sunday, but he couldn’t go the way his face looked.

"Let’s worry about that in a minute," she coaxed, "We’ll think of something. Give me a few moments."

She came back a couple of minutes later. "You don’t have to worry about church tomorrow," she told him. "I’ve rung them and told them you fell off your bike and it’s made a bit of a mess of your face."

"You lied to them!" Christian was appalled.

"What did you want me to say? That we had a fight, I beat you up, knocked you out, blackened one of your eyes and bruised the rest of your face?"

As she said that, Christian’s cock went fully erect again. Louise tutted and continued:

"You know, if we were married, I could beat you up every Monday, in any way your kinky heart desired, and it would give you all week to recover for church. For your studying, you could work from home."

"Hey, yeah!" he answered enthusiastically; then gasped when he felt her fingers curl around his cock.

"Shhh, relax," she whispered. "Here, feel my tits. Yes, you like that, don’t you?"

"Yeah," he croaked.

"Shhh, try not to talk. We’re engaged now, so we can do this - almost. Anyway, I don’t care. Come on, lose that tension … that’s right, just like that. Good boy!"