Novice fight Part 2
By TJ, Constructive comment welcome at tjlesnig@gmail.com
Ellie v Jane

Round 5

Both fighters showed their fitness as each sprang eagerly into the ring when called, bodies glowing
under the hot ring lights, rivulets of sweat and cooling water their corners had doused them with
trickled down their lean hard bodies, perfection enhanced rather than marred by the red blotches of
impact, very evenly spread across each fighter. Nipples, almost glowing with excitement were rock
hard. Each fighter had so much adrenaline coursing through them, the initial excitement of the early
rounds was now enhanced by anticipation, they’d each nearly knocked their opponent out and, a
little fear they’d nearly been knocked out themselves! They could lose! But each vowed that this
wouldn’t happen, each dreamt of standing over her defeated opponent, superior, the stronger fitter
women.

All of that meant was that when the bell rang they flew at each other again! Punches flew, most
were blocked, but enough got through to cause grunts of pain, body, head and boobs all took hits
but... after four frenetic rounds the pace was unsustainable and barely a minute into the round and
they were flagging, panting for breath, each threw a volley of punches, but tired arms and legs
frozen in place meant that this last flurry achieved nothing. Almost with relief, they started a slow
circle, as they waited for some energy to return.

Ellie was the first to strike in this new stage of the fight. She waited for a clear opportunity before
letting fly with a left jab that hit Jane full on the lips. Jane staggered back, that had hurt! And with
the iron taste of blood in her mouth the fight suddenly felt real Jane soon returned the favor, Ellie
strode forward looking to strike again but straight into Jane’s left fist which whipped into her left
cheek. They each exchanged a few more head shots before realizing two things. Taking their time
added power to their punches! And, it’s probably a good idea to guard the head!

A few more punches each thudded into gloves before the third lesson was learnt... if the head is
guarded go to the body. With this realization more punches struck home, belly, ribs, boobs and
head. Thuds of impact were now at a much slower pace, but, they were harder, firmer and the
accompanying cries of pain and expressions were more telling. Punches to the belly, made a
satisfying thud, but each fighter had toned and strong muscle shields, each felt they could take such
blows all day. Blows that hit the ribs were more painful. Neither fighter had explicitly hit kidneys or
liver, but a punch into the ribs did make each fighter gasp... not pleasant!... boobs! Each fighter was
squealing out in outrage when a boob, usually the left, was hit, but outrage rather more so than
pain. There was a dull slightly sickening pain as they felt their boobs compressed and dragged
around their bodies but neither fighter felt there was much to be gained by specifically aiming at
breasts. Where they each found a vulnerability was blows low to the belly.

They traded belly blows, the smack of leather on firm toned stomachs but lack of much in the way of
pained reaction showed that each fighter had worked hard at toning up... but then Jane’s fist
arrowed in much lower striking underneath Ellie’s guard. Jane felt her fist sink in. No muscle shield
here and she thrilled at the pained gasp from Ellie who quickly retreated, hunched over, her face
screwing up in increasing pain as the effects of Jane’s punch took a moment or two to reach full
effect. Ellie sunk onto her haunches, bent over as she fought to recover treating the crowd to an
erotic view of her bum, tight, skimpy shorts clinging to every contour, taught material dipping
between her splayed thighs outlining her cleft, a hint of sweat induced transparency revealing a hint
if pinkness and a dark vee as the material reached her front. Ellie took a few quick gasped breaths
before forcing herself to slow down and take deeper breaths as she slowly stood up, well inside the
20 second count.

The fight resumed, Jane desperate to score another low blow waded in, but Ellie now had one hand
set much lower, and bending forwards she was making Jane over reach. Ellie largely defended for
the next 20 seconds or so but as Jane stretched forwards once more tiring to stretch a left hand
towards Jane's belly Ellie struck back, a left jab snapping Jane’s head back which was followed up by
a right fist that hit just above Jane’s waistband. Jane staggered back, a stricken look on her face,
cheeks puffed out as her mouth described a perfect ‘O’ of pained surprise before she too sunk down
onto her haunches to take a count whilst Ellie rested against the ropes. Jane regained her feet and
the two fighters wearily stepped forward, but before a blow could be traded the bell rang and they
thankfully slumped down onto their stools.

The pace of the last round had been much slower, but harder, more targeted punches had taken a
toll. Each fighter sagged in their corners, desperately trying to get oxygen back into their system, to
recharge energy sapped muscles. Each fighter though, now new a new vulnerability, in themselves,
and their opponent. As they sat during the break, feeling the dull sickening ache from their ovaries
they knew that this was an area they had to target and defend.

Round 6

Stalemate... both fighters now held a glove low, neither wanting to risk being struck in their
‘womanly vitals’ but each kept trying and they developed a bent over posture, keeping this sensitive
area away from their opponent. Few blows landed, and when they did it was at full stretch and the
power was much reduced. Even so, these punches hurt, sickening pulses of pain seared through
their bodies as ovaries and uterus took painful blows. Each fighter’s stance widened as legs lost
strength - in more advanced fights with no low blow restrictions at all this would be a fatal flaw - but
in this fight it just indicated their waning strength, as did their increasingly drunken steps around the
ring and gasping breath. They’d inexpertly boxed themselves to a stalemate. Neither had the
strength or technique to land a knockout blow. So as the 6th round finished both sets of corners
gave the only advice that was left. “Stop going for a ko, you’re just wearing yourself out, target her
body, but especially her boobs. If you hit her boobs enough, you’ll eventually get easy access to her
lower belly. At the moment she’s letting her guard drop every now and then so when she does keep
it simple, left jabs mostly, throw in some one twos If you can’t get through it won’t do any harm to
hit her upper arm and shoulder; that will weaken her and reduce the power of her punches But,
She’s a southpaw, so watch her jab, keep your guard up, block, and you’ll have a chance to pound
her left tit.

Round 7

With both fighters given that advice the fight changed to an attritional war targeting each other's
pert b cups. At the start of round 7 each fighter circled, conscious now of their opponents’ breasts,
half hidden behind a left glove, bouncing and gyrating as they danced their tired dance. Stiff erected
nipples centered on puckered areola were the bull’s eyes that each now targeted. Leading with their
lefts each jabbed when they saw an opening. And at the start of the round breasts were struck with
almost every blow. Fighting still bent over from the previous round each fighter’s breasts were easy
targets as punches slipped under or over a defense squashing firm pert boobs into each other's ribs,
surprising amounts of tit flesh bulging around invading fists until the fighters learnt to stand up
straighter and keep their defense tighter and closer to the body. Punches now hit defending upper
arms more often than boobs, But, the fighters were quickly tiring and as the round entered the
second half, the pace slowed. Punches weren’t flying as fast now but the accuracy and power, as it
had earlier, increased. Guards were dropping more often allowing fists to drive straight pancaking
each fighters’ boobs in turn. The girlish screams at each invading fist were more of frustration than
pain, ‘how did my guard drop! With more opportunities the right fist comes into play and the cries
start to turn a little more pained as left fists crush breasts into ribs and right hooks angle in from the
side both crushing and dragging boobs across the body and abrading nipples as gloves rip across the
sensitive flesh. As the round ends the fighters retreat once more to their stools their breasts
reddened and showing a pock mark patterning of blows, particularly the left.

Round 8

More invigorated than they’ve been for a few rounds the fighter’s stride into the ring and start
throwing punches at each other, each still trying to strike her opponents tits. But, they’ve both
learnt and guards are more solidly in place so the heavy rain of blows each fighter throws largely
strike the secondary targets of upper arms and shoulders. A dozen or so blows each are thrown as
they before Jane gets a jab though into Ella's left tit, nailing it flat with a punch full on the nipple.
‘Oooh’ Ellie exclaims, her pretty mouth forming a surprised ‘o’ of pain. That stung! A few blows later
Ellie manages to retaliate and Jane rocks back, her turn to gasp in surprised hurt. Neither fighter was
badly hurt, but they each were learning that the pain from breast punches grew incrementally. Each
punch ‘tenderizes’ the tissue, bruising and swelling continues even during the break so that each
subsequent punch is hitting an ever more tender area.

The fighters are now more motivated to strike and sink their fist deep into her opponents’ pert tits.
But also, more motivated to keep her guard up! So, for the next 30 seconds or so each unleashed a
volley of punches that struck forearms and shoulders in a tattoo of thuds and squeals before
tiredness forced them both to slow. Halfway through the round each fighter was finding that holding
8 oz gloves up was hard. Jane’s glove drops, and Ellie’s right fist sweeps into the inside of Jane’s left
tit, pinning half of the boob flat against Jane’s ribs and forcing the nipple and outer half of the boob
to whip out as Ella’s glove works like a mangle crushing milk glands against sharp ribs as the glove
tears across the boob forcing the tip of the folded boob to bulge obscenely out to the side. Jane’s
face screwed up in pain and she gave out an involuntary short gasped ‘eeek’ as she stumbles back in
pained surprise at the increased pain. Ellie’s satisfaction is short lived though. Jane instantly
retaliates with a straight jab to Ellie’s right boob, then another in quick succession. Ellie raises her
left fist to forestall a third hit but in doing so her left elbow drifts away from her body allowing Jane’s
right fist to sweep powerfully into the outside of Ella’s left tit. Ella’s turn to gasp in pained shock as
she feels Jane’s fist attempt to tear her gland across her body. Then as Ellie staggers back off-balance
Jane hits two quick left jabs, a quick cadence of wet thuds into the centre of Ellie’s still distorted
boob, leaving a crater of compressed white flesh that instantly springs back turning a dusky pink as
blood flows back in.

They warily circle each other, waiting for opportunities that aren’t long in coming. Fists drop
allowing strikes to land with increasing cries of pain as they hit. The left breast is probably hit 3:1 and
particularly pained cries come when a left right combo combines a crushing straight and sweeping
right into an increasingly reddened left tit. Each fighter seems to be tiring quickly now, legs seem
shaky, chests heave as they strain to replace oxygen into their system, sweat streams down their
bodies and explosions of spray erupt as fist smack into sweaty tits. They are learning that pain is
debilitating, the body produces extra adrenaline which dulls the pain, but raises the heart beat
which quickly drains their already strained resources.

When the round ends they slump down onto their stools; uncaring as seconds sponge down their
bodies, their only thoughts are to recover strength and get much needed water into their bodies.
Seconds allow a little more water now, conscious that they must not allow their fighters to
dehydrate - they balance this with trying to make sure that they don’t start the next round with
bellies or bladders full of water. Experienced seconds have seen the frankly horrid effects that taking
on too much water can have, let's just say that a punch to a belly doesn’t send all the water up....
some is forced down and an incompressible fluid putting immense pressure on the lower digestive
tract can have distressingly explosive effects!

Round 9

The break ends... much too early! The fighters start with surprise but heave themselves up and
tiredly walk to face each other as the bell rings. Perth breasts jiggle, but each fighters’ boobs show
signs of the hits then have taken, the left now has signs of bruising overlaying the overall reddening
and is clearly starting to swell. Nipples stand out, erect reddened nubs looking like tiny corks about
to explode. Despite tiredness the fighters start the round at a decent pace, each has been told to
keep targeting upper chest and shoulder if they can’t tag a boob. The punches are flying in and each
fighter is wincing as punches hit already flesh. The reasoning behind these punches is soon apparent.
After only a handful of punches Jane’s guard drops and Ellie throws a three-punch combination, Jab,
hook jab which all land solidly onto Jane’s reddened boob. ‘Urggh, ooomphf, Eeiiiii’, the last cry
almost turning into a shriek as Jane’s boob explodes in agony. Again, the round break has done no
favors, boobs have swollen and consequently become much more tender. So tender that when Jane
replies with a volley of punches into Ellie’s taught left boob there is a hint of a tear in Ellie’s eyes!

Boobs are being struck much more freely, mostly the left, the few punches that strike the right are
almost seen as a relief, but the pace and increased pain quickly drain the fighters. They stumble
around the ring desperately trying to keep their guard up but finding this increasingly difficult. They
each start to realize the diabolical state the fight is in, they must destroy their opponents boob
before their own boobs are done for. Despite tiredness they each try to increase the pace,
breathing, wheezing, breaths in through gaping mouths they throw tired bomb after tired bomb
eliciting ever more anguished gasps with each hit. Another factor was slowly making itself felt.
Holding a fist up was now starting to hurt! The swelling left boob was starting to pull down on chest
ligaments in opposition to muscles trying to hold a left arm in guard position, added to the blows to
shoulder and upper chest this was increasingly becoming a factor.

The round finishes and for a moment neither fighter know where they should go. They weave and
stumble back to their stools and slump down ashen faced with pain

Part 3 to follow shortly

Constructive comment welcome at tjlesnig@gmail.com