Dan Boxer's blog

ALIA AND ANNA
PART THREE

A fight night in Vegas always draws the celebrity crowd, and tonight was no exception. At a normal fight, though, it's the male celebs that grab most of the attention.
This one was different. Womanhood was front and center, with female celebrities everywhere and many of them having young studs in tow. They were anticipating getting off on the sight of two female boxers in the main event, pummeling each other's bodies until one was victorious and the other beaten on the floor, and quickly being able to take those young studs for all they were worth upstairs in their suites.
If they couldn't beat the rush to the elevator after the fight, there were always the roulette tables to throw their boy-toys on and satisfy their lust. And those tables offered the added incentive of the stake in the middle of the spinning wheel, an emergency dildo in case their studs suddenly faded.
The MGM Grand was packed. Eddie's non-stop drum-beating and Dan's publicity machine had done their jobs. Not only was the huge arena sold out at sky-high ticket prices, the casino floor was packed with people squeezed in to watch the fight on closed-circuit TV. Thousands of people who couldn't squeeze inside the doors waited outside, just to catch a glimpse of the celebrities and the fighters.
Every room in the hotel was also booked at fight-night prices – four or five times what the same rooms would normally bring – and the combination of full rooms and a full casino was orgasmic for the normally-staid hotel owners.
Orgasms had also been regular occurrences for Anna and Arlen in the 24 hours leading up to the bout – even just before they headed downstairs to the limos that would take them to the MGM Grand. Anna was so confident and so certain that their master plan had worked … that Alia's fists had become marshmallows and posed no danger to her … that she figured a little more extracurricular activity, one last screw, couldn't hurt, and would actually get the blood and the juices flowing.
She wanted those juices ready to go, because she planned much more than a knockout win. She was going to physically and mentally destroy Alia, show that she was a much better fighter and a much better sexual dominant, and nobody who saw what was about to happen would ever forget it. It would be burned into their corneas, indelibly stamped into their brains, the impetus for sexual gymnastics for decades to come.
As she would find out in the next few hours, she was right … but nowhere nearly as she expected.
She joined Arlen and Eddie in the limo (Dan had sent a message that he had some details to take care of, and would rendezvous with them at some point at the arena). The ride there was a short one, and Anna got more and more excited as the limo neared the arena and pulled in front of the hotel, and the outside crowd crammed around them and pushed against the doors. It made it difficult, but Arlen and Eddie were finally able to push a door open and scramble out to clear room for Anna.
When she stepped out of the limo, though, the crowd again surged forward, pushing her male handlers out of the way and pushing the limo door shut – with Anna's right hand trapped in between. She screamed in pain, and it was all that Arlen could do to pry the door open enough to pull her hand out.
They hustled inside, Anna covered with a robe and security covering all sides as they ran down a corridor to the arena locker rooms. Once inside, they looked at Anna's now-bloody right hand and went into near-panic. "Does this hurt … how about here … here?," Eddie said as he poked and prodded between Anna's knuckles and fingers.
Her wrist was still throbbing but the pain began to subside, and Anna insisted she was all right. "Just let me run some cold water on it before we wrap," she said as she headed to the bathroom.
Eddie and Arlen exchanged worried glances, but there wasn't much they could do. Besides, they were certain that both of Alia's hands were in a lot worse shape than Anna's right, and if she had to administer a beating to the little bitch with mostly her left hand, so be it.
Anna returned, looking much less worried … and looking much better in their eyes since she'd changed into her high-cut pink "foxy boxing" trunks with "Everlast" on the expansive elastic waist band (the significance of the word Everlast displayed inches above Anna's pussy wasn't lost on either of the men). The sheer pink satin and the big elastic band stretched way too tight across Anna's ample middle and were also cut as low as decently possible, making her belly hang over to nearly cover up the name brand, and also rode up high to expose the layers of cellulite that congregated on her thighs. Just like over the past four weeks, no one seemed concerned about Anna's lack of muscle tone, especially in her gut, and a big meal earlier in the day ("you need a lot of protein," the nutritionally-challenged Eddie said) only emphasized the layer of fat.
The short trunks weren't the only tight part of her fight outfit, as the matching pink sports bra strained to keep Anna's bulbous chest in tow. She also had matching 8-ounce pink gloves and pink shoes, and was covered in a pink-and-white too-short robe that showed too much of her strong but flabby thighs, completing a look more street-walker than athlete. But she thought she looked fantastic.
When her hands were taped and the gloves were on, she only warmed up for a couple of minutes before the knock at the door signaled her time to enter the arena. She would enter first, since she held no actual title, but she knew that the crowd would give her the biggest welcome.
"Time to make some cunt suffer," she said as she followed Eddie and Arlen out of the dressing room door. And she couldn't resist reaching around Arlen's waist with one of her gloves, stroking his crotch and feeling it harden instantly … just because she could.
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Alia and her trainer had arrived at the arena hours before Anna's entourage made its troubled entrance. She wanted the solitude, for one, but she also wanted to make sure that there would be no other monkey-business, no other attempts to incapacitate her. She'd kept her East Coast buddies nearby, just in case, and they all had seats near the ring. The sight of a full row of Mafia-looking dudes in pin-stripe suits would make any would-be troublemakers think twice.
She also wanted to get inside her dressing room before anyone could delay her, and accidentally find out that her hands were fine – better than fine, actually … they almost twitched with excitement every time Alia thought about what she would be doing to Anna in short order. To finish carrying out the illusion, though, she had wrapped her hands in heavy Ace bandages for the short trip from her room and hotel to the arena, and she made sure that the people already outside the casino (the larger crowd wouldn't arrive for a while) got a good look at her bandaged hands.
Once inside the locker room, though, the bandages came off and Alia was free to finish her mental preparation. Her physical preps had been perfect … her body was at its absolute minimum body-fat, her arms and shoulders chiseled and strong, her chest muscles uplifting her perfect breasts, her abs a picture of sinew and muscle (few had ever seen a tighter six-pack, especially on a woman), and her legs toned, supple and constantly bouncing to relieve the pent-up tension and aggression.
Her black hair, pulled back into a no-nonsense ponytail, framed dark eyes that seemed to have fire inside – fire that matched the color of Anna's blonde hair and ignited Alia's desires to rid the world of a cunt like Anna for good. Her passion had reached a point that she didn't care whether Anna left the ring breathing or not when the fight was over … she only wanted to make sure that everyone, EVERYONE, would remember every second of the 12 rounds of agony she planned to inflict on her voluptuous rival.
She slipped into her bathroom and donned her fighting outfit … one she would wear at least at the start. Don't need underwear tonight, she thought … it would just get in the way of what she had planned for later in the fight. She had chosen to go with black – Alia knew she looked damned sensational in black – and put on her tight high-cut satin black shorts which also had "Everlast" on the waistband. A tight black sports bra accentuated her upper-body development and her black boots were cut just low enough to show her strong calves.
While her trainer was wrapping her hands, Alia reached in her bag and pulled out two sets of brass knuckle covers and handed them to him. They exchanged a knowing look, and her trainer prepared to fit them to her fists and deftly cover them with tape. It turned her black 8-ounce gloves into a pair of five-pound punching weapons. She figured she didn't need them to win if everything went according to plan, but they would be valuable in the butchering that she planned to unleash on Anna's disgustingly out-of-shape body.
The thought of using weighted gloves never failed to get Alia to instant arousal, and she shuddered on the padded dressing-room table when each of the brass coverings – specially fitted to match Alia's hands, so well that they fit like well-work gloves – were placed around her knuckles. She used to use horseshoes, pipes or regular brass knuckles to load up her gloves – the better to issue the delicious beatings she so craved – but the fitted brass kept her own hands from getting hurt … and she loved how they felt … powerful and erotic at the same time.
Her trainer knew the reaction that the weights had on Alia, and he had one of her sparring partners already kneeling in between the two, beginning to finger Alia's pussy while the tape began its task of binding brass to skin.
Alia tore her black satins off (she had brought extras, just in case), grabbed her sparring partner by the back of the head and pushed his face into her fiery mound. He began licking for all he was worth, and Alia arched back on the table and began a series of pelvic thrusts, driving the tongue deeper and deeper until she erupted with ecstasy. She laid back on the length of the table, a pool of her juices running out, and her trainer slowly massaged her lower body and heaving chest until she brought herself back under control.
"You ready?," he asked.
"I am now," she said.
Alia returned to the bathroom to clean herself up and don new satin trunks, and took her mind off of weighted gloves and orgasms by shadow-boxing in front of a mirror for a few minutes. Damn, I look really hot, she thought, but she put those thoughts out of her mind. If she went into the ring with an odor of excitement coming from between her legs, it might tip someone off that Arlen and Eddie's plan had backfired. She didn't want anyone to know that she was a fully-healthy fighting machine until just the right minute, and that minute was quickly approaching as she got her knock on the door.
Alia donned her shiny hooded black robe, one designed to continue the air of uncertainty about her, and followed her trainer out the door. She heard the crowd's wild screaming from well down the hall as Anna made her appearance, and all she could do was smile.
++++
It was warm in the MGM Grand arena, warmer than most boxing veterans could remember. But that was almost fitting with the hot numbers that made their way through the ropes – Alia being naturally hot and Anna boasting a could-have-been-hot body had it been in some semblance of shape. But most fans eyeing Anna saw only big blonde hair, tiny tight clothes and a prodigious rack that were all exposed when Arlen pulled off her robe to great fanfare at the end of her introduction. She danced around the ring with a broad grin and with all parts jiggling, even those that weren't supposed to. Her right hand was still tender and had started to throb while she was bouncing around, but she ignored the mild pain.
The sight of Anna's pudgy body almost made Alia sick to her stomach, but she never changed expression and never took her eyes off her larger adversary while her own introductions were made. When the referee called them to the center of the ring for final instructions, Alia still had her robe and hood tucked tight and only stared straight ahead – except for one quick glance at the referee when he was finished, just to make silently sure he remembered their agreement.
Anna extended her hands to touch gloves and Alia did the same … but Alia drew back and her face winced when the gloves hit together. It was a ruse … one more piece of Alia's deception, and Anna was completely taken in, smiling broadly as she backed up to her corner. Alia turned her back as she walked to her own corner and trainer, and it was all she could do not to burst into laughter. This is going to be such nasty fun, she thought, as she shed her robe and heard those close enough to ringside give an audible "oooooo" when they saw her taut and talented body.
Anna was banging her gloves together, almost in glee, and the "thwack" could be heard even over the din of the crowd. Alia merely kept tensing and shrugging her shoulders … no glove pounding, lest Anna suspect something at the last second … only have to carry out the deception a few more seconds … oh, god, she felt hot as fire …
"DING … DING … DING"
She may have been at a speed deficit, but Anna came out of her corner for Round 1 quickly, reaching mid-ring with hands high and a big grin on her face, waiting on Alia's approach that was slow and calculated. But Alia's head was moving, so as not to provide an easy target … despite everything else, Anna could still punch, and there was no need to take chances.
The two circled for a few seconds before Anna jabbed twice with her left, Alia blocking each with ease as she bobbed and moved. Quickly Anna stepped inside with her left foot, cocked back and unloaded a big roundhouse right hand aimed squarely at Alia's head.
Alia instinctively ducked under the punch – since Anna didn't have great hand speed, it wasn't that difficult – and loaded up to unleash a big left hook right into Anna's jiggling belly.
WHOOOFFFFF … her hook landed perfectly, and from Alia's crouch it had plenty of power as it seemed to bury into flesh all the way to the rib cage. Anna suddenly had a dumb look on her face and no way to get it off since her breath had been taken away, and when she dropped her hands to her body Alia pivoted to the right and RIPPED a right cross that caught Anna square on the point of the chin.
Anna dropped to her hands and knees as if she'd been shot, and a dozen questions flew through her mind – How did I get down here? Why do my ribs and chin hurt? Did I get hit … couldn't have, nobody punches that fast. Did Alia do this? She couldn't have hit that hard … her hands are busted up. Or they were supposed to be …
Suddenly the confusion on her face was replaced with a look of horror as her head began to clear, and she saw Alia standing over her, breasts heaving and heavy black gloves hanging at her hips, waiting to do more damage. Her hands were fine and ready to administer an incredible beating, and Anna knew she was Alia's target.
Anna remembered the video she watched of Alia's destruction of the European fighter in her last bout, and remembered the sick feeling in her stomach when she watched that big blond pound Alia's pubic area over and over and not even faze her.
Anna finally rose, her massive breasts bouncing as she stood erect. She wasn't hurt, but she was stunned, and the referee had barely begun a count since Alia didn't go to a neutral corner (and because he remembered his pact with Alia … nothing stops this bout). Anna quickly circled away, and Alia – the excitement of her first two punches taking over her body – flew at her in pursuit.
That could have been a mistake, since her desires to pound Anna into submission temporarily negated her boxing skills, and her hands were low and her head not moving as she closed within range. Anna, almost in desperation, suddenly stepped close and threw a right uppercut, one that started at almost canvas level, split Alia's gloves and landed flush under her chin.
Those close to the ring heard two sounds when Anna connected with what would be her only significant punch of the fight – a WHHHHAAAAMMM as Alia's head flew back, followed by the rest of her body as she landed on her back near Anna's corner … and a SNNNNAAAAPPP as several bones in Anna's right hand, those fractured by the car door hours earlier, broke clean.
The ring had a surreal look, and the packed crowd was going nuts. Alia was dazed – she couldn't remember ever being hit so hard – but quickly recovered and rose to one knee. There she saw Anna, down on both knees and clutching her right glove to her ample cleavage, tears running down from both eyes and landing on her white gloves. Alia watched as Anna looked past her, to her corner, with a face streaked with pain and terror.
Alia realized what had happened – she didn't know the backstory of the car door, but she knew Anna had hurt her right hand and apparently it was bad – and one thought crossed her brain: This was going to be even easier than she thought. Despite coming off the canvas for the first time in her career, she had a malevolent smile on her face as she walked over to the still-down Anna.
"I know everything!," Alia screamed down at her. "What you tried to do to me … that's nothing compared to what I'm about to do to you, you fat cunt. You're going to suffer more than you ever have in your life."
Alia then bent closer to Anna's ear, and added in a loud whisper, " … and if I choose, that life may be coming to an end. I don't really care if you're still breathing when they take you out of here … it doesn't matter, because I'm going to do whatever I want with you."
At those last words, Alia raked her glove laces across Anna's face, opening a gash on her cheekbone, and walked to a neutral corner.
Anna was petrified, but she knew her only chance to avoid a slaughter was to get up and at least try to defend herself. She struggled to her feet and watched Alia's approach, hot breath almost like steam coming from Alia's nostrils.
Since Anna couldn't block punches with her broken right hand, she was a wide-open target for as many left hands as Alia wanted to throw. And she threw them in bunches, peppering Anna's face with jabs and occasionally going low and loading up a hook that pounded just below Anna's sagging boob. Alia was content to soften Anna up with her one-hand attack … she knew she had plenty of time.
"DING … DING … DING"
Alia almost jogged back to her corner, so high were her spirits and her energy level. Other than the one punch that she carelessly walked into, she hadn't been hit at all, and the last 60 seconds of pounding on Anna's face and body had done nothing but invigorate her even more. She now knew that Anna was basically fighting with one hand tied behind her back, and her only worries were a wild punch from Anna's left hand … and not getting trapped under Anna's weight when she went crashing to the canvas.
In the other corner, chaos reigned. Arlen and Eddie were both shouting, trying to tell Anna what to do, and all the yelling just confused her more. All she knew for certain was that she was in trouble.
"DING … DING … DING"
Anna was late getting off her stool for Round 2, still trying to piece together what had happened in the first round, but Alia had no such problem. Anna was no more than two steps from her own corner when Alia, wasting no time, delivered a straight right hand to Anna's face that hit like a ton of bricks. Anna's head and shoulders were snapped backwards, and her breasts seemed to float in mid-air until Alia followed with another left hook just above the belt that sunk deep into Anna's protruding gut.
With just those two punches, Anna was pushed back into her own corner, and Alia successfully pinned her there and began raining punches, with Anna's defense always a second too late. A straight right hand landed square on Anna's nose, flattening it and causing blood to spurt out both nostrils.
"Oh, gawwwwd, you broke my fucking nose," Anna wailed as she tried to grab Alia's arms and clinch in the corner. But Alia was having nothing to do with that, sending a quick left-right into Anna's gut when she raised her arms to clinch. The blows forced a deep "uuuunnnnhhhh" and robbed Anna of all her air, and she began to gasp and try to get oxygen back into her lungs.
When she opened her mouth to gulp in air, Alia hit her with a bone-crushing uppercut to the jaw and punches to both sides of Anna's face. The weighted gloves were having their desired effect as each punch dislodged a tooth and sent it flying across the ring, landing with a bloody splat on the canvas.
Anna could not believe the power and speed of Alia's punches. She was receiving a terrible beating from a slip of a girl, one she outweighed by 70 pounds, but those punches felt like someone was hitting her with a barbell. She was trying to fight back, but her right hand was useless and her left kept missing its mark, and every time she would miss she paid a huge price as Alia's quick counterpunches left her dazed and dizzy.
Alia was a silent assassin, never changing her expression as she got off first on each exchange, leaning in to hammer home straight lefts and leaning back to clip across with a right hook with her heavy-weight gloves. Her black gloves were already sticky with Anna's blood, and the weighted gloves were raising huge bruises and welts across Anna's face. This is the round to mess up her face, Alia thought … the body will come later.
Alia was using one hand to swat away Anna's attempts to guard her rapidly-swelling face, and her other hand pounded unimpeded and rapid-fire into Anna's eye sockets, nose and mouth. Her eyes were already swelling and would soon be shut, and her nose continued to gush blood that ran down through her ample cleavage and soaked her top, turning the pink into a dark crimson.
"DING … DING … DING"
Alia shoved Anna's chest at the bell, pushing her back into her own corner, and stood at mid-ring and watched her flop down exhausted on her stool. The combination of her absurdly fast hands and the illegal glove weights had already done enough damage to end most fights, and Alia looked on with delight as Anna's corner frantically tried to stop the bleeding. The blood began pooling on top of her breasts, and Alia decided as she walked back to her corner that she'd clean that off once the third round began.
Alia felt a huge surge of energy from seeing Anna's sorry condition, and also began surging elsewhere as that familiar wet feeling began in her crotch – the feeling she always got when she began dominating an opponent. This time was different, though … this felt like someone lit a cannon fuse and it was about to explode. It was an itch that she badly needed to scratch, and she began sliding back and forth on her stool, stroking her clit and stoking the heat that was now radiating from her.
"DING … DING … DING"
This time it was Alia that stayed on her stool a couple of seconds after the bell for Round 3, continuing her stool massage until her trainer pushed her toward the ring. She smiled, took her fighting stance and headed out for another round of abuse.
Anna was already standing and was still in a boxer's stance, but it was wooden and she almost crumpled when Alia landed a big hook to her left ribs. A follow-up left-right combination that boxed both of Anna's ears brought her hands back up, opening her entire body to the destructive force of Alia's enhanced blows.
Alia pushed Anna's big body back against the ropes, and looked like a fighting engine as her punches pistoned into Anna's gut. Her punches would have been more than enough to incapacitate a boxer with even strong, tight abs, but with Anna's soft paunch they tore deep into her rib cavity over and over, and huge bruises and welts began appearing across her body – showing that Alia was starting to do internal damage.
Anna tried to go to the canvas to avoid more punishment, but Alia caught her on the way down and hung her flabby arms over the ropes to keep her upright. She then began plowing her gloves and forearms against Anna' heaving breasts, punching them back and forth as Anna screamed in pain.
Alia continued to cycle between Anna's tits, which were rapidly swelling past their normal gargantuan size, and Alia's back and shoulder muscles stood out and hardened up and her finely-tuned buns began vibrating with the effort of swinging her arms against Anna's milk sacs.
Alia could have punched anywhere and done damage, but she was completely satisfied with humbling and dominating Anna's rack. Besides, the effects of watching Anna's breasts bounce around added to her own excitement.
Quickly, Alia ripped her glove laces down the middle of Anna's cleavage, slicing her now blood-drenched top in two and exposing her bruised and battered breasts to the assembled crowd. With the thin boob cover now out of the way, Alia continued to ransack her jugs badly, working them worse than she'd ever abused another woman's rack before, taking a break only to lace Anna's cleavage once again and rip open a huge cut midway between her breasts.
Anna's puffed-up boobs jumped and bounced around, flattening on impact and rebounding back like water-filled balloons, as Alia continued an unprecedented breast mauling. The pounding was so severe that Anna's tits began leaking hot milk, and the white cream mixed with the flowing blood and cascaded down Anna's fatty stomach and under the waistband of her rapidly-discoloring trunks.
By this time Anna was whimpering badly, but Alia paid no attention and proceeded to use both hands at once to punch each side of one of Anna's breasts. Milk spurted out from the two-handed punch/squeeze and hit Alia's face and chest, soaking her top before she turned an identical attack on Anna's other breast. More milky fluid streamed out, and Alia stopped punching and sucked the milk off Anna's battered orbs until the bell ended the third round.
Alia waved her arms in the air and almost danced back to her corner, excited at the thought of having nine more rounds to use Anna as she liked. Before she sat on her stool – the thought of the abuse she heaped on Anna's chest in the last round fresh in her mind – she deftly hooked the thumbs of her gloves under her sports bra and ripped it over her head in one motion, equaling up the now-topless affair and drawing another roar from the crowd. As she sat on her stool, her trainer toweled her off, and realizing her excitement he spent extra time rubbing every drop of sweat off her lovely orbs until her nipples stood out like gun barrels. Alia moaned with delight, and her trainer increased the pace and pressure with his towel, squeezing her breasts and pinching her erect nipples until Alia shuddered with an orgasmic eruption.
Ooooohhhh, nine more rounds … the thought made her white-hot.
Anna's corner had similar thoughts, but theirs were focused on survival for nine more rounds. It was now apparent that Alia had outwitted and outfoxed them, set them up for a fall, and the only way that this bout wasn't going the distance was if Anna stopped breathing. That was becoming a real possibility, with the blood loss that Anna already had and the damage that Alia's fists had already done through just three rounds.
"DING … DING … DING"
At the bell for Round 4, Alia jogged a quick lap around the ring and played to the crowd, showing that she was still fresh, showing that she was still dominant … and showing off how great her body looked in comparison to the flesh bag that could barely move out of her own corner. After one last turn, gloves in the air and chest bouncing, she again moved in to inflict more pain.
Anna could barely see, both eyes now blackened and nearly closed, and the rest of her pudgy face was beaten into a grotesque smudge of swollen flesh. The earlier slices in her facial skin were covered in clotted blood, and Alia quickly opened up two more gashes with swinging lefts and rights that ripped through Anna's eyebrows and caused a cascade of blood to flow down into the slits that used to contain eyes.
Alia had long since broken Anna's fighting spirit, and now she wanted to show off. As Anna lolled against the ropes, legs spread widely apart and keeping her upright, Alia displayed her footwork as she danced around her thoroughly-beaten foe, and showed her hand speed by ripping dozens of quick punches low into Anna's belly, her hands and her black gloves moving so fast they became a blur. Anna's fat appeared to part with every shot as Alia's gloves tore deep into her lower abdomen … and then steadily began to go lower.
Eventually, every punch Alia threw was well below the "Everlast" elastic line, as she began pounding Anna's pubic area with a fierceness that shocked the crowd. Over and over her weighted gloves pummeled the pink satin, and within moments both fighters' trunks were soaked all over again – Alia's with pussy juice from her ever-growing excitement, and Anna's with Arlen's cum that her devastated vagina muscles could no longer hold in.
As she smelled the cum beginning to drip from Anna's mound, Alia kneeled and jerked down Anna's bloody and soaked trunks, ripping them off and waving them to the crowd while the bell sounded to end the fourth round.
The now-nude Anna crawled back to her corner while Alia continued her newest show of dominance, twirling Anna's trunks above her head, and as she sashayed back to her corner her eye caught Dan now sitting at ringside. He had a big smile on his face … no need any more to hide his feelings from Arlen and Eddie … and indeed Alia. She grinned back at him for just a moment and tossed Anna's sloppy trunks to him … giving him the symbol of power over his former employers for at least a few seconds.
Anna could not sit on her stool, instead only resting her sore abdomen and crotch on it spread-eagled. As she vomited outside the ropes, her prominent and pudgy ass pointed back across the ring toward Alia's corner, and Alia's heat level shot up once again. She had another surprise for the trio in the other corner … Alia had made arrangements for Dan to sneak her dildo into the arena – the 18-inch black one she'd used with such effectiveness on Arlen one day earlier – and she figured to put it to use later in the bout. But seeing Anna's ass cocked up in the air brought the idea to mind, and Alia thought how nice it would be to stick that cock up Anna's ass just as she had with Arlen, ramming it in like a piston, reaching around to ravage Anna's clit just as she had Arlen's big cock … and the thoughts drove her wild once again.
Alia's trunks were now almost as soaked as Anna's – only the fluids were different – and she quickly stripped them off just as the bell for Round 5 sounded. Anna somehow got back to her feet, the ache in her stomach at least temporarily lessened by her retching, and was able to take a couple of halting steps toward mid-ring.
The graphic scene of the two naked fighters, wearing only gloves and boots, one still a picture of health, power and sex appeal and the other a disfigured mess, was enough to stir the loins of many of the female celebrities in attendance. Camera shots showed several stroking their own hot pussies or reaching into their male companion's laps and past their zippers, hand-jobbing them to a rapid erection – and many were doing both. The temperature level in the arena was becoming increasingly hotter, and it had nothing to do with the hotel's heating system.
Alia decided it was time for more body abuse, and she began launching gorgeous, digging hooks just below Anna's rib cage – the kind of punishing blows normally only seen in a gym when a fighter is pounding on a heavy bag. At this point, that was almost all that Anna was … a meat bag suitable only as a target for Alia's horrifying fists. The punches ripped into Anna's waist, making her fat folds tremble, and eventually Alia was almost leaning into Anna as she sent punishing right hands – each traveling only a few inches – deep into her paunch and making Anna's body quiver like a rock falling into a bucket of water.
The club fighters call it "stacking and packing" … the process of getting under another fighter's arms and boosting him upward ("stacking"), and using the space created to work the body over ("packing"). That's what Alia was doing, except that in this instance she was getting no resistance from the jelly blob that used to be Anna's body.
Alia hit Anna's stomach at least 100 times before the bell sounded to end Round 5, Anna's arms limp at her sides and useless, and the heavy gloves were doing severe damage to the internal organs. Large red splotches were blood was pooling under Anna's skin were starting to show, and a trail of blood followed Anna as she limped back to her corner.
Alia's arms were starting to tire from the heavy beating she was inflicting, and from the added weight of the gloves, but her trainer gave her a quick shoulder massage between rounds and revived her energy, and she was up and bouncing on the balls of her feet at the sixth-round bell.
Anna staggered back out and was quickly met by two devastating hooks to each of her sides. Her already bruised and bleeding kidneys failed, and piss poured out of her snatch as she fell to a sitting position … the pool of urine puddling under her on the canvas.
Alia stood and watched as Anna continued to piss herself, and when the last yellow drops leaked out Alia moved closer, stepped behind Anna and straddled her grotesquely bruised head, and unloaded her own flood of pee all over Anna's face, nose and mouth. She was amazed at how much urine flooded out of her, and Anna sputtered and coughed as the salty solution worked its way down her nostrils and throat.
Alia finally finished, but she never moved as her thighs clamped down on Anna's head. She bent over so that Anna could hear her over the crowd noise.
"We're halfway through … having fun so far?," Alia said. "I sure am. And we've still got six more rounds to go. What do you think we should do next? …. Come on, answer me … ANSWER ME! … SAY SOMETHING! … SAY SOMETHING OR I'LL KILL YOU RIGHT NOW!"
Anna mumbled something that sounded like "sorrrrrryyyyy, so sorrrrryyyy," but Alia wasn't paying attention. Instead, she had shot her gloves toward the ceiling in a classic victory pose, inciting the crowd even more, and she stayed that way – squeezing Anna's head and abusing her ears with her strong thighs while she smiled and gestured to the fans – until the bell ended Round 6.
She released the death hold of her thighs and walked to her corner, as Anna's handlers dragged their semi-conscious fighter back to her side. Alia watched her helpless victim pulled back onto her stool, and thought about the answer to her own question. What would she do next? The thought made her hot all over again.
Alia was still quivering with excitement, and almost jumped off her stool at the "DING … DING … DING" sounded for Round 7. She sprinted across the ring before Anna's handlers could even remove her stool.
"Leave it!" she yelled at them, and they backed off, leaving Anna slumped on her stool, only the corner ropes holding her upright. Alia began boxing Anna's ears – one of the few areas she hadn't already destroyed – with lefts and rights to each side of her head, until the earlobes were swollen to the size of golf balls and the ear cartilage was bent and broken. Blood poured out of each ear.
"Can you still hear me?," Alia screamed. "If you can, feel this," as she forcefully rammed her chest into Anna's face. She bounced Anna off the turnbuckle a couple of times, and then started shaking her breasts back and forth, using them to slap Anna's deformed face. She was boxing her with her boobs alone and her boobs were winning the fight as Alia continued to pile on the humiliation.
Alia then put her boots up on the bottom rope, which put her red-hot clit at Anna's eye-level, and the heat erupting from her pussy made the clotted blood on Anna's face liquefy and run down her cheeks and neck. Alia began rubbing her bush against Anna's mouth and nose, pushing harder and harder until Anna's head was pressed hard against the turnbuckle.
"Lick it, you whore," Alia demanded.
Anna was actually slightly revived by the combination of smelling and tasting Alia's juices, and put her tongue to work in an effort to please her tormentress – something that might lessen the beatings. Obviously, she didn't know what made Alia tick, since the more Anna's tongue probed, the hotter Alia got and the more she wanted to dominate and humiliate.
Anna's flicking tongue was arousing Alia once again, and she suddenly spilled out a large volume of lovers' cum. She'd been saving that, holding onto that with her incredibly talented vaginal muscles, ever since her lockup with Dan five nights earlier.
The milky liquid spilled across Anna's face like a sheet, covering her with the sticky goo, but Alia wasn't finished.
"Lick it out," she said. "If it's not completely licked out, there will be hell to pay."
Anna did what she was told, reflex gagging every time Alia would use the ropes to bounce her hot box in and out against Anna's tongue.
"DING … DING … DING," the bell sounded to end the seventh round.
"What a shame," Alia said, "and you were just getting warmed up. See you in 60 seconds," she added as she jumped down from the ropes and headed back to her corner.
The pussy face-wash actually gave Anna some energy, and after her corner crew wiped her down Anna was actually able to stand and take a boxing stance at the bell for the eighth round. Alia saw this, and decided it was time to let her fists get in on the fun once again.
Anna even gave a half-hearted attempt to punch at the start of the round, but Alia easily batted Anna's white gloves to the side and proceeded to land even more telling blows than her earlier beatings. The "activities" of the other rounds had allowed Alia's arms and hands to regain their full strength, and her weighted gloves left imprints on Anna's face.
One hammering right pounded straight into Anna's mouth, a savage punch that tore a gash in her upper lip where a tooth poked through. A left hook dislodged three more teeth, and their bloody roots fell and stuck to the top of Anna's discolored tits in a grotesque pool of blood.
Alia stepped back and wound up for one of her signature uppercuts, but instead of crashing her right hand under Anna's ribcage, this one soared up and bounced forcefully off Anna's jaw line. A loud CRRRRAAAKKK was audible at ringside as Anna's jaw was broken, with the swelling starting in seconds and leaving the bottom of her face an ugly, disfigured mess as she crumpled to the canvas.
Before anyone could step in to stop the action, Alia pulled Anna from the floor and wrapped her left arm around her neck in a headlock. She started using her free right arm as a piston, raining right hands from close range into Anna's face and rapidly turning what skin remained into something resembling hamburger meat. Blood again poured like a faucet from Anna's nose and her already-swollen lips cracked in several places, sending little rivers of blood down her now-numb jaw.
Anna lolled against the ropes, and Alia moved her abuse down to Anna's sagging breasts, which were already grotesquely discolored from the bruises and the mixed layer of dried milk and blood. Alia knelt on one knee and began using Anna's mammaries as her own private speed bags, using the overhand chops that are a staple of boxers' gym workouts – except this time the targets were flesh instead of leather.
Moving back and forth with deadly precision, Alia's rapid-fire chopping blows beat a steady "WHAP-WHAP-WHAP-WHAP-WHAP" on Anna's tits which, despite the abuse, were still rock-hard at the nipples. With every chopping blow, more milky secretions would be squeezed out and ran down to Anna's abused abdomen.
Finally, the chopping action was too much, and the skin at the top of Anna's breast line ripped open, sending fresh blood flowing down and covering her tits and Alia's gloves. As Anna stood against the ropes, the bell sounded to end round eight, and she looked like the victim of a bizarre crucifixion with her earlier cut down her cleavage and the two cuts atop the breasts.
Anna's handlers quickly led Anna to her corner, and began using handfuls of Vaseline and tape to try to stem the blood flow. Alia watched the scene in the other corner – she had long since disdained sitting down, such was her adrenaline rush and her arousal level – and thought to herself that she would soon show them a much better use for the Vaseline.
"DING … DING … DING"
The bell for round nine saw Alia almost sprint across the ring to continue her abuse, while it took all of Anna's corner crew to lift her up and prop her against her corner. Her arms hung limply over the ropes, the only thing holding her upright, and Alia began hitting her wide-open body with horrific body punches. The already-red areas, places where blood was pooling under the skin from extensive injuries to her internal organs, provided Alia with targets for uppercuts and straight punches that appeared to go completely through Anna's jelly paunch.
After what were probably 30 straight punches to that gut, Alia turned her gloves and raked the laces across Anna's abdomen, ripping the skin open and unleashing a wave of dark and coagulating blood that ran down through Anna's crotch and legs.
That rip also pushed Anna down to where she was seated on the bottom rope, dangling like a giant bloody spider in the ropes' webs, and Alia turned around and planted her tight and toned ass directly on Anna's nose and mouth.
"Lick it CLEAN," Alia screamed, "or we'll spill the rest of your blood right here!"
Anna's muscle memory took over, and she proceeded to tongue and chew Alia's anus for all she was worth – which wasn't much, considering her semi-conscious state. Alia moaned for a while as Anna's tongue tickled its way up her ass cavity, but Alia eventually realized that Anna's efforts weren't going to get her off – even with her own gloved thumb caressing her pussy at the same time – and turned with an angry look on her face.
"Not good enough!," she yelled, and ripped a right hand across Anna's cheek. This time, though, she kept the punch going past that point, and pounded her elbow into Anna's left eye socket. She repeated the punch from the left side, again with the elbow crashing into Anna's face.
The two shots disloged more teeth, and the second caused Anna to bite off the tip of her tongue with the few teeth she had remaining. Even more in a daze, Anna slipped to one side, still hanging on the ropes, and Alia began pounding punches to her kidney area just like she was working on her gym's heavy bag. The side of Anna's body began caving in, and a wet stream of poop began pouring out of Anna's ass and puddling up in her corner just as the bell ending round nine sounded.
Three more rounds, Alia thought as she walked back to her corner, almost swinging her hips and playing to the crowd … three more glorious rounds … and she planned to make them memorable.
Meanwhile, Anna's corner crew resorted to desperation to keep their fighter upright. Arlen quickly stepped into the ring, helped hang Anna on the ropes again in her own corner, and pulled out his monster cock – he had been carrying an incredible hard-on since the very first round. He thrust himself into Anna's now-sopping and blood-caked pussy, trying to bring her around and back to some level of consciousness, and started beating her bush with his own thrusts. The bouncing of the ropes added even more motion, and Anna's entire body began moving rhythmically up and down.
That rope bouncing caught the attention of Alia's entire corner as they watched the spectacle. Alia smiled, and said, "You want cock … I'll show you cock." She motioned to Dan at ringside, put her gloves near her hips and made a circular motion around her body. Dan knew instantly what she was after … they'd worked that part out in advance .. and Dan headed back to the locker room.
When the 10th round bell finally rang – it was late, as the timekeeper was watching the screwing in Anna's corner and lost track of time – Arlen was reaching a climax and Anna's eyes were open. Alia stepped in behind Arlen, pressed her own pussy against Arlen's ass, and began matching Arlen's thrusts. Soon, Alia was the one doing all the work, as her crotch continued to pound Arlen and force him into continuing his "in and out" action with Anna.
Arlen's sandwich between the two females quickly made him orgasm again, shooting one final load of cum into Anna's pussy, but Alia continued with her thrusts and had her gloves close by. "I'll beat your brains in if you stop," Alia threatened Arlen, and Arlen tried his best to keep the action going.
Arlen's manhood began to fail him, though, and Alia quickly jerked his arm around and pushed him down to a sitting position on top of Anna, who had slipped off the ropes and was again seated on her stool. Alia began boxing Arlen's cock, bouncing it back and forth between her lefts and rights and causing his milky cum to fly into the air with each punch. Some landed on Alia's tits, and she stopped her pummeling long enough to use a glove to raise her own breast, allowing her to lick the cum off, and she smiled as Arlen crawled out of the ring and left Anna seated and comatose again.
Alia was jabbing at Anna's back-open eyes with the thumbs of her gloves, bringing Anna a whole new wave of pain, when the tenth round ended.
When she got back to her corner, Dan had a canvas bag slung over his shoulder, and he unzipped it when Alia turned to him and nodded. He pulled out her big black dildo – the same one she'd used on Arlen –, put the belt around Alia's waist and strapped it on tightly. The full 18 inches hung to the bottom of Alia's knees, and brought a gasp from the crowd.
Dan then applied Vaseline heavily to Alia's strap-on cock and began to stroke the massive black rod, and Alia leaned against her corner and watched Dan's hand move up and down the shaft. She could swear that she could actually feel the pleasure of Dan's stroking, and now understood even more the pleasure that males got when she was the one giving hand jobs. Her eyes flicked and her body shivered, and just before the bell for Round 11 she looked down and saw a huge wet spot in the crotch of Dan's pants.
Alia's trainer had been standing in the sight line between the two corners, and didn't move until the Round 11 bell rang. When he stepped out of the way and slid through the ropes, Anna's corner – and Anna herself – got their first look at the newly-endowed Alia – sporting a foot and a half of thick, well-greased black meat. Alia's tool made even Arlen's impressive member look like a piece of macaroni, and Alia did her best to accentuate its swinging from side to side as she walked across the ring to begin the next-to-last round.
As her corner crew looked on in horror, Alia hit Anna in the face one time and in her gut one time, enough to make her bend over at the waist. Alia grabbed Anna's hair and dragged her to the middle of the ring, where Anna knelt on all fours, her hefty ass cocked up and pointing toward the ceiling.
Alia quickly moved behind Anna's ass and began the slow, rhythmic process of inserting the dildo up her anus with a series of light thrusts. Gradually those thrusts became deeper and more intense as all 18 inches slowly slid inside and brought howls and screams of pain from a suddenly-awake Anna.
"Ooooo, you like this, don't you," Alia yelled. "You like it up the ass. Well, you've never had it up the ass like this before."
Alia quickly increased the tempo of her thrusts until her crotch was banging directly against Anna's ass, causing the entire ring to shiver as she pounded to the fullest possible depth. Anna began vomiting from the pain, spewing a stream of bile and blood as her injured internal organs were defiled again and again by the black monster that Alia carried between her rippling thighs. Blood continued to pour out of Anna's anus as the tissues in her ass tore loose.
The anal fucking went on for several minutes as the timekeeper – who was busy jacking himself off – missed the end of the round, and eventually one of Anna's handlers ran over and rang the bell to end the 11th round.
Anna's handlers dragged her back to her corner on her belly, while Alia stood for several seconds at mid-ring, her attached meat still hanging and many of her own pussy juices now running down that shaft … such was her excitement. Eventually, she walked back to her corner, and Dan bent over the ropes to remove the black weapon.
"Leave it for a minute," she said calmly. "It feels tooooooo good…"
Instead, Alia's trainer wiped down her body in preparation for the final round and applied a light coat of Vaseline to her cheeks, tits and ass while Dan fixed her hair. After all, it was the last round, and she wanted to look good for the cameras as she finished her devastation.
At the bell for Round 12, Alia walked across the ring, grabbed Anna's feet as she sat on her stool, and dragged her on her now incredibly-tender and ripped-open ass to mid-ring. She spread Anna's legs, bent over her and began inserting the monster cock into Anna's pussy, slowly working the full shaft inside, and started beating an in-and-out rhythm as her face hovered only inches from the hamburger that was once Anna's pudgy but lovely face.
"You really had no idea how bad I would fuck you up, did you," Alia said to Anna's non-responsive face. "You fat, useless whore … I only wish we could go about 50 more rounds, because I'd like nothing better than to finish you off right here so they could bury what's left of you. If you survive, you'll remember this for the rest of your life, and you'll wake up scared every night just with the thought of me."
Even Anna's pounded and distorted pussy was not equipped to handle Alia's equipment, and Alia raped her cruelly for almost a minute and a half – fully half of the final round – before forcefully pulling the dildo out. Anna rolled to her side, and the rest of Arlen's cum mixed with Anna's blood and poured out of her now-useless snatch, pooling on the canvas.
Alia stood over her defeated foe, breathing heavily less from her exertion – she hadn't had to work really hard for this, she thought – and more from her own excitement. She ripped off the dildo, kicked Anna back to her back and straddled her, covering up her face with her own throbbing pussy, and looked down at Anna's beaten body. Alia started punching straight down on Anna's arms, crushing them into the canvas with the leverage she had from her sitting position, and after a few punches she heard the audible "CRACK" of Anna's arm bones shattering. She proceeded to do the same to the other arm, rendering it also useless even if Anna had been conscious enough to defend against the crushing punches. Likewise, Anna could not howl in pain even if she had still been conscious, since her mouth was completely covered and muffled by Alia's wet and pulsing crotch.
Alia used both hands to ram the dildo back into Anna's cock and left it there, sticking out like a flagpole tht she had placed on land she had conquered. In a way, she certainly had.
Alia then turned around, continuing to face-sit the comatose Anna but now looking down at her hair poking from between Alia's legs. Anna's face was still buried, and Alia began one final show of dominance as she started bouncing up and down on Anna's face in a violent face-sit that went on until Alia settled in and completely covered Anna's nose and mouth. Up to that point, she had still been able to feel Anna's struggles to draw breath, but now her vaginal muscles closed like a suction cup, and Anna soon stopped breathing completely.
Alia struck a double-bicep pose and held it a few more seconds until the final bell. That's when she plucked the dildo from Anna's cock and stuck it down her throat, and paraded around the ring as medical personnel rushed to the aid of the terribly beaten fighter.
"Who's the real champ now," Alia said to reporters who stormed the ring, oblivious to the paramedics that were using a defibrillator to try to re-start Anna's heart. "Everyone was so in love with this … this fat thing here, and look at her now."
They looked at Anna being taken through the ropes on a stretcher. A minute or so later, ambulance sirens could be heard, getting her to a nearby hospital. By that time, Alia was gone, quickly out of the arena, quickly to her hotel and the very next day, gone to an unknown location.
As it turned out, she wouldn't reappear in public for a couple of months.

Alia was watching the sun set over the Tahitian beach, looking out from her hotel balcony and trying her best to relax – something that just wasn't in her makeup.
"Maybe a couple more of these mai tais will help," she said to the wind, as she picked up her glass and walked inside.
It was a week after her biggest fight ever, and after what the papers were alternately calling the most scandalous and the most erotic hour in the history of sport. She wasn't sore physically – after all, Anna only hit her with anything serious only one time – but she still needed some body-recovery time after all the strenuous training she put herself through prior to the match.
Mentally, she was in a great state. She was unquestionably the world's most dangerous woman wearing boxing gloves and one feared for her dominance, which made her famous while at the same time insuring that people left her alone – which was how she wanted it.
And after the beatings and humiliations she had wrecked upon her last two ring opponents, it was very likely that she wouldn't be challenged for a good while. No other fighter and no other would-be dominant wanted any part of her right now.
Some people at her getaway resort recognized her, but all kept their distance, and that's what she needed right now. Except for one person … and she was glad he was close by. Sure, she needed someone she could dominate when she needed that, but she also needed someone to keep her grounded when she needed it, someone to make her laugh when she needed it, and – a first for her – someone to hold her when she needed that.
Dan was good at all of those. When she got herself on the outside of those mai tais, she would also need someone she could suck limp, devour again, milk with her pussy muscles and render exhausted and helpless except to worship her … and he was good at that, too.
+++++
Sure, Anna made a ton of money for her cut of the fight gate. So did Eddie and Arlen, actually. But what good was money when you couldn't enjoy it?
Doctors said that Anna was lucky to have avoided brain damage. On top of all her injuries, which would take months to heal, there were periods during the fight that her brain was oxygen-deprived, and any of those stretches could have left her a vegetable. And Anna wasn't smart enough to be giving away any brain cells.
Hey, neither of those guys saw it coming, either, she thought to herself. They wasn't so smart themselves.
About all Anna could do right then was think. The rest of her was either stitched back together or gone entirely … her internal injuries required extensive transplants, she had to have eye surgery and she was going to be visiting a plastic surgeon on a regular basis for years to repair all the exterior damage. And without insurance, the medical bills were rapidly eating into her share of the fight proceeds.
Even blinking hurt. How in the world did I get myself into this, she thought, and then she remembered Eddie coming up to her back in Texas, making all those promises. What a son of a bitch, she thought before the drugs put her back to sleep.
+++++
Arlen was last seen performing in the Chippendale's review show on the Vegas strip. His body didn't match up to the other dancers, and he didn't have their moves, but when he got down to the G-string the women in the audiences always rushed the stage for a closer look. And Arlen got used to the tens and twenties they would push down next to his cock.
He also discovered he liked women ramming dildos up his ass, which made him very popular in several select Vegas circles.
+++++
Eddie quickly ran out of money. In addition to his over-the-top lifestyle, he had to pay to replace the ring at the MGM Grand … all of the blood, tit milk, cum, piss, poop and other bodily fluids had rendered the one used for the fight as totally useless.
He was last seen on the back roads of Texas again, chasing talent for his newest endeavor. He already had the catchy name … "WOW" – Worldwide Oil Wresting. It can't miss, he kept telling himself.
+++++
The terrible trio of Anna, Arlen and Eddie got what they deserved … and in a way, the same could be said of Dan. Sure, he'd been cut out of a share of the fight revenue by some slick contracts and bookkeeping on Eddie's part, but he didn't care. He had made a killing, in more ways than one.
That's why he felt confident enough to knock on Alia's hotel room door, only a couple of hours after the fight. She was there with her trainer, who was tending to what little physical maladies and discomforts she'd picked up in the bout, and the trainer smiled and left quickly when Dan walked in.
Before he lost his nerve – he'd been working up the courage to do this for an hour – he dropped two plane tickets to Tahiti on the coffee table in front of the couch where Alia was sitting.
"One is for you," he said.
Alia picked up the tickets and just looked at them for a minute.
"You know, I made a lot of money for this fight tonight," she finally said. "I can afford my own ticket. And I know you probably can't … I figure those assholes left you pretty much high and dry."
"Yeah, they did," Dan said. "But I can afford both of them, and a lot more … thanks to you."
Seems that Dan had rounded up all the money he could assemble, mortgaging everything he had and borrowing from friends, and put the whole wad in a bet (after all, this was Vegas). He bet against the house that Alia would not just win, but win every round, and that bet paid off hugely – Dan walked out of the casino's sports book with five times the money he'd put down.
"I was a little worried in the first round, when you were flat on your back," he said, making sure to smile and let Alia know he was joking.
"How does it feel to outsmart everyone?," she said, as she grabbed the rich man's arm and pulled him to the couch. "Get over here, you sexy man."
END