Sometimes when you’re young and dumb you pick a fight with someone that’s bigger or stronger. Occasionally faster. Though rarely smarter than you. It happens, you’re on the playground feeling confident about yourself and then you decide. ‘Hey, that kid isn’t so tough. The one who has like ten pounds and three inches on you.’ Its a stupid move but hey you really want to impress a cute boy so you slap that ho right in the face. For about four seconds, you’re the shit because everyone heard and saw you punch above your weight class. For those four seconds the crowd goes “ooooooh” and then...inevitably… it turns to “eeeeeeww” as she knocks you on your ass so hard your head rings and your vision goes black around the edges. Not so cute now that she rang your bell and you can bet your hot lunch the cute boy is laughing at your dumb ass. What did you do that for anyway? You had to have known it wasn’t going to end well...now you’re probably wondering. Bitch. How does this relate to anything? Good point where was I? Oh thats right...losing. Badly.
The flashback ends
Jana’s tit smashed into my face. Pretty sure it was the left one but between the ringing in my ears and the fire in my scalp it honestly could have been either. Not like it really mattered as the other one snapped my face back around like a follow up bitch slap. I had heard that “eeew” before. It started like an “oooh” too just like the playground. I felt my hair being hauled up and sick lurching in the pit of my stomach as I tried to figure out what exactly was happening so that I could make some sort of counter attack. Jana was standing in front of me looking at the leering crowd of men and jeering women. They were so damn close, courtesy of Murphy's mildly authentic wooden fisticuffs ring. Some of the longer armed leches could reach out and cop a feel if you weren’t careful enough. The train of thought was interrupted by the sudden release of my hair. That seemed odd as Jana’s tactic of yanking me around by my hair and using her huge tits to batter my face and breasts had seemed to be working. At least as far as my reeling head could tell. Maybe I had missed something given how punch drunk I was. Boob bashed drunk? That didn’t have quite the same ring to it. Titty tilted. Nipple knocked? Boob blasted.
At the edge of my awareness the lively irish reel just barely managed to eek through the yelling and shouting from the patrons. Where in the world was Jana? I blinked and shook my head trying to focus my eyes better. A moment later the slap of bare feet on fine dirt made me realize maybe I didn’t want to see this.
Earlier
Jana sat on her ass hands splayed and tits knocked free of her white bando. My heart was pounding in my ears and the “oooh” from the crowd was still resounding around me. My mouth twisted into a smirk. Maybe the pubs champion titboxer wasn’t so tough after all. Mere moments into the fight I had blasted her from her feet. The force of my slam beneath her larger tits had bounced them free of the bandos we were wearing. From the waist down we were in skirts hitched to our knees. The hit had been massive and immediately overbalanced my larger opponent. Atleast, larger in the chest. With a full cup side on me in the same band I was punching above my weight. I could tell too since she had so little give from the hit.
“Just pull your thong off and stay down.” It was such a cocky ask especially after just the one good hit but I was really feeling it…
Present
...as my back slammed into the wood of the ring I yelled in pain and arched my back feeling my legs give out yet again. I slid down the wood of the square waist high ring in the center of the back room. It was made of polished oak, study as could be and quite smooth. As I hung there and stared at the roof I could feel the blackness encroaching on the edge of my vision. I knew that was a bad sign. I couldn’t pass out, no way, not with my thong on. I struggle against the wood willing my body to do something other than wriggle like a hooked fish. No dice. My abuser loomed over me pouting her lip. “Whats wrong Lana? Did that hurt?” She tilted her head and said the phrase in a mocking manner. I didn’t really care this was bad but atleast for now she was just showboating. Taking her well maintained nails she ran them along the top of my white bando. Somehow miraculously my big chest had remained confined behind the elastic fabric. It seemed that wasn’t long to be the case though. Running her nails along the edge Jana peeled it down until my chest spilled out. There was more yelling from the crowd as my breasts flopped free. Something about them seeming rather defeated. I could see the tops where Jana had smashed them with a drop of her own larger rack. They were turning red, which could only mean swelling and bruising in my future.
Finally I managed to get my right arm over the top of the ring and reach for my skirt. As I did Jana finally decided she was ready for some more punishment. As I fumbled with my skirt trying to hike it up and note fall, she pinned me into the corner and I felt my heart lurch. This was bad. With the advantage of weight, gravity, and by this point in the fight: less tenderness she began to grind my poor chest with her own. With slow rolling motions she crushed my breasts against my rib cage pushing them around and out of place with each twist of her torso. I scrabbled at my bare thigh hiking the skirt higher. Desperate. The torment continued as she let her weight rest on my chest and began to add bounces to the demolition of my tits. I heard a strange pathetic sound and realized that it was me moaning from the pain. I could feel how dry my mouth was. The fight couldn’t have go that long could it? I was exhausted, my head pounded, my tits ached awfully as they were brutalized by the champion. Finally my fingers found my pussy. Fumbling I managed to hook my fingers into the thin scrap of cloth over it and yank. It didn’t come with the first pull and I suffered further seconds of torture as a result. Finally it stretch over my hips and popped free. Falling around my ankles.
“She’s done! She’s done!” Jana suddenly released the hold stepping back as I crumpled tits first in the dirt of the ring.
“Damn it Jana at least roll her over.” I couldn’t tell if that was because they felt bad that my rack was being further crushed by my own body or because they wanted to see my tits. I didn’t really care. The foot on my side pushed me over and I caught a brief glimpse of the woman who had crushed my tits casually gathering her hair behind her shoulders before hoisting her bando back up as though this were a normal thing for her. I lay there on the dirt with my eyes closed. Really, everything hurt and I wasn’t sure if I was going to be able to move any time soon. I felt something tug at my ankles. Peeling my eyes open I watched as Jana relieved me of my thong from where I’d dropped it around my feet. The only way out of a titboxing match at Murphy’s was to have your thong removed or receive a twenty count tits up. The problem was any good titboxer could keep an unconscious or punch drunk opponent on the rails basically as long as they wanted and the twenty count on your back happened while your opponent was still pummeling your chest with hers. Suffice to say it was better to surrender when you had the chance and it was hard with the skirts.
What had I been thinking again. Jana dangled the thong above me as she walked by. “Thanks for the warm up. Come back when you have had some practice.” To my surprise she didn’t spit on my tits. The customary end to a one side titboxing match.
Huh. Interesting.
