Female Boxing Federation

Ramonaa: Standing in the red corner at 162cm and 130lbs, I'd shadowbox in my white sports bra and red trunks. Representing my home country of Lebanon, I was here at the grand arena, taking on one of the best in our weight class. Excited, nervous and ready all at once, I'd have my mouth guard popped in by my coach. My hair tied in a ponytail braid for convenience and my vision fixated on you. "🔔 🔔!!!" A shove from my team mate and I was heading to the centre, my crimson red gloves pounding together, a long with my red trunks wafting my knees.

Ramonaa:

Valenzuela: I'm standing in my blue corner ready for action, black sports bra and colorful short trunks with a Mexican flag design, black 8 oz gloves. The ref has already given her instructions, so nothing keeping us apart except the bell. My 5 ft 3 in and 120 lb frame ready for action. I slap my gloves together as I bounce lightly on my feet, and then suddenly DING! I come out of my corner former an orthodox stance, left glove and foot leading, elbows tucked in, bouncing lightly on the balls of my feet, bobbing erratically from side to side.

Ramonaa: We'd both come out in the same stance. My right glove leading, as I was left handed. Your Mexican colours coming into view as we approach one another. Elbows tucked in before I tossed out a right jab, wanting to kiss your glove before circling, tucking my head low and assessing my options. 

Valenzuela: That right glove comes out hard and fast, punching into my left. It shows me your power, but I counter punch quick, with a right cross going towards your navel, dipping my knees as i send the punch out, and then smile as I rise back up, as i attempt to sweep a left hook towards your jaw line. I keep bouncing and bobbing as I punch my punches.

Ramonaa: I thought I was quick, but damn, your counters were fast too. I couldn't see it coming as your cross dipped low and thumped my navel, reverberating my midsection and forcing a soft groan from my lips.  Whilst you rose however, my right glove returned, blocking the incoming left hook for my jawline. Stepping in, I'd take this to infighting range with a tight left uppercut for your navel. 

Valenzuela: My cross lands, and I can feel the impact up and down my right arm, but you block my left hook nicely with your right glove, and then I gasp as a quick left uppercut lands into my navel, I tighten my abs to absorb some of the impact, and then step in closer, try launch my own left uppercut towards your lower rib cage, and then a fast moving right cross towards your nose, continuing to bob and weave...

Ramonaa: Sinking my crimson glove into your abs, they'd reject me soon enough as I felt your core flex to absorb the damage. With you stepping in now, it became awkward to defend my sides, seen as though we brushed up against each other.  Your glove would ripple the skin around my lower ribs and arch my body slightly. Wincing behind my gloves, I'd raise my guard to absorb the follow up cross, staying still as you weaved.

Valenzuela: Again I feel the power of my uppercut to your abs ripple up my left arm, but damn, you are very fast and have great reflexes, as your guard again foils a strike to your face. I keep dancing lightly on the balls of my feet, weaving low and then bobbing side to side, now working up a light sheen of sweat on my face and body. I feint a jab at your navel, and after checking the punch, swing my left upwards towards your chin, and then follow this with a right hook towards your ribs.

Ramonaa: I was definitely on the backfoot here and knew my corner would scold me for lack of movement. However, I was still assessing you. My breathing  slightly heavy and I'd work up a sweat, just by defending and anticipating. My elbows locked together, forming a concrete guard and I wouldn't bother defending downstairs, keeping my chin tucked against my inner wrists. Your jab ended up never coming and then that noir glove of yours would graze up the length of my gloves instead. Using this moment, I'd shoot out a right cross for your nose. Suffering a shot to the ribs, my body jolted but my trajectory remained unchanged.

Valenzuela: You're keeping those elbows tucked in tight, and that chin guarded by your wrists, so my left uppercut just slides up your forearms, and as I'm pulling back my left, a right cross spits out, hammering my nose and snapping my head back, all I see is flash of red leather, as the glove compresses over my nose. I now take a quick couple of steps back, to reset my guard, and blink my eyes a couple of times to clear my vision, and get my gloves back up to protect my reddened nose!

Ramonaa: My defence proved superior in this exchange, although it did cost me towards the end. The trade was worth it, feeling your face knock back from my leather. I just needed to keep this up. Stepping in, I'd pull my gloves together, attempting to press into yours. Two seconds of jostling, I'd then try to lower my left and pump two hooks, aiming just under your ribcage whilst keeping my forehead against yours if I could. "Ush! Ush!"

Valenzuela: I'm expecting you to move in closer, having made me pay for the last exchange, and you do. We are now infighting close, very up close and personal. Your left lowers, and two fast hooks come out into my ribs, as our foreheads press together, but I use my right forearm to block the hammer like punches from hitting my ribs, and then grunting, try to sweep a right hook over your left shoulder towards your jaw as I take a half step back from you.

Ramonaa: I'd feel a solid arm blocking my pair of strikes, rather than your toned side, leaving me annoyed and confused. You're pretty good on defence and that had me worried. Lost in my brief thoughts, you'd snap my head to the side! My facial features contorted as a burst of sweat shook off my head. I'd wobble slightly before re-composing and lifting my gloves.

Valenzuela: My right hook connects with the side of your face, sending a spray of sweat in all directions, and I have to smirk as I feel the impact go up my arm. I'm not gonna back down though, and I want to press my advantage and stay in tight and close for toe to toe action. As you bring your gloves up, I droop my left and dip at my knees to try to sweep a wicked shovel hook under your elbows, hoping to give your liver a wicked little pounding.

Ramonaa: I didn't expect you to back down after seeing me eat the finest Latina leather you had to offer. My gloves rose up and yours did the complete opposite. I knew you were aiming downstairs and I'd have to hide my vitals somehow without defending. Instead of giving you a free liver shot, I'd step in and allow our abs to kiss. My arms attempting to clinch around your neck as you thump my side heavily instead.  groaning as I initiated a clinch.

Valenzuela: A small surge of satisfaction ripples through me as I feel my glove hammer your side, though not exactly where I’d aimed. Your sudden step in catches me by surprise, mitigating much of the power in my punch, our torsos colliding as you clamp your arms around my neck in a tight clinch. I can feel your breath against me, your body pressing into mine, making it difficult to wiggle free and keep my offense going. My lungs strain as we’re locked in close quarters, and I instinctively try to sneak my right forearm under your chin, hoping to nudge you upward just enough to create some space. My left glove braces against your side, looking for an angle to shove you off or at least make the clinch uncomfortable. I grunt with the effort, trying to muscle my way into a position where I can unleash another punishing shot once we break.

Ramonaa: The sting against my ribs was damn well noticeable as I wrapped my arms around you. My laboured breathing just under your jawline as I looked to hold you in my embrace, freeing myself from any more shots. Your left glove held me just above my waist and I'd wince in response, feeling your efforts for a shove.  The referee would be wanting to inspect soon and with that in mind, I'd loosen up and shove your left shoulder back with my right glove. Hoping to create some space, I'd try to sneak in a tight left uppercut against your chin.

Valenzuela: Suddenly, I get a hard shove with your right glove into my shoulder, your greater weight advantage sends me back a step, and then suddenly a big left glove flies up fast. I can't block it, so I drop my chin to my chest and twist my face left, so that the big red gloved fist slams into my cheek instead of the more delicate chin, and spreads a flash of redness across my skin. I blink my eyes and take a couple of steps back, breathing hard and resetting my guard.

Ramonaa: I'd work my way into creating enough space for that uppercut, only to have it slam into your cheek than your chin. I couldn't complain. It was an unprotected strike. My breathing felt erratic afterwards and I'd bring my gloves to chest height, bobbing and weaving as I stepped closer.  flicking out a left jab towards your nose to keep you on edge.

Valenzuela: You're moving nicely, making confusing movements of your body, keeping me watching closely. A jab comes up, and my gloves are ready to block it, so I thin make my counter move, stepping forward a right overhand punch arching towards your temple, and follow this up by sending a left hook at your jaw, intending to bring the fight to you.

Ramonaa: As you make your counter, I'd retract my left glove and utilise my weaving skills. My frame leaned to my right diagonally, swerving past the overhand. I'd flick my eyes to the right and see your left hook incoming. At the last second, I'd cover my jaw with my crimson glove, still feeling a solid impact though.  my balance remained unchanged however as I stepped into point blank range. My left glove clenched by my gut before I extend it out wide for a pair of heavy hooks towards your side.

Valenzuela: My right misses your head completely as you tilt to the right, making my glove just tap the top of your left shoulder, and then that hook I send collides with your glove, that absorbs nearly all of the brutal impact of what I had intended for your head! I go a little off balance, as you come forward, in perfect harmony, and land a nasty left hook into my right side, the sound of the smack reverberating around the gym, and making me grunt, my face contorting from the blow to my ribs. The second hook gets blocked as I bring my right glove back, and then DING! DING! DING! The ref stepping between us to separate us and direct us back to our respective corners.

Ramonaa: My evasiveness proved too much for you in this situation and so did my defence, leading to a counter blow against your ribs. Unfortunately, I could only land one out of the two but with the bell ringing, I couldn't dwell on it for too long. Being shoved away, I'd turn to head to my corner, settling in the stool that was laid out for me. "Good round, Ram.." I'd hear these sorts of messages from my team as one replaced my mouthguard, the other gave me ice on my ribs and jaw. The last member offering a shoulder massage to keep me loose as I received advice from my coach. The whole time id have sweat wiped off me as I look over towards you.

Valenzuela: The bell rings, and I find myself stepping back, still feeling the sting in my ribs where your hook connected. I can’t resist one last glare as the ref parts us, a subtle sign of respect mixed with lingering adrenaline. Breathing heavily, I roll my shoulders and walk to my corner. My coach is quick to drape a towel over my shoulders and splash some cool water down my neck - an oddly soothing contrast to the heat radiating from my bruised side. My head’s still buzzing from our exchange, and my temples throb to the rhythm of my pulse. I hear the muffled hum of the crowd and the corner advice blending together - “Tighten up your guard… watch that left hook…” - but I keep my eyes locked on you across the ring, measuring how much you’ve got left in the tank.

Ramonaa: I'd display heavy breathing through my chest movement. The pain from the hook to the jaw really lingered once my teammate removed the ice, revealing a large red mark. Not only there but my right side ribcage too. "She's technical so you need to catch her by surprise." I'd nod, receiving this last piece of advice before 🔔 🔔 🔔!! Slowly moving to my feet, id hear the shuffling of the stool leaving the ring before I headed towards the centre with my gloves at chin height. Overall, my stamina levels were around 78%

Valenzuela: I've taken some harder knocks than I expected in round 1, having underestimated my opponent, a bad habit that I've done more than....shall we say one? The bell sounds off, and oh boy, these breaks sure fly by. I bounce on the balls of my feet and come out sharply, forming an orthodox stance again. I want to bring the fight to you and go all out for a round 2 KO, so I feint a jab at you nose, then weave low, and try to sweep a right uppercut between your guard, trying to target your solar plexus, hoping I can knock the wind out of your sails!

Ramonaa: You were definitely a tough cookie to crack but I respected you and was prepared to dish out more hurt in Round 2. You had some enthusiasm in your step as you arrived at my location, rather quickly I must say. Raising my guard up, I'd wait for a connection, that never came and I'd realise I fell for a cheap feint. Lowering my guard, I was way too slow and felt your Mexican flagged glove BANG! into my solar plexus. My body folding over in response and I'd feel nauseous and winded all at once. My stamina cut by half and I'd lean in, attempting to hook my arms under your armpits and clinch up for a desperate recovery.

Valenzuela: My gloved covered knuckles sink deep into your solar plexus, and I can feel the unmistakable shudder as you fold over my fist, a rush of adrenaline surges through me. A grim satisfaction flickers across my face, though it’s cut short when your arms hook around my torso, your heavier body pressing into me. You’re obviously hurting, but still resourceful enough to clinch up and stall my offense. Gritting my teeth, I plant my feet wide, trying to maintain balance while you cling on. I give a little twist with my body, attempting to peel you off. My breath is coming a little quicker than before, the burn of our first-round exchange still alive in my ribs. still got some fight left in you, I see,” I hiss through my mouthpiece, more to psych you out than anything else.

Ramonaa: My head was nice and safe in your neck and we'd trade sweat as I pushed my frame deep against yours. The effects of that uppercut still making itself known as my vision remained blurry for a few more seconds. My midsection flaring in pain too. I could feel your trying to pry me off and I'd only tighten my hold, knowing if I let go, you could finish me. For now, I'd press my left leg between your two and attempt to lean forward and walk you to the nearest ropes. " of course, hun..." I respond, hoping for more recovery time to mount a comeback.

Valenzuela: The ref watches closely but sees we are struggling and decides to allow the grappling to continue, as I feel your left leg slip between my legs, and as designed to do, throws me some what off balance as you press your body into my and walking me a few steps into the ropes, as our breasts push together tightly, your larger tits compressing around mine. As my back presses into the ropes, I try to bring my right glove out to the side in an attempt to drive a short hook towards your side.

Ramonaa: I'd thank the ref in my mind for not intervening as I worked my way towards putting you against the ropes. It didn't take too long to hear the tension of the ropes wail as your upper back pressed against the top. My tits playing a part in keeping you pinned, but not without a price.  My body would jolt in response from that short hook barreling into my ribs. A wince would be plastered across my face as I now placed my forehead against yours. Both of my arms lowering quickly as I looked to nestle my gloves between our abs. Taking it in turns, id quickfire those alternating pair of uppercuts against your liver and solar plexus, looking to return that level of pain if even a little. 

Valenzuela: A hiss escapes my lips when I feel your forehead press against mine, pinning me firmly to the ropes. A flash of pain surges through my torso as your gloves slip down and start hammering into my liver and solar plexus.  My stomach muscles tighten reflexively, and I twist my hips to try and shield myself, but you’re unloading those shots too fast. Each blow rattles my core, turning my breaths into ragged gasps. I grit my teeth, face contorting as I try to muscle my way off the ropes. My body’s instinct is to curl inward from the onslaught, but that’ll only make me a bigger target. Summoning whatever composure I can muster, I attempt to bring my left arm across your gloves to smother at least the next uppercuts. With my right glove, I brace against your shoulder, desperate to shove you off—anything to give myself enough room to breathe.

Ramonaa: I'd managed to return what was owed as my crimson leather thumped into two vital areas with speed and power. Now recovered from my own heavy blow, I looked to pile on more pressure. Your arm lay across my gloves and I didn't want to uppercut you again just yet, so this was perfect. Your right glove busy on my shoulder so I extended my left glove out and take half a step back, swinging a tight hook for your jawline.

Valenzuela: The moment your pressure eases slightly, I sense it - a chance to fight back. But before I can capitalize, your left glove arcs toward my jawline like a crimson blur.  My head snaps to the side as your hook connects, sending a sharp jolt through my skull. Spit flies from my mouth and I bite down on my gum shield. My vision momentarily swims, and I stagger sideways, the ropes groaning under my weight as they catch me. Things are getting rough! Gritting my teeth, I try to shake off the daze, my breath coming in ragged gasps. My legs wobble but don’t buckle as I instinctively bring my gloves back to protect my face. I bite down on my mouthpiece, my pride refusing to let me crumble. With my back still against the ropes, I plant my feet and let out a guttural growl. I throw a desperate straight right aimed squarely at your nose, hoping to catch you off guard and force you to back off!!!.

Ramonaa: After my hook, I'd see you sink deeper into the ropes, forgoing escape as you process the impact. Knowing that was the case, I raise my gloves up to my face and look to press more of my weight into you, draining you further. Before I could action my plan however, your glove shot out and bounced off my guard with a brief smack! Echoing the ring. I'd instead press in and try to drop my left glove, arcing a tight uppercut towards your chin, hoping you wouldn't have a full guard so quickly.

Valenzuela: The impact of my desperate straight punch meeting your guard instead of its target fuels both frustration and determination. The sharp crack echoes in the air, but I barely register it as I focus on regaining my footing. My arms feel like they’re moving through molasses, and I know I’m slowing down. Then, I see it, your left glove dropping. My instincts scream at me to react, but my body’s just a fraction behind. Your uppercut finds its mark, slamming into my chin and snapping my head back. My body jolts against the ropes, and I can feel my legs threaten to give way, but sheer willpower keeps me standing. My jaw aches, and I clench it through my mouthguard, tasting blood. I sag slightly against the ropes, my gloves rising again to cover my face as I desperately spring forward, trying to wrap my arm around yours hoping for a clinch to buy some recovery time.. My breaths come in ragged gasps, and I know I need to turn this around fast!

Ramonaa: I'd see your head snap back over the ropes, a long with that explosion of sweat. It looked like you'd be going down any minute now but to my surprise, you had enough in the tank to attempt a clinch! " Taking your bodyweight was the last thing I wanted to do and so, I place my gloves against your waist on both sides. My legs would attempt to pivot so I could walk you towards your own corner. Giving you my bodyweight, I lean my tits in and overpower yours, hoping this gives me enough leeway to pressure you.

Valenzuela: I manage to stop the beating you were giving me, but suddenly we are sliding down the ropes quickly, entering a new problem into the equation, my back suddenly pressing into the padding of the blue padded turnbuckle of my own corner. My head is swimming with some dizziness after that uppercut pounding, and now I feel like a trapped animal! I release my hold on you, and now try to fight back, realizing if I don't the ref might call me out with a TKO. As my gloves come up, I try to swing a short choppy right hook over your left shoulder, trying to pound the fuck out of your temple!

Ramonaa: I succeed in shuffling you to your own corner, without any intervention from the referee thus far. Only imagining how cold that leather padding was, I'd press you tightly against it. I made one crucial error though. It was you clinching me, not the other way round. At your discretion, you'd release and have the advantage, swinging a heavy right hook for my temple. The blow would stagger me on my right half and I'd wobble a bit more than before. A throbbing headache now taking over as I responded with a tight right hook for your jawline, knowing I couldn't take many of those...

Valenzuela: The sound of my hook smashing into your temple gives me a small, fleeting rush of hope. I see your body wobble, and for a moment, it feels like I’ve clawed my way out of the corner. But I don’t have time to enjoy this, your right hook retaliates like a freight train, crashing into my jawline with a sickening thud.  My head jerks violently to the side, and I feel my legs give a dangerous wobble, my back pressed even tighter into the turnbuckle. The fight has moved into a simple slug fest, who can take the most punishment. My jaw feels like it’s on fire, and stars dot my vision. Sweat sprays off my face in a mist, and I instinctively grab the top ropes with both gloves to steady myself for a few moments, almost praying for the bell to ring, sucking in huge and desperate breaths. Through the haze, I try to muster one more desperate offense, coming at you with a left and right straight punch towards the centre of your face, wanting to desperately box my way out of the this damned corner!

Ramonaa: With that headache came a slower reaction time. Thanks to that, I was just hoping you were too out of it to do anything else. This Mexican keeps surprising me however as you flicked out a dangerous left-right combo, both towards my centre and Both LANDING.  My head snapped back twice, sweating and now bleeding from the nose as I saw two of you. That wobble returning dangerously but I'd lean in and press my frame against yours. The idea was to keep you pinned whilst my vision restored, not clinching exactly.

Valenzuela: I feel a surge of adrenalin launch into my veins, but it is short lived, as even though both my punches hit hard, I get backed back into the corner with your heavier body, and then what I was hoping for happens.....DING! DING! DING!......that bell sounds.....I keep my gloves raised for the moment, never ever trusting my opponent until we separate.....

Ramonaa:  I couldn't tell which one of us was saved by the bell but I was glad to hear it. Two rounds down and my stamina diminished. I didn't bother to strike you and instead peeled myself from your frame and stumbled to my corner, carrying a headache and stomach pains...

Valenzuela: As the bell rings, the only good thing about being trapped in your own fucking corner, is all you have to do is plop your ass down on a stool when it is brought out! My breathing is heavy, each inhale feeling like fire in my chest. My arms feel like lead, my jaw throbs from your relentless hooks and uppercuts, and my legs are trembling from the punishment I’ve endured. “Tough round,” my coach mutters, wiping the sweat and blood from my face. Ice packs are pressed against my ribs and jaw as I try to steady my breathing, listening to snippets of advice through the ringing in my ears. “You need to get out of those corners faster,” one of them says. NO SHIT I think. “Stay sharp and don’t let her overpower you.” I nod faintly, but my eyes remain locked on you across the ring, studying your movements even as I recover.

Ramonaa: Settling down in my stool, I'd be exhausted and in alot of pain. "You'd eaten some good shots but look at her, Ram. You can finish her in the 3rd." Listening to that advice, I'd pump myself up, trying to create an adrenaline rush. Your gloves worked over my body and face noticeably but I wasn't going down without a fight. Whilst my team tended to me with ice packs, a cold towel and water, I'd have my gaze on you. 🔔 🔔!! it was time to get up and I did that niiiice and slowly, pulling up my weaker than normal guard as I head out to meet you.

Valenzuela: I'm now slower than what I was in round 1 and 2, but determine to kick ass as the bell rings. I come out of the blue corner ready to give a thumping and form an orthodox stance, bouncing a little, but more flat footed now. As I encounter you towards the centre of the ring, I send out out a quick left jab towards your forehead, hoping to pop it in over your guard.

Ramonaa: We'd meet for the third time now and on third occasion, you started off quick and put me on defence. The white glove of yours would float over mine and I'd feel the impact of that jab strain my neck muscles as my head bobbed back.  I couldn't let you have the advantage and stepped in, firing a left cross towards those lips.

Valenzuela: My jab hits your forehead, increasing my confidence that I can win this, and then you counter with a left cross at my lips, but my right glove is in place and I use this to easily stop the cross before my lips are smacked. I stay in the pocket, and try a sweeping right hook towards your jaw line, trying to go over your left shoulder.

Ramonaa: I'd smack my crimson leather straight into your glove, rather than chin. Leaving me totally exposed on the left side, your hook slammed into my jaw line. I was forced to look at a neutral corner whilst sweat flung off my face and you'd leave me severely dazed. I'd lean up against your frame, not knowing which way was up or down...

Valenzuela: My hook snapped in with quite a pop, and it daises you, looking glassy eyed. As you lean forward into my frame, I feel this is the moment that I've struggled for since the fight began, and fire off a quick left uppercut towards your chin, trying to just rip it between your guard, and then follow this with a right cross towards the centre of your face, not paying much attention to defense, just wanting to blast away with my gloved fists.

Ramonaa: My gloves against yours, acted as my last layer of defence. However, with how tired my arms were and thanks to this dazed feeling, one quick uppercut snuck through and jammed into my chin. My head jolted but that was enough to crumble my legs. A right cross then came up next to knock me unconscious. Your arm followed through on the blow and my red lips smeared saliva along that forearm until you pulled away. I'd remain looking at the neutral corner before leaning back and falling flat on the canvas. My eyes totally crossed, giving a look of drunken stupor.

Valenzuela: Standing over your fallen form, I take a moment to catch my breath, my chest heaving from the intensity of the exchange. My gloves lower slightly as I watch you collapse in stages, the uppercut snapping your head back, the cross sealing the deal. My right arm tingles from the force of the punch, smeared with the trail of saliva from your lips. Looking down at your limp body sprawled on the canvas, eyes crossed in a dazed, drunken stupor, I feel a wave of adrenaline-fueled triumph surge through me. “That’s it, Ramonaa,” I murmur. I raise my gloves high, stepping back to the neutral corner, letting the ref move in to confirm the knockout, a small smirk on my lips.

Ramonaa: I'd look up and see a plethora of ceiling lights, spinning above. Then your frame, with the Mexican flag. I see plenty of those along with many referee hands. All these factors piling down their weight whilst I try to get up. My arms were locked to the canvas and I couldn't understand why. Only my neck and upper body listened to my brain. Before I knew it, the ref waved an an "X" with her arm before flailing them to end the fight. 🔔 🔔 🔔 !!!! Hearing that, I'd stop resisting and lay flat... didn't take a genius to understand, I was knocked the fuck out.