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Maxine Williams vs Valenzuela in Topless Boxing Brawl in a Mexican Cantina: An Erotic & Brutal KOgasm!

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Starring

Maxine Williams

Valenzuela

Story of Week 11, 2025

<Valenzuela> El Club de Boxeo del Diablo is a legendary sports bar located just south of the U.S./Mexico border, famed for its gritty atmosphere, ice-cold cervezas, and fierce boxing competitions known as TOUGH GUY/GAL BOXING EVENTS. On fight nights, the place is electric, packed wall-to-wall mostly with passionate Mexican fans, although a handful of adventurous gringos regularly cross the border to witness the rough-and-tumble action. To increase the crowd size, it has been agreed that this will be a topless boxing match.

<Valenzuela> Tonight’s event promises to be extraordinary, drawing even larger crowds than usual. The bar owner has invited a special guest from north of the border—a fiery 19-year-old fighter named Maxine Williams. With an impressive record of 45 wins, 24 losses, Williams has quickly earned a fearsome reputation for her relentless, aggressive brawling style. Despite standing only 5 feet 3 inches tall and weighing in at a sturdy 147 pounds, she's known to punch well above her weight class and has fans buzzing with anticipation.

<Valenzuela> Stepping into the ring opposite Williams tonight is none other than myself—Carlotta "Carla" Consuela Valenzuela de Reyes, or simply "Val" to my loyal followers. I'm a hometown favorite and a seasoned brawler with a record standing at 20 wins, 21 losses. At 30 years old, I've seen plenty of action inside the ropes, and although I'm giving up 22 pounds against my younger opponent, I match her diminutive 5-foot-3 stature and share her fearless, aggressive approach. My grit and resilience have carried me through many tough battles here at the club, and tonight will be no different.

<Valenzuela> The matchup has the crowd—and the club's bookmakers—buzzing. While Maxine's youth, size advantage, and impressive record clearly position her as the favorite, the regulars here know better than to count out my hometown heart and veteran toughness. Odds have been posted as follows:

<Valenzuela> • Maxine "Mad Max" Williams: -250 (the clear favorite; bet $250 to win $100)

<Valenzuela> • Carlotta "Val" Valenzuela: +200 (the gritty underdog; bet $100 to win $200)

<Valenzuela> With bets flying in fast and the tension building by the second, the crowd roars to life as they get a look of me walking out towards the ring, wearing a blue silk robe

, and some black 8 oz boxing clubs, a serious expression on my face, as indeed boxing is a tough line of work. I slide through the multicoloured ropes

and drop my robe to reveal that I am only wearing some very tight fitting black shorts with yellow stripes on the sides, and black and white boxing shoes

. I slap my gloves together, ad give the crowd a taste of my boxing prowess as I punch a jab, right cross and left uppercut into the air, my 32B tits swinging with each punch.

<Maxine_Williams> Flying to México for a fight wasn't really on my checklist. But, in my first year of fighting, I've had to fly so damn much. I'm a New Yorker, and before I went pro, I never thought I'd be leavin' the state! But, now, here I am, in an entirely new place, fighting someone that's been on my docket for a good while now. Carlotta "Carla" Consuela Valenzuela de Reyes. I remember when she had first approached me! It was...exciting. I had defeated a mutual opponent of hers once. Sarah Davis. And now, I get to fight Val herself. Ain't that excitin'! I've got more fights under my belt, surprisingly. 20 more. But, that's mostly in boxing. You probably have the experience and wisdom advantage over me. 11 whole years of experience. But...I'm confident. I'm younger. Faster. Hell, probably stronger! I've spent the last two weeks in the nearest gym to my hotel. Or, nearest is relative. I kept it a good distance away, to make sure everytime I went, I'd have to bike my way to and from the gym. I'm at the absolute peak of my ability. All I've got to worry about is nerves.

<Maxine_Williams> The day of the fight comes, and my coach mentions that I'm not the underdog here. Actually...the bets are in favor of me. Talk about backstabbing, right? Fighting in your own homespace, yer the favorite, yet the money doesn't lie! I hum, and I step into the bar, slinking over to the locker rooms to get myself dressed. I give my coach a few reassuring looks, and I drop my clothes. First, my black handwrappings. Then, my armsleeves. Stockings. All black. My mouthguard, too. And then, my trunks. Modified for the fight. Tight as fuck, glossy forest green, with laaarge slits on the side. Exposing my inner thighs, and even my uncovered slit when the wind hits it right. And, it has a large black waistband, highlighting my sixpack, and the flare of my hips. I hum, and I step out with my green silk robe barely hiding anything. I give you a respectful nod before taking the blue corner. I give the nearest crowd a wink, and I tug at the string of my robe, dropping it. Exposing my muscles, and my pierced A-cups. The crowd explodes with excitement. I tighten my iconic green gloves, and I give you a look. Waiting for the ref.

<Valenzuela> I've watched a dozen—no, probably two dozen—videos of this chica's fights, but I still can't help a quiet gasp as I finally see you slip through the ropes in person. Damn. Your muscles are toned and defined, every fiber of your legs, arms, and torso standing out beneath your outfit. Now it's obvious why you've got twenty pounds on me. You carry yourself with confidence, moving fluidly like a true boxer. You nod at me courteously; I respond with a cocky smirk, trying to show I'm not impressed. I need to get into your head early, this isn't just sport, this is an actual fight, albeit with oversized gloves. Can you even picture soccer players stepping onto a field trying to knock each other out?

<Valenzuela> The ref steps into the ring, signaling us both to the center. He gives us the usual speech: “Alright ladies, I expect a good, clean fight. Obey my commands at all times, protect yourselves at all times. Now touch gloves, go back to your corners, and wait for the bell.” Ladies? I almost laugh at that. With a pouty face and gloves extended, I lean toward this nineteen-year-old boxing prodigy; just a niña in my eyes, and taunt, “Hey chica, sure you're in the right place? This is a boxing ring, not a playpen!” Without waiting for your reaction, I turn sharply on my heels and head confidently back to my corner.

<Valenzuela> Getting inside this chica’s head is half the battle, and lucky for me, I'm a pro at securing free rental space in my opponent’s cabeza. Mind games are my specialty, every smirk, taunt, and little jab at her confidence counts. Right now, adrenaline is crackling through me, muscles coiled tight, heart pounding in my chest, eager to unleash all this pent-up tension. I start bouncing lightly on the balls of my feet, tits flapping up with each bounce, working off that nervous energy that's building inside me. Gloves raised, body loose, I'm ready to fuck you up, bad. My eyes lock onto yours, focused and fierce, silently daring you to step forward. Now, if only they'd hurry up and ring that fucking bell already.

<Maxine_Williams> We meet in the center of the ring, and shamelessly, I both check you out and size you up. You've definitely got the body of a boxer. Muscles, athleticism, made for combat. Scars to match. Yet, you've also got one pretty body, and I think you know that. I nod along with the ref's words, having felt like I've heard it a thooousand times. I mean, I probably have? At this point, definitely...anyways. Your lips move, and for a moment, I was a bit distracted. My mind had wandered off. But, you shoot some mocking words over, and it makes me grin all that much wider. A big, excited look on my face as I practically bare my mouthguard at you like an angry dog would it's teeth. I hum, and I lift my gloves, tapping green leather against your black mitts. I tilt my head to the side, and my pouty lips purse just slightly. "Mm, yeah. This is the right place for me. Though, if you need, I know a retirement home somewhere near my hotel...y'know." I sneer at your back as you walk, and I can't help but giggle a bit.

<Maxine_Williams> I turn around with a quiet, pleased hum, and I drop my gloves to my sides. My breasts bounce a slight bit as I walk, before I drape my gloves over the top ropes. I sigh, and I slap my mitts together. I turn around, and I glare down at you. You might think that measly taunt like that will affect me any? Yeesh. I almost practice trash talk before I get into a good fight. I bounce on the balls of my feet to limber up, and I lift my gloves into my peekaboo stance. Seems like you want me to come in. Smart, smart...Ding! There it is! The crowd bursts into eager roars! In an instant, I charge at you. Not to attack, no. To prove ring dominance. To make you be the one who needs to back up and be defensive. I might not be from here, but I own the ring. I keep my gloves up close to my head, and I skid to a stop, standing right behind my wingspan. I keep my right fist by my jaw, and I throw a left jab at your head, testing your guard, lashing another quick, safe hook to your side. Wanting to get you pressured. Of course.

<Valenzuela> Waiting for the bell is always absolute torture. Every muscle tightens, nerves tingling with anticipation, and then it rings. DING! A lightning bolt shoots straight up my spine, electrifying every nerve ending. And just like that, we're on. You explode from your corner like a runaway freight train, fluorescent green gloves blazing under the lights, closing the distance faster than my heart can beat. For a split second, I'm frozen, hypnotized by the sheer force of muscle barreling toward me. Realizing the danger of getting pinned, I snap out of it, sliding forward quickly into an orthodox stance, left glove and foot leading, elbows hugged tightly against my chest, fists up, my right glove hovering protectively near my chin. No time to breathe as your aggression ignites, a sharp jab darts toward my chin. My right glove snapping up just in time, leather crashes against leather, the sharp crack echoing through the air. Immediately, a fierce right hook barrels toward my ribs. I'm already shifting to the right, moving with your punch so the blow lands softened, robbed of its ummmmppph. I flash a cocky grin, dark eyes sparkling defiantly as if to say, "Nice try, chica." My fists fire left-right-left straights aimed straight at your face. Whether you dodge or block them doesn’t matter; they’re just bait. I swiftly pivot, stepping right, and swing a vicious right hook over your left shoulder, trying to aim a powerful knockout blow right at your temple!!!!!

<Maxine_Williams> Right off the bat, I notice a few things. Your stance. Similar to my own. And, the way you react to my blows...expected. You block the jabs, which I catch onto immediately. Huh. Blocking, not dodging? At our height? I lick my mouthguard in thought, not being able to bite my lip. I torque my hips, and my hook collides with your side, but it lacks the power that I had initially put into it due to how you had twisted to tank the blow. And, you don't take the instant that my fist is pulling back for granted. You throw one straight aimed at my face, just barely clipping my nose. My head rocks, and my lips part. Saliva flings backwards, and my hands come up instinctively. I feel your leather gloves connect with my own. Thump, thump, thump, thump! I grumble. You're up to something. I keep my eyes on you as I guard, and then...squeak! Your shoes give it away. Your pivot. I bite down on my mouthguard and tense, but I don't plan to take a blow like that. A knockout blow, less than 15 seconds into the fight? Who do you think I am, some jobber? Your right hook swings in, but I suddenly roll my head downwards, to the left. My head forms a U shape as I swerve under your glove, and that's when I punish! I clench my gloves, and I HURL a right hook towards your mouth, trying to force your body to stagger as I suddenly hurl a left hook directly towards your liver! "Wanna play dirty, bitch?! Let's play dirty!"

<Valenzuela> My left clips your nose, and even though it ain't the power shot I'd hoped for, it gives me an instant sugar rush, making me CRAVE FOR MORE! I keep my combo of straights bangin' against your green gloves, and it's just enough distraction to set up a reckless move I've been warned against a thousand damn times. FUCK it, I throw caution to the wind, swinging a heavy right hook, hunting that very early knockout glory that has always eluded me. But you read my move and dip low, my gloved fist whizzing through empty air, leaving me stretched and exposed, tits bouncing wildly from the momentum. BAM!!!!!!!! Your right glove crashes into my mouth, snapping my head sideways and twisting my whole body to the right. My head buzzes, but muscle memory kicks in, abs tightening hard, bracing for the inevitable left. Your follow-up comes fast, BAM!!! a fierce left hook digging just above my navel; but thanks to the twist and the crunch in my abs, you miss smoakin' my liver by inches. The crowd gasps, thinking you've got me rocked from pounding away at head and body, but my core holds firm. I grunt deeply, doubled over slightly by the gut shot, but adrenaline keeps me going. Before you can reset your defense, I lunge forward, trying to wrap my arms tight around your head, wanting to drag you into a sweaty clinch. I press in close, letting your bigger breasts mushroom dominantly against my smaller tits, an amazing sensation, allowing me to regroup, and I want to make you think I'm hurt worse than I am. But I'm playing smart, gonna force you to carry my weight, grinding you down until ref says no more, knowing I can sap your strength if I get my arms around you.

<Maxine_Williams> My fist SMASHES into your lips, and it's fucking euphoric, instantly. The way your head violently rocks, leaving a spray of sweat and saliva into the rowdy crowd. It's fucking perfection. Causes your whole body to twist. My hook is thrown in, but, sadly, I miss your liver. I still connect with your navel, though. Even if I didn't get that blow to make you wanna vomit, I've got a blow that'll help me slowly weaken those tight abs until they're soft and pliable and ready for me to crush! You did get doubled over, and the crowd gasps, but you lunge forward! Shitshitshi— Huh? A clinch?! Your arms wrap around my head, and we're uncomfortably close together. Forehead to forehead, tit to tit. Your breasts overencompassing mine due to how much bigger they are, yet my piercings dig into your skin. The hot, heated embrace makes me wanna melt. I pant steaming breaths into your face, my lips parting, exposing my mouthguard. You grind me down, subtly wearing down my energy, but I have an idea. You should've wrapped your arms around mine. I lean in, and I lock lips with you. The crowd explodes into cheers and gasps, and that's the moment I start taking shots at yoir sides, at your ribs, hell—at your fucking kidneys! Let's hope the ref comes in, for your sake!

<Valenzuela> Our lips brush lightly as I tighten my hold around you, pulling you firmly against me to show you who's boss. Sliding my right leg smoothly between yours, my thigh presses into your toned inner thigh. NICE!!!. Except there’s one annoying little thing, your piercings are digging sharply into my nipples. Fuck, didn’t plan on that, but who thinks of everything? Suddenly, your fists start firing short, choppy punches into my side and back, not brutal punches, given the awkward angle, but enough of them will add up fast. The ref shouts sharply, “BREAK CLEAN!” What the hell does 'CLEAN' even mean, anyway? What's he gonna do, wag a finger and call me a "BAD GIRL"? In defiance, I clamp my grip even tighter around your neck, momentarily trying to steal your breath before he barks again, louder this time: “BREAK CLEAN, NOW!” I finally release you, stepping back fast, pretending to behave, but I've got other plans. The instant there’s enough space, I throw a sneaky sucker punch, a wicked right hook aimed straight at your jaw, betting on your surprise at just how much of a CHICA MAL I can really be.

<Maxine_Williams> Your right leg slides between my own, and I let out a shaky gasp of pleasure. Fuck. You...dirty bitch! I groan softly, not wanting you to see just how much boxing turns me on, but I keep throwing punches, wanting them to add up! The ref barks at us to break, and you tighten your hold! My face grows red from lack of air, and I begin throwing even harsher blows, aiming for your kidneys directly! And then, he barks out again. We're pulled away, and I breathe shakily. Trying to recouperate. Usually after a clinch, you're given time to bre—BANG! My head suddenly flings backwards. My body no longer in control. My knees fold, and in an instant, I crumple to the canvas. I lay staring at the ceiling lights, my ears ringing. The ref scolding you for a moment for that sucker punch. A few boo's in the crowd, but a majority cheer. I moan faintly, my pupils dilated. But, I'm not out. I see the ref's blurry form counting. I roll onto my navel, accidentally flashing you with my wet slit from this angle. I crawl up to my knees, and then, up to my feet. "Six! Seven!" And then, I turn around, having finally recovered. I fix my mouthguard, and I hold my gloves out. "Okay to fight?" The ref asks, and I nod. I give you a glare, and the fight begins again. I step forward, but, I'm turtled up. Eyes sharper than before. And then, I feint another blow to your jaw. Why wouldn't I go for a left hook to your head? They worked the last time! Suddenly, I pivot my weight, angling myself towards your left side, so I can throw a HARSH right hook to your body instead!

<Valenzuela> Oh my oh my…the ref actually points a stern finger right at me, scolding me with a harsh warning. I roll my eyes and shrug dramatically, flashing him a look of pure innocence like, “WHO ME? WHAT DID I DO?” Whatever, it’s all bonus time for you to recover anyway. The crowd is buzzing, mostly cheering; but hell, it's boxing night in a Mexican cantina, what did they expect, a fucking ballet? Finally, the ref turns to you, sprawled out on the canvas doing your best impression of a welcome mat, and begins his count. My gaze drops to your exposed slit as you struggle to get yourself upright, guess panties were optional tonight, huh? A wicked smirk spreads across my lips as you manage to pull yourself to your feet at last. The ref quickly checks you over, giving the all-clear before shouting out, “BOX ON!” I mockingly imitate your defensive turtle stance, drawing laughs from the rowdy crowd, but quickly shift into a tight peek-a-boo guard, gloves up and ready. You fake a left hook toward my face, but I don’t bite, keeping steady and prepared to block. Swiftly, you pivot, swinging around to my left side, unleashing a right hook aimed at my ribs, but it’s child’s play for me to crunch down and absorb your hook solidly with my left elbow and forearm. Instantly, I snap into a ruthless counterattack, firing a brutal left overhand bomb straight toward the sweet spot right between your eyes!!!

<Maxine_Williams> You mock me, but it doesn't affect me. You block my hook, and I can't help the sly grin that pulls at my lips. The closeness meant that my hook was a rather safe play. My gloves already coming back to guard. But, that plan of yours. To throw a straight between my eyes. It was good, but, you forget the difference in our styles of defense. You block. I don't. I dodge. Suddenly, I weave my head aside. Your gloved fist WHIFFS past my right shoulder, and I step in. The feeling of your arm over my shoulder is one that I try to abuse, tilting my body just slightly to pin that arm down. I keep my left fist guarding me, knowing it'a the only side you can punish me from. Then, I force my knee between your legs, trying to distract you with some stimulation down south. And then, with my right once more, I SWING my fist upwards, aiming to snake past your outstretched left and collide SICKENINGLY with your temple! Seems like a bitch like you needs some headshots, right?! I'll give you a good ol' taste, and show you why you have no fucking chance against me, Val!

<Valenzuela> I’m dead certain my left overhand is gonna rearrange that pretty face of yours, already picturing your head snapping back, but suddenly you're not where you SHOULD BE! You slip my punch effortlessly, your head gliding like a slick eel to the side of my glove, leaving me swinging at nothing but air. Fuck! You just made me look like I’m shadowboxing in front of everyone. My momentum leaves me off-balance, arm lingering out too long, slow to retract, giving you just the opening you wanted. You angle your muscular body closer, aggressively wedging your knee between my legs, pressing roughly into my pussy, not a full-on blow, but firm enough to send a hot, unexpected surge of desire racing up my spine. Shit, chica, you play dirty, and now I'm shamefully damp. I barely register that thought before your right glove rockets upward, hammering into my temple with a brutal uppercut. My head snaps back violently, vision exploding with bright sparks as my brain buzzes. The force sends me staggering backward, feet stumbling over the canvas until my back collides heavily with the top rope. Disoriented, I shake my head sharply, desperately blinking away the haze, feeling like my skull just got rung like a fuckin’ bell. I quickly drop into a defensive crouch, gloves snapping up into a tight, protective peek-a-boo guard, pulse thumping wildly in my ears as I try to figure out what the fuck just happened...and how I'm gonna even the score.

<Maxine_Williams> My fist SMASHES into your face, and slowly, I begin formulating a plan against you. Learning your weaknesses. You telegraph your punches harshly. And, you have a problem with counterpunching. The dots begin connecting in my brain, and I murmur softly. Saliva BURSTS everywhere, and I pant softly. Plus, I can tell. I aroused you with that leg. But, you made a mistake wearing such tight shorts. I can see how I turn you on. And I can make you all that much more horny. You stagger to the ropes, and you prop your peek-a-bop guard back up. I lift my own gloves, and I don't let you get a moment to breathe. I know how to fight a peekaboo stance. I use one myself. And the best way, for me, is to overwhelm the fuck out of my opponent. I clench my fists, and I lunge forward! My gloves come up, and I begin ROCKETING hook after hook towards the sides of your head! Aiming to get that guard to shift to your temples before I fuck up your equilibrium! If you do though? I've got a left uppercut aiming DIRECTLY for your jaw the instant I see your guard shift! My right fist keeps myself guarded, but I'm still light on my feet. Trying to egg you into hitting me.

<Valenzuela> My head starts to clear or at least the relentless thumping inside my skull quiets down a notch, just enough to remind me I'm stuck on these fuckin ropes, and that you’re not about to let me breathe. My pussy throbs with desire as I look towards you, but I tell myself, I gotta move, gotta get off these ropes. My heart pounds like a drum, as I watch you through my gloves, raised high in defense. You’re charging like an unstoppable freight train, those fluorescent green gloves glowing under the lights, your tits bouncing wildly with each aggressive stride. Shit, here she comes again!!!!! You stop and immediately go to work, SMACK, a punishing left hook rattles my head sideways, then CRACK, a vicious right hook hammers into my guard that I’ve now pulled back. Instinctively, my gloves spread out wider, trying desperately to block the next punishing blows. I'm open and exposed, vulnerable, and you don't miss a beat. You twist your powerful body, swinging a brutal left uppercut upward. I try desperately to lean back, but the fuckin' top rope presses into my back, refusing to yield an inch to my light weight body. BOOM!!!!! your glove crushes into my jaw, snapping my head back violently, spit flying like spray from a busted pipe. My brain swims in muck as thick as raw sewage, my vision flickering briefly, ears buzzing as the crowd roars. Gritting my teeth against the pain, I bite down hard on the gum shield, but I survived the punch, still standing. Clinch? FUCK NO….I can box my way off these ropes. I shoot out a fierce left straight, aiming directly for your chin, desperate to rock you back, to gain control. Then, in a flash, I try to slide sharply around your right side, pushing out my right glove to defend my face, fighting to escape your onslaught and reclaim the center of the ring!

<Maxine_Williams> One blow, connects. Two blows, connect. And, then my uppercut. BANG! Like a gunshot, an explosion right into your chin. That's what I like about boxing. We get into each other's heads in such different ways. You try to use words, to get me distracted, get me angry, get me confused for you to punish. I do too! But, there's a method I like even better. Cold, hard reads. Reading my opponent's instincts like a book, and forcing them to rewire their own brain just to have an attempt at beating me. To use their strengths and weaknesses against them to utterly humiliate them! You manage to stay standing after that blow...but, that's okay. I ain't going for a knockout that fast. Really, it wouldn't even work. If I dropped you now, you'd just get up. I have to whittle you down, like marble and a chisel. I need to hurt you until your fists can't even fathom raising. And then, to crush you so hard you fall out of the fucking ring! You suddenly perk up, and you throw a left at my head! An idea arises. I lean forward, and I pull my right backwards. Suddenly, your fist SMASHES into my face! My head rocks savagely, and I use the pain to motivate my body! I HURL a right shovel hook towards your navel, saliva flinging out of my lips as I hurl that cross counter at you! I stumble backwards, and I lift my fists back up, being sent back to a neutral position from your punch, breathing heavily...

<Valenzuela> Mad Max takes a jab straight to the face! For a split second, I’m stunned, watching my gloved fist pop you clean on the cheek, snapping your head to the side. But before I can celebrate, UGGHHH!!! A cross-counter slams into my body, my abs tightening a fraction too late to fully absorb it. Fuck! You baited me. My mouth gapes in a shocked O, spit spraying as I lurch back, the force of your counter punch rattling my core. I try to pivot around you, desperate to get off the damn ropes. Luckily, your backward movement resets your stance, giving me just enough space to circle off the ropes. My stomach aches, muscles throbbing from the impact, but I shove the pain aside. No time to be cautious. I need to trap you. You’ve been slipping and dodging too fuckin' well, making me look like I’m shadowboxing. You think you’re untouchable, relying on that fancy head movement. Time to use it against you. I snap my left arm back, telegraphing a big, wide, exaggerated left hook toward your head. Obvious. I want you to see it. I want you to react. I want you to do what you always do, duck low, load up for a counter punch to my body. And the second you do… I’ll be waiting. The moment your head dips, I’ll launch a BRUTAL right uppercut straight to your chin, drilling you with everything I’ve got.

<Maxine_Williams> Your left comes out, and I roll my eyes. "Again, Val?" I sneer, and I lift my gloves. I step forward, and I swerve my head, yet, you're ready. In an instant, your fist PROPELS into my face, and your glove DRILLS into my chin! My head FLINGS back, and my eyes nearly roll back. Saliva BURSTS from my lips, sweat and blood flying into the roaring crowd as my cunt practically gushes due to the pain! My knees knock together, and I stumble back, my ears ringing and my head swimming. My mouthguard hangs out just slightly, my shoes squeaking against the canvas as I stumble drunkenly to the opposite ropes. "Uhhhnnhh..." I moan, gripping the top ropes, steeling my feet to the canvas as I weakly push my mouthguard back into my lips. That probably shocked you. Or, at least...it should have. A blow like that to any other bitch probably would've sent them straight to bed. But there's a reason I'm called the Honeybadger. I'm stubborn as fuck. I prop myself back up, and I let out an angry huff. My sight fixes up slightly, and I grumble. I won't let that happen again. I stagger towards you, my lips parted softly for heavier breaths. I have an idea, though. I step up to you, panting. I pull my left fist back. And then, I hurl a HUGELY telegraphed punch towards right between your eyes, a haymaker. The look in my eyes tell you I'm gonna feint to a body blow. Yet, to your...hopefully, shock...I follow through, confident in my right fist's ability to block! I need to get this back and forth back on mt side!

<Valenzuela> YES! I feel the impact of my uppercut ripple up my right arm, knuckles smashing flush against your chin. My glove buries deep into your jawline, and for a moment, I’m sure I’ve got you. You stumble back and I don’t give chase, cause your gonna drop like a fuckin bag of potatoes, RIGHT? . I watch, waiting, expecting you to drop. That was a massive shot, a chin-crusher. But…you don’t fall. My eyes narrow as you somehow stay upright, your body swaying, but your feet still planted. Is it your bullshit-strong neck muscles keeping your skull from whipping back? Or maybe your brain is too tiny to knock out? Either way, my confidence flickers for a split second. Your eyes locking onto mine. Furious. Still focused. Fucking dangerous. Here it comes. I snap my guard up midway, anticipating the body shot you’re surely about to throw. You’ll go low, I’m sure of it. But I guess wrong. BOOM!! A flash of green leather explodes between my eyes. I barely see it coming before your fist CRACKS between my eyes, snapping my head back violently! A white-hot burst of pain shoots through my skull as my vision blurs for a second, eyes tearing up. My body lurches backward, stumbling, feet scrambling, until my back collides with the ropes, keeping me from going down.

<Maxine_Williams> It worked. It actually fucking worked, hahaha! My gamble paid off! The feeling of my haymaker reverberates down to my damn elbow, and the way your head rocks, and your body follows soon after is fucking arousing! The crowd bursts into loud, excited cheers as you drunkenly fall into the ropes! But, you're still up! And, it looks like the ref still knows that! You're in deep shit, and I know now's my chance. You wanted something flashy? You wanted to see how this niña knocks someone out? Fine. I'll show you. Not just that...no. I'm gonna leave your career in shambles! I'm gonna hit you so hard you'll be dragged out on a fucking stretcher! My shoes squeak against the canvas, and I dash towards you, barrelling towards your dazed body while your head is still swimming and your eyes are still watering. I clench my gloves and bite down on my mouthguard. My left flings back, and I skid to a halt! With a scream, I SPEAR all of my weight into a heavyhanded hook, aiming to SMASH my glove right into your jaw! The ropes can't keep you from going down if you fall from the fucking ring, bitch!

<Valenzuela> I’m on the ropes, my body staggering, legs rubbery, vision blurred, and you charge across the ring like a pit bull, not wanting to let up for a moment. I blink, trying to focus, but my vision swims. The crowd is a blur of noise. My ears ring. Everything tilts. I try to move my arms, but for a moment, my body just doesn’t respond. And then, YOU’RE ON ME. I barely lift my gloves before SMACK! A wicked left hook makes my head jerks sideways. I hear gasps, the crowd losing their minds, but it all feels so far away. My back presses into the top rope, I lock my knees together for support, guard is down, but I try to raise it to shoulder height….gotta do something….

<Maxine_Williams> My hook COLLIDES with your head, and I grumble. Fine. It didn't knock you out. Only means I get more punches with you. And I'm not gonna stop until you're out fucking cold at my feet. I stand back up straight, and I sway from side to side. Building up momentum as best I can. And then, I suddenly swing my hips, and I hurl my weight to the side! I throw a left hook towards your jawline, aiming to get you staggering, before I switch my weight, using my momentum to throw a right hook to your jaw, and then a left, and then a right, and a left, and a right, and a left! I don't just wanna beat the people's champ. I wanna crush her. In front of aaaall her peoples! I step back, and I bend my knees. I could've missed all of those hooks. That doesn't matter. I'm putting all my power into this. If you don't fall...you're a lot more stubborn than I had thought. But...I want you down. No. I want you out cold. I clench my dominant right fist, and I SPRING upwards, and I slice my fist through the air, splitting between your tits, aiming to finally put your lights out with a strike to your chin!

<Valenzuela> My head swims in grease, drowning in the punishment you’re dishing out. My legs feel like they’re made of sand, exhaustion creeping into my bones, my body screaming at me that I can’t keep up with a fuckin’ 19-year-old prodigy. I’m unsteady, swaying, but some raw, primal instinct keeps me from collapsing outright. That, and the fact that my back is glued to the ropes, trapped in the worst place possible. My eyes flicker between your flashing green gloves, the wild bounce of your tits, your piercings catching the light. Fuck…why is boxing so erotic? Or maybe my oxygen-starved brain is just short-circuiting. Wow… does Mad Bitch have three tits?! Weird, senseless thoughts swirl in my rattled mind, until they get beaten right the fuck out of me. Suddenly, I’m not thinking anymore. I’m just absorbing. LEFT.....CRACK! My jaw jerks sideways. RIGHT.....SMASH! My face whips the other way. LEFT....RIGHT....LEFT....RIGHT! My head snaps back and forth like I’m caught in a storm, each hook rocking me worse than the last. The crowd is going berserk. The ref just watches, letting it happen, this is underground boxing, not some pretty, sanctioned fight. I feel my knees start to give, my whole body slumping forward in defeat. And then—you launch the kill shot. A fucking nuclear right uppercut detonates under my chin. BOOM!!!!!!!!!!. My entire body goes airborne. My head snaps back so hard my gumshield rockets out of my mouth, soaring into the audience for some lucky mother fucker to take home as a trophy. I’m weightless for a moment, and then, I twist midair and CRASH onto the mat, spread-eagle, tits skyward. My arms flop uselessly at my sides. My legs splay open. My eyes roll back, glazing over, my vision swallowed by darkness. Lights. Fucking. Out. yt

<Maxine_Williams> Each blow, each fucking blow, crashes HARSHLY into your jaw. And then, my uppercut sends you STRAIGHT to sleep. Cameras flash, the crowd bursting into the loudest roars of the night. You're sent up into the air, before you suddenly crumple, and I blink slowly. I step back, and I feel the ref shove me back to begin counting you out. One. Two. Three. Four. I let out a loud ROAR of triumph as I take a victory lap around the ring. The ref gently grabs your wrist, and watches as it drops down to your side, limp. And then, he waves his hands. "SHE'S OUT! IT'S OVER!" He announces and...DING DING DING! After a harsh back and forth of just brawling, the fight is finally done. And I won. A pot bonus too, for not letting down my betters. I growl, and I approach you. I undo your gloves, and I take my trophy, lifting them high above my head as my left fist is lifted by the ref.

<Valenzuela> Something sharp burns up my nostrils, yanking me violently from the abyss. My body jerks slightly, lungs gasping in a ragged breath. Smelling salts. Someone’s holding them under my nose. My legs are elevated, someone must’ve propped them up to help the blood flow back to my fried brain. But what the fuck just happened? Flashes. Rapid-fire images, broken memories, all tinted in green. Your gloves. Smashing into my face. Again and again. I groan softly, eyes fluttering open. My head is pounding, my skull feels like it’s been put through a blender. My chest rises and falls with each painful breath, my body still tingling from the brutal knockout. And then I realize something is missing. My gloves. I turn my aching head, and there you are, strutting around the ring like you own it, my gloves held high above your head like a trophy. SHIT. SHIT. SHIT. My stomach twists with humiliation. My face burns hotter than my bruises. The crowd is still roaring, still celebrating my destruction. I close my eyes again, swallowing the bitter taste of defeat. Someday. Someday................end

<Published> 2025-03-16, viewed 149 times.

Comments

Alana Danvers

5 days ago

Great fight! Sexy struggle.

JaneFighter (deleted member)

17 days ago

Beaten by a younger opponent again Val? I see a trend. Now I need to fight Maxine to decide who is your real conqueror. Such a sexy story, I love the idea of a KOgasm. I bet you both had messy trunks after this fight...

Valenzuela

17 days ago

Female Boxing Federation

Maxine Williams vs Valenzuela in Topless Boxing Brawl in a Mexican Cantina: An Erotic & Brutal KOgasm!

Comments

JaneFighter (deleted member)

JaneFighter (deleted member)

Bob Rock (deleted member)