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Description
Both boxers' teams left the ring as the bell for the second round rang.  The two women stood and readied their gloves to the enthusiastic applause of the spectators.  Mary kept her gloves over her face and chest, and Donna did likewise.  Mary started the action back up again, scooting forward while aggressively pumping left jabs at Donna's face.  Donna blocked the jabs, but then her eyes shot open wide as Mary's right glove snuck around her guard and crushed her sore ribs.  "Hooofh!"  Donna wheezed as her chest contracted.  Having inflicted enough damage to break her opponent's guard, Mary grinned wickedly as she delivered a left jab and then a right haymaker to Donna's breasts, crushing the dark orbs.  Donna coughed and gagged as Mary's punches landed, mind numbing pain distracting her from all else.  Determined to slow her chocolate skinned opponent down, Mary ripped into Donna's wounded frame with two jabs and a right hook.  "Huh, huh!  Hoagh!"  Donna's body twisted under Mary's punches, sweat knocked loose with each meaty thud.
Donna retaliated with a speed that proved she was far from finished.  She lashed out with a crushing left hook that compressed Mary's right eye, closing it further and sending the brunette reeling back a step.  Donna persisted, working two low punches in just under Mary's elbows and above her bikini line, her green gloves thudding against Mary's sweaty navel.  Donna finished with a hard right hook that struck Mary's swollen cheek, sending spittle and a bit of blood sailing canvasward.  Mary grunted as each punch unerringly found its mark.  "Aaagh!  Huff huff, ooufh!"
Though Mary tasted blood, she was undeterred.  She kept driving her Jamaican opponent back, knocking the woman from side to side with hard hooks to the jaw.  Each blow sent Mary forward a step and Donna back, dislodging ever increasing quantities of spittle and sweat from the wiry woman.  After punching Donna across the ring and into the ropes, Mary set the dazed woman up for a hard right uppercut and let it rip, her silver glove smashing into the underside of Donna's pointed chin, driving her head back violently and casting spittle and blood overhead.  Donna's body crashed to the canvas, a bit of blood seeping from between her clenched teeth as she rolled to her side and tried to rise.
The crowd erupted in applause, some members up on their feet at the sight of the fight's first knockdown.  Mary grinned, a small pool of blood forming at the corner of her swollen mouth.  She turned and raised both gloves high in a show of dominance, giving the excited crowd the show they were expecting.  They cheered even harder, and Mary was filled with a warming sense of reassurance knowing that the crowd supported her.
The referee had reached the count of eight by the time Donna had managed to stand.  "You good to go?"  She asked a still somewhat unsteady Donna.  "Yea."  Donna replied, wiping her bloody mouth with her glove and shooting Mary an angry look.  "Box!"  The ref commanded, quickly stepping back out of the boxers' way.  The two girls closed rapidly.
Donna tested Mary's guard with a rapid combination.  Mary stopped the punches with her glove and arm, then returned a quick combo of her own.  Donna evaded Mary's punches, then slipped inside her guard and unleashed a savage right hook to the outside of her inflamed left tit, sending it smacking against its round neighbor and causing the pair to jiggle about painfully.  The sound of leather slapping against the sensitive, sweat-slicked skin was followed shortly by Mary's scream of pain; the pale boxer recoiling from the incredible agony that overwhelmed her senses.
Quick to take advantage of her flustered opponent, Donna hammered away at her injured eye and cheek with a barrage of potent jabs, straights and hooks.  Mary swayed back and forth violently as the punches continued to demolish her rapidly closing eye and badly swollen cheek; her face shedding perspiration, saliva, and steadily increasing amounts of blood with every impact.  "Agh!  Unf unf unf!  Ough!  Auuugh!"  Mary's deep, wounded groans filled the stands.  The crowd was on its feet, eager to see if the new fighter would be able to withstand such punishment.
Donna fired two uppercuts into Mary's abs like twin green torpedoes; the Jamaican woman grinning slightly now as she watched her gloves sink deep into Mary's midsection with no resistance.  The pale brunette listed like a sinking battleship, her breath washing over her opponent as it escaped in huge gusts.  "Ooofh!  Ooouufh!"  The silver fighter stumbled back into the padded corner post, dazed and hurting badly.  She knew she was in trouble, and had to buy some time to recover.  Donna moved in, trapping Mary in the corner of the ring.  Green leather ravaged Mary's swelling lips, casting blood and spit over the ropes and into the first few rows of the audience as Donna worked Mary's jaw with a barrage of jabs and crosses.
Mary ignored the pain and disorientation that threatened to overwhelm her, swinging forward with hard blind punches.  She felt her gloved fists collide with flesh and bone coupled with the sound of Donna's groans.  Her wild blows rocked Donna's head back as they caught her dimpled cheeks, sending explosions of spit and blood  from her mouth as she almost fell backward.
Mary used this window to escape the corner, shuffling back into the center of the ring.  Her swollen features only made her growling countenance all the more vicious.  Both Donna and Mary took a moment to shake off their dizziness and get their bearings before moving forward to exchange more leather.

Her jaw must be pretty weak by now, but I think her ribs are the better way to go.  I need to try and get her to open her guard or sneak some shots in.  That'll put her down for good.

Mary prodded at Donna's green mitts with a few jabs, dancing back around the Jamaican fighter.  Donna stepped forward with a lunging shot aimed at Mary's torso before stepping back out just as quickly.  After blocking the lunging strike Mary tried to counter with a right cross, but was caught by a surprise left hook that smashed her bruised right eye.  "Ooouh!"  Mary groaned, faltering and allowing Donna continue her assault.  The woman flexed her cordlike muscles, putting all the power at her disposal behind her gloves as she kept focusing on Mary's eye and cheek.
The brunette in silver moaned in agony as Donna's gloves slammed into her battered face again and again, the sounds of Donna's beat down riling up the crowd.  Each punch made Mary's vision blurrier and sent sprays of sweat and spit mixed with blood flying, spotting the canvas.  Deep in a stupor, Mary raised her gloves as best she could to cover herself and stop Donna's relentless punches.  She stopped the next four blows, but then Donna wizened and switched to her exposed lower abdominals.
"Unf!  Ough!  Ooofh!  Ooofh!!"  Mary's good eye shot open as Donna's quartet of uppercuts snuck under her gloves and collided with her solar plexus, knocking the wind from her.  Donna had hoped those punches would be enough to force Mary to lower her guard, but the stubborn boxer kept her gloves up, sacrificing her body for the sake of protecting her badly beaten face and chest.  Donna reared back to fire another salvo of uppercuts into Mary's body when she suddenly ripped into Donna's cheek with a lightning-quick left cross.  Donna was caught off guard by the hurried punch, and Mary was able to use the split second it bought her to crush Donna's vulnerable ribs with a wrecking ball of a right hand.  "Hoough!"  Donna groaned, spraying Mary with a fine mist of blood and saliva as her breath was forced past her lips.
Mary didn't hold back, hammering away at Donna's firm trunk like a lumberjack with an axe.  One, two, three, four rapid chops to Donna's bruised ribs; each blow causing Donna to twist and groan as the pain in her side became unbearable.  The injured Jamaican woman limped away as quickly as she could, trying to stay beyond the reach of Mary's eager silver gloves.
Silver chased green around the ring, steadily gaining ground on her sluggish opponent with each passing moment.  When Mary stepped within range she fired a jab and right cross.  Too injured to dodge effectively, Donna parried the punches.  Using the strength of her left arm to shove Mary's cross aside, Donna retaliated with a right uppercut to Mary's jaw, clapping the woman's mouth shut and jerking her head back.  "Uhhhngh!"  Mary cried as she swayed, her vision doubled and blurry.  Donna belted the helpless pugilist in silver with a right haymaker, sending the deeply intoxicated young woman spiraling to the canvas; her dark brown ponytail tracing the path of her head like a dancer's ribbon as she plummeted.
The crowd erupted once more at the sight of the second knockdown, cheers and whistles raining down on the two resilient women.   Mary's topless form was spread out across the battle-stained canvas, on her stomach, face turned aside.  She had landed on her chest, her weight squishing her breasts painfully against the mat.  She lay there for a moment, sanguine fluid trickling from her mouth and down her cheek.  "Two!  Three!"  The noise of the crowd seemed to be very far away, like an echo.  Somewhere among the cheers and roaring she heard a few supporters calling out to her.  "Come on Mary!"  "Get up Mary!"  "You can do it!"

I can't give up now... so close...
Come on girl... you can do this!

"Five!  Six!"  Mary battled back the wooziness and pain that tempted her to remain still, pressing up off of the crimson-tinted canvas and rising just after the count of nine.  The referee stepped close to Mary to check on her.  "Can you continue?"  She asked, placing an arm on Mary's bare shoulder.  Mary's vision had settled a bit, but the pain from her eye and mouth were really beginning to give her problems.  She shook some of the cobwebs from her head, then turned and spat the accumulated blood from her mouth.  After wiping her chin with her glove she nodded.  The referee nodded back, and then let the two women resume.  Fortunately for both weary fighters the bell rang before they could exchange any punches, and the two slowly returned to their corners.

Donna looked horrifying as she moved to her stool.  Her mouth was dripping blood onto her heaving chest, and her body was covered in bruises and slick with sweat and a bit of blood.  The sweat was hers, the blood Mary's.  Her green gloves were also smeared with her opponent's blood.
She eased down onto her corner stool gingerly as to not upset her aching ribs.  Mary had tenderized her thoroughly; the entire left side of her torso was covered in deep, penetrating bruises.  The dark purple and red welts looked bad, even against Donna's dark skin.  Her breasts were irritated, but revealed no serious signs of injury.  Her face was also damaged significantly; her cheeks and chin had swollen considerably, and blood dripped steadily from her lips, trailing down her faintly purple chin to her upper chest.  Her seconds rushed to clean her up and stop her bleeding, as well as assess and treat the damage to her ribs.  They splashed her with water, massaging away the buildup of fluids and helping loosen her tense, toned muscles.  She rinsed and spat crimson into an offered metal pail, gulping down huge breaths of air as she stared at her opposition with adamant eyes.
Mary appeared about as good as you'd expect, having been savagely beaten for a most of the second round.  Just as her opponent, she was bathed in sweat and gore, with smudges of blood staining the business ends of her smooth gloves.  A few strands of hair had come loose from her ponytail and were either stuck to her damp face or stood out from the rest of her chestnut hair.  Sweat rolled from her forehead and back, forming small tributaries that ran down her face and body.
She could no longer see from her right eye.  After repeated direct hits it had swollen and closed up completely; a dark shade of plum colored the area from brow to cheekbone.  Her left cheek was a similar color, having also received multiple blows.  Blood flowed steadily from the corner of her mouth, spattering onto her chest and flowing toward her cleavage.  Her breasts were bruised, sore, and showing some signs of swelling; and her abdomen was looking inflamed as well.
As soon as Mary's curved butt touched the wooden corner stool her team snapped into action.  They doused her with ice cold water to clean her up as well as cool her down.  They applied ice to her eye, cheek, breasts, and abdomen; to help combat swelling.  The girl's naked chest heaved as she took in as much air as she could, pausing to rinse her mouth and allow her seconds to check her cheek and lips for cuts.

After doing all they could in the minute provided, the two teams of seconds exited the ring, letting their boxers rise heavily from their stools for the third round.  Both women could tell that the other was nearing their limit.  The question now was who could hold out the longest.  Mary's mind was much clearer after the break, and she put it to work assessing her situation.

Damn, she's messed me up.  I can't let her take advantage of my eye like she did last round.  Her punches are so accurate.  They hit the same spots every time!  I can't take much more.  But she's not doing much better.  She was limping after I got her ribs.  If I can just land a good, clean shot or two she'll crumble.

Donna was moving stiffly as she left her corner.  She was no longer limping but still favoring her injured ribs; the accumulated damage had robbed her of much of her deadly speed.  Mary watched her with her good eye, keeping her gloves at the ready.  The two circled prudently, only occasionally willing to prod at one another with a light jab or straight.  Neither girl was willing to commit to an attack and leave their tender areas exposed.  After probing Mary's defenses for a while Donna tried to draw Mary's guard away with a fake jab to her body.  The weary brunette didn't fall for her ploy, unflinching.  Donna waited a moment and then threw another feint, then another.  Mary remained unresponsive, continuing to cover up.
Realizing Mary wasn't going to uncover her most weakened areas, Donna decided to press her attack.  The dark-skinned beauty bombarded her opponent's midsection, her green leather thumping against Mary's taught abdominals several times in short order.  Mary grunted, flexing her abs to minimize the impact, then began to throw a right hook as fast as her fatigued muscles would allow.  Donna had been waiting for the turtle to come out of her shell, quickly changing targets and throwing a hard right hook of her own.
Twin smacks pealed across the venue and beachfront like thunder.  Mary's hook crashed against Donna's rib cage like a wave breaking on a cliff face; Donna's hook sunk deep within the soft tissue of Mary's shapely left tit, painfully deforming the fleshy orb.  Both women recoiled from the pain of their cross-counter; Donna coughing up a bit of blood as she stumbled backward, Mary letting out a scream of pain as her injury overtook her.
Both women needed a moment to recover after their exchange, but it was Donna who came to her senses first.  She leapt at Mary, eager to exploit her weakness by throwing a quick combination of fast jabs and crosses at her breasts, trying to keep the wounded woman locked down.  Mary fell back against the ropes as Donna treated her breasts like twin speed bags.  First she crushed them against Mary's ribs with jabs and straights and then juggled them upward with quick uppercuts, causing Mary's wounded mammaries to judder about.  Mary's mind went blank, unable to cope with the pain as her opponent continued to sink punch after punch into her pert tits.  Donna reared back, leveling her finishing punch.  She let it rip, colliding into Mary's swollen jaw and knocking her backward in a spurt of spittle and blood, her arms tangling in the cold ropes as she fell onto her smooth butt.
The crowd was in a frenzy, astounded that both women were able to last this long.  The referee began to count Mary out as Donna leaned forward, panting hard as she rested both of her gloves on her knees.  Mary was seeing stars, but the searing pain in her chest was stirring a fury within her.  Her watery eyes widened with rage, and she steadily climbed to her feet.  The roar of the crowd as she stood by the count of eight was almost deafening, and the uproar caught Donna's attention.
The sight of Mary standing made the woman's dark skin turn a few shades lighter.  She obviously had put all she had into that last punch, gambling that she'd put her silver opponent down.

She lost that wager.

Mary clenched her teeth tightly, and as soon as the ref gave the signal surged forward on a wave of pure adrenaline.  Donna was completely spent, unable to get her gloves up in time as Mary went back to work on her ribs, pounding at them until she heard a small crack.  Donna cried out in pain as she staggered backward into the ropes, defenseless and obviously finished.

So you like to punch tits do you?!  Let's see how you like a dose of your own medicine!

Mary roared as she unleashed her wrath and vengeance upon Donna's bosom.  The Jamaican woman's gasps turned to groans, then to sobs as Mary bombarded her sensitive mounds with three merciless combinations, smacking them in all directions.  Mary leaned in close, coiling her left arm around her helpless opponent's neck and pressing her bruised chest tightly against Donna's.  "Now we're even."  She whispered, though her voice was still overheard by the ring's microphones.  With that she cocked her arm back, just as she had when the two had clinched what now seemed like ages ago, then demolished Donna's chest, the brutalized woman collapsing onto the canvas.  The Jamaican fighter's face was tight in agony, and she made no effort to stand.  The referee fulfilled her duty, counting the fallen fighter out.  At her call of ten the crowd erupted once more in cheers and whistles.
As Mary's adrenaline rush faded she came to her senses and almost fainted.  The referee offered her shoulder to the depleted combatant, and Mary smiled as she realized she had won.  Leaning on the referee with her left arm, she raised her right high for the appreciative crowd, smiling as the announcer declared her the winner by knockout in the third round.  Her seconds helped her into her robe and back into the locker room just as the medical staff was securing Donna to a stretcher and bringing her to the medical tent.  Mary couldn't help but feel a bit of concern for her.  She respected any woman who stood against her in combat; it was a warrior's bond.
About thirty minutes later Mary had been treated and bandaged by the medical team and was relaxing on the beach in her casual clothes watching the waves roll in when Justin came to get her.  "That was a phenomenal fight.  You're one gutsy woman.  Mary smiled; the bandages over her eye and cheek shifting as her face moved.  "Thanks."  Justin sat down next to her on the sand, gazing out into the ocean as well.  "There's no rush.  We can leave whenever you're ready to go."  "Thanks," Mary said, turning toward Justin.  "I'm ready to go head back now."  Justin nodded.  "I've had your account credited, as per our agreement.  After your fantastic display of skill today I'm certain my desk will be flooded with new offers for you.  I spoke with several members and it seems you're a crowd favorite."
Mary eyed him skeptically.  "So they like how I looked in that bikini, eh?"  Justin removed his glasses, looking her dead in the eye.  "No.  Well, yes, some of them did comment on how attractive you were, but most of them were so excited because we don't have regular fighters of your caliber.  We can get any pretty face with huge breasts to strap on some boxing gloves and parade around the ring.  While some of our members prefer that sort of thing, most of us would rather see a nice full on fight.  A fight where nothing is staged; where the women actually know how to use their gloves.  A real fight.  Today you delivered – in spades.  We're ready to have you again whenever you feel you are ready."
Mary reflected on his words for a moment, watching a couple of gulls land on the sand a few meters away.  "I'll let you know when I'm ready for another fight.  But I'd like the next one to be by standard women's rules.  I don't know if my poor boobs are up for another match like today's anytime soon," she said, smiling.  Justin returned her smile.  "I'll make a note of that."

Description
Both boxers' teams left the ring as the bell for the second round rang.  The two women stood and readied their gloves to the enthusiastic applause of the spectators.  Mary kept her gloves over her face and chest, and Donna did likewise.  Mary started the action back up again, scooting forward while aggressively pumping left jabs at Donna's face.  Donna blocked the jabs, but then her eyes shot open wide as Mary's right glove snuck around her guard and crushed her sore ribs.  "Hooofh!"  Donna wheezed as her chest contracted.  Having inflicted enough damage to break her opponent's guard, Mary grinned wickedly as she delivered a left jab and then a right haymaker to Donna's breasts, crushing the dark orbs.  Donna coughed and gagged as Mary's punches landed, mind numbing pain distracting her from all else.  Determined to slow her chocolate skinned opponent down, Mary ripped into Donna's wounded frame with two jabs and a right hook.  "Huh, huh!  Hoagh!"  Donna's body twisted under Mary's punches, sweat knocked loose with each meaty thud.
Donna retaliated with a speed that proved she was far from finished.  She lashed out with a crushing left hook that compressed Mary's right eye, closing it further and sending the brunette reeling back a step.  Donna persisted, working two low punches in just under Mary's elbows and above her bikini line, her green gloves thudding against Mary's sweaty navel.  Donna finished with a hard right hook that struck Mary's swollen cheek, sending spittle and a bit of blood sailing canvasward.  Mary grunted as each punch unerringly found its mark.  "Aaagh!  Huff huff, ooufh!"
Though Mary tasted blood, she was undeterred.  She kept driving her Jamaican opponent back, knocking the woman from side to side with hard hooks to the jaw.  Each blow sent Mary forward a step and Donna back, dislodging ever increasing quantities of spittle and sweat from the wiry woman.  After punching Donna across the ring and into the ropes, Mary set the dazed woman up for a hard right uppercut and let it rip, her silver glove smashing into the underside of Donna's pointed chin, driving her head back violently and casting spittle and blood overhead.  Donna's body crashed to the canvas, a bit of blood seeping from between her clenched teeth as she rolled to her side and tried to rise.
The crowd erupted in applause, some members up on their feet at the sight of the fight's first knockdown.  Mary grinned, a small pool of blood forming at the corner of her swollen mouth.  She turned and raised both gloves high in a show of dominance, giving the excited crowd the show they were expecting.  They cheered even harder, and Mary was filled with a warming sense of reassurance knowing that the crowd supported her.
The referee had reached the count of eight by the time Donna had managed to stand.  "You good to go?"  She asked a still somewhat unsteady Donna.  "Yea."  Donna replied, wiping her bloody mouth with her glove and shooting Mary an angry look.  "Box!"  The ref commanded, quickly stepping back out of the boxers' way.  The two girls closed rapidly.
Donna tested Mary's guard with a rapid combination.  Mary stopped the punches with her glove and arm, then returned a quick combo of her own.  Donna evaded Mary's punches, then slipped inside her guard and unleashed a savage right hook to the outside of her inflamed left tit, sending it smacking against its round neighbor and causing the pair to jiggle about painfully.  The sound of leather slapping against the sensitive, sweat-slicked skin was followed shortly by Mary's scream of pain; the pale boxer recoiling from the incredible agony that overwhelmed her senses.
Quick to take advantage of her flustered opponent, Donna hammered away at her injured eye and cheek with a barrage of potent jabs, straights and hooks.  Mary swayed back and forth violently as the punches continued to demolish her rapidly closing eye and badly swollen cheek; her face shedding perspiration, saliva, and steadily increasing amounts of blood with every impact.  "Agh!  Unf unf unf!  Ough!  Auuugh!"  Mary's deep, wounded groans filled the stands.  The crowd was on its feet, eager to see if the new fighter would be able to withstand such punishment.
Donna fired two uppercuts into Mary's abs like twin green torpedoes; the Jamaican woman grinning slightly now as she watched her gloves sink deep into Mary's midsection with no resistance.  The pale brunette listed like a sinking battleship, her breath washing over her opponent as it escaped in huge gusts.  "Ooofh!  Ooouufh!"  The silver fighter stumbled back into the padded corner post, dazed and hurting badly.  She knew she was in trouble, and had to buy some time to recover.  Donna moved in, trapping Mary in the corner of the ring.  Green leather ravaged Mary's swelling lips, casting blood and spit over the ropes and into the first few rows of the audience as Donna worked Mary's jaw with a barrage of jabs and crosses.
Mary ignored the pain and disorientation that threatened to overwhelm her, swinging forward with hard blind punches.  She felt her gloved fists collide with flesh and bone coupled with the sound of Donna's groans.  Her wild blows rocked Donna's head back as they caught her dimpled cheeks, sending explosions of spit and blood  from her mouth as she almost fell backward.
Mary used this window to escape the corner, shuffling back into the center of the ring.  Her swollen features only made her growling countenance all the more vicious.  Both Donna and Mary took a moment to shake off their dizziness and get their bearings before moving forward to exchange more leather.

Her jaw must be pretty weak by now, but I think her ribs are the better way to go.  I need to try and get her to open her guard or sneak some shots in.  That'll put her down for good.

Mary prodded at Donna's green mitts with a few jabs, dancing back around the Jamaican fighter.  Donna stepped forward with a lunging shot aimed at Mary's torso before stepping back out just as quickly.  After blocking the lunging strike Mary tried to counter with a right cross, but was caught by a surprise left hook that smashed her bruised right eye.  "Ooouh!"  Mary groaned, faltering and allowing Donna continue her assault.  The woman flexed her cordlike muscles, putting all the power at her disposal behind her gloves as she kept focusing on Mary's eye and cheek.
The brunette in silver moaned in agony as Donna's gloves slammed into her battered face again and again, the sounds of Donna's beat down riling up the crowd.  Each punch made Mary's vision blurrier and sent sprays of sweat and spit mixed with blood flying, spotting the canvas.  Deep in a stupor, Mary raised her gloves as best she could to cover herself and stop Donna's relentless punches.  She stopped the next four blows, but then Donna wizened and switched to her exposed lower abdominals.
"Unf!  Ough!  Ooofh!  Ooofh!!"  Mary's good eye shot open as Donna's quartet of uppercuts snuck under her gloves and collided with her solar plexus, knocking the wind from her.  Donna had hoped those punches would be enough to force Mary to lower her guard, but the stubborn boxer kept her gloves up, sacrificing her body for the sake of protecting her badly beaten face and chest.  Donna reared back to fire another salvo of uppercuts into Mary's body when she suddenly ripped into Donna's cheek with a lightning-quick left cross.  Donna was caught off guard by the hurried punch, and Mary was able to use the split second it bought her to crush Donna's vulnerable ribs with a wrecking ball of a right hand.  "Hoough!"  Donna groaned, spraying Mary with a fine mist of blood and saliva as her breath was forced past her lips.
Mary didn't hold back, hammering away at Donna's firm trunk like a lumberjack with an axe.  One, two, three, four rapid chops to Donna's bruised ribs; each blow causing Donna to twist and groan as the pain in her side became unbearable.  The injured Jamaican woman limped away as quickly as she could, trying to stay beyond the reach of Mary's eager silver gloves.
Silver chased green around the ring, steadily gaining ground on her sluggish opponent with each passing moment.  When Mary stepped within range she fired a jab and right cross.  Too injured to dodge effectively, Donna parried the punches.  Using the strength of her left arm to shove Mary's cross aside, Donna retaliated with a right uppercut to Mary's jaw, clapping the woman's mouth shut and jerking her head back.  "Uhhhngh!"  Mary cried as she swayed, her vision doubled and blurry.  Donna belted the helpless pugilist in silver with a right haymaker, sending the deeply intoxicated young woman spiraling to the canvas; her dark brown ponytail tracing the path of her head like a dancer's ribbon as she plummeted.
The crowd erupted once more at the sight of the second knockdown, cheers and whistles raining down on the two resilient women.   Mary's topless form was spread out across the battle-stained canvas, on her stomach, face turned aside.  She had landed on her chest, her weight squishing her breasts painfully against the mat.  She lay there for a moment, sanguine fluid trickling from her mouth and down her cheek.  "Two!  Three!"  The noise of the crowd seemed to be very far away, like an echo.  Somewhere among the cheers and roaring she heard a few supporters calling out to her.  "Come on Mary!"  "Get up Mary!"  "You can do it!"

I can't give up now... so close...
Come on girl... you can do this!

"Five!  Six!"  Mary battled back the wooziness and pain that tempted her to remain still, pressing up off of the crimson-tinted canvas and rising just after the count of nine.  The referee stepped close to Mary to check on her.  "Can you continue?"  She asked, placing an arm on Mary's bare shoulder.  Mary's vision had settled a bit, but the pain from her eye and mouth were really beginning to give her problems.  She shook some of the cobwebs from her head, then turned and spat the accumulated blood from her mouth.  After wiping her chin with her glove she nodded.  The referee nodded back, and then let the two women resume.  Fortunately for both weary fighters the bell rang before they could exchange any punches, and the two slowly returned to their corners.

Donna looked horrifying as she moved to her stool.  Her mouth was dripping blood onto her heaving chest, and her body was covered in bruises and slick with sweat and a bit of blood.  The sweat was hers, the blood Mary's.  Her green gloves were also smeared with her opponent's blood.
She eased down onto her corner stool gingerly as to not upset her aching ribs.  Mary had tenderized her thoroughly; the entire left side of her torso was covered in deep, penetrating bruises.  The dark purple and red welts looked bad, even against Donna's dark skin.  Her breasts were irritated, but revealed no serious signs of injury.  Her face was also damaged significantly; her cheeks and chin had swollen considerably, and blood dripped steadily from her lips, trailing down her faintly purple chin to her upper chest.  Her seconds rushed to clean her up and stop her bleeding, as well as assess and treat the damage to her ribs.  They splashed her with water, massaging away the buildup of fluids and helping loosen her tense, toned muscles.  She rinsed and spat crimson into an offered metal pail, gulping down huge breaths of air as she stared at her opposition with adamant eyes.
Mary appeared about as good as you'd expect, having been savagely beaten for a most of the second round.  Just as her opponent, she was bathed in sweat and gore, with smudges of blood staining the business ends of her smooth gloves.  A few strands of hair had come loose from her ponytail and were either stuck to her damp face or stood out from the rest of her chestnut hair.  Sweat rolled from her forehead and back, forming small tributaries that ran down her face and body.
She could no longer see from her right eye.  After repeated direct hits it had swollen and closed up completely; a dark shade of plum colored the area from brow to cheekbone.  Her left cheek was a similar color, having also received multiple blows.  Blood flowed steadily from the corner of her mouth, spattering onto her chest and flowing toward her cleavage.  Her breasts were bruised, sore, and showing some signs of swelling; and her abdomen was looking inflamed as well.
As soon as Mary's curved butt touched the wooden corner stool her team snapped into action.  They doused her with ice cold water to clean her up as well as cool her down.  They applied ice to her eye, cheek, breasts, and abdomen; to help combat swelling.  The girl's naked chest heaved as she took in as much air as she could, pausing to rinse her mouth and allow her seconds to check her cheek and lips for cuts.

After doing all they could in the minute provided, the two teams of seconds exited the ring, letting their boxers rise heavily from their stools for the third round.  Both women could tell that the other was nearing their limit.  The question now was who could hold out the longest.  Mary's mind was much clearer after the break, and she put it to work assessing her situation.

Damn, she's messed me up.  I can't let her take advantage of my eye like she did last round.  Her punches are so accurate.  They hit the same spots every time!  I can't take much more.  But she's not doing much better.  She was limping after I got her ribs.  If I can just land a good, clean shot or two she'll crumble.

Donna was moving stiffly as she left her corner.  She was no longer limping but still favoring her injured ribs; the accumulated damage had robbed her of much of her deadly speed.  Mary watched her with her good eye, keeping her gloves at the ready.  The two circled prudently, only occasionally willing to prod at one another with a light jab or straight.  Neither girl was willing to commit to an attack and leave their tender areas exposed.  After probing Mary's defenses for a while Donna tried to draw Mary's guard away with a fake jab to her body.  The weary brunette didn't fall for her ploy, unflinching.  Donna waited a moment and then threw another feint, then another.  Mary remained unresponsive, continuing to cover up.
Realizing Mary wasn't going to uncover her most weakened areas, Donna decided to press her attack.  The dark-skinned beauty bombarded her opponent's midsection, her green leather thumping against Mary's taught abdominals several times in short order.  Mary grunted, flexing her abs to minimize the impact, then began to throw a right hook as fast as her fatigued muscles would allow.  Donna had been waiting for the turtle to come out of her shell, quickly changing targets and throwing a hard right hook of her own.
Twin smacks pealed across the venue and beachfront like thunder.  Mary's hook crashed against Donna's rib cage like a wave breaking on a cliff face; Donna's hook sunk deep within the soft tissue of Mary's shapely left tit, painfully deforming the fleshy orb.  Both women recoiled from the pain of their cross-counter; Donna coughing up a bit of blood as she stumbled backward, Mary letting out a scream of pain as her injury overtook her.
Both women needed a moment to recover after their exchange, but it was Donna who came to her senses first.  She leapt at Mary, eager to exploit her weakness by throwing a quick combination of fast jabs and crosses at her breasts, trying to keep the wounded woman locked down.  Mary fell back against the ropes as Donna treated her breasts like twin speed bags.  First she crushed them against Mary's ribs with jabs and straights and then juggled them upward with quick uppercuts, causing Mary's wounded mammaries to judder about.  Mary's mind went blank, unable to cope with the pain as her opponent continued to sink punch after punch into her pert tits.  Donna reared back, leveling her finishing punch.  She let it rip, colliding into Mary's swollen jaw and knocking her backward in a spurt of spittle and blood, her arms tangling in the cold ropes as she fell onto her smooth butt.
The crowd was in a frenzy, astounded that both women were able to last this long.  The referee began to count Mary out as Donna leaned forward, panting hard as she rested both of her gloves on her knees.  Mary was seeing stars, but the searing pain in her chest was stirring a fury within her.  Her watery eyes widened with rage, and she steadily climbed to her feet.  The roar of the crowd as she stood by the count of eight was almost deafening, and the uproar caught Donna's attention.
The sight of Mary standing made the woman's dark skin turn a few shades lighter.  She obviously had put all she had into that last punch, gambling that she'd put her silver opponent down.

She lost that wager.

Mary clenched her teeth tightly, and as soon as the ref gave the signal surged forward on a wave of pure adrenaline.  Donna was completely spent, unable to get her gloves up in time as Mary went back to work on her ribs, pounding at them until she heard a small crack.  Donna cried out in pain as she staggered backward into the ropes, defenseless and obviously finished.

So you like to punch tits do you?!  Let's see how you like a dose of your own medicine!

Mary roared as she unleashed her wrath and vengeance upon Donna's bosom.  The Jamaican woman's gasps turned to groans, then to sobs as Mary bombarded her sensitive mounds with three merciless combinations, smacking them in all directions.  Mary leaned in close, coiling her left arm around her helpless opponent's neck and pressing her bruised chest tightly against Donna's.  "Now we're even."  She whispered, though her voice was still overheard by the ring's microphones.  With that she cocked her arm back, just as she had when the two had clinched what now seemed like ages ago, then demolished Donna's chest, the brutalized woman collapsing onto the canvas.  The Jamaican fighter's face was tight in agony, and she made no effort to stand.  The referee fulfilled her duty, counting the fallen fighter out.  At her call of ten the crowd erupted once more in cheers and whistles.
As Mary's adrenaline rush faded she came to her senses and almost fainted.  The referee offered her shoulder to the depleted combatant, and Mary smiled as she realized she had won.  Leaning on the referee with her left arm, she raised her right high for the appreciative crowd, smiling as the announcer declared her the winner by knockout in the third round.  Her seconds helped her into her robe and back into the locker room just as the medical staff was securing Donna to a stretcher and bringing her to the medical tent.  Mary couldn't help but feel a bit of concern for her.  She respected any woman who stood against her in combat; it was a warrior's bond.
About thirty minutes later Mary had been treated and bandaged by the medical team and was relaxing on the beach in her casual clothes watching the waves roll in when Justin came to get her.  "That was a phenomenal fight.  You're one gutsy woman.  Mary smiled; the bandages over her eye and cheek shifting as her face moved.  "Thanks."  Justin sat down next to her on the sand, gazing out into the ocean as well.  "There's no rush.  We can leave whenever you're ready to go."  "Thanks," Mary said, turning toward Justin.  "I'm ready to go head back now."  Justin nodded.  "I've had your account credited, as per our agreement.  After your fantastic display of skill today I'm certain my desk will be flooded with new offers for you.  I spoke with several members and it seems you're a crowd favorite."
Mary eyed him skeptically.  "So they like how I looked in that bikini, eh?"  Justin removed his glasses, looking her dead in the eye.  "No.  Well, yes, some of them did comment on how attractive you were, but most of them were so excited because we don't have regular fighters of your caliber.  We can get any pretty face with huge breasts to strap on some boxing gloves and parade around the ring.  While some of our members prefer that sort of thing, most of us would rather see a nice full on fight.  A fight where nothing is staged; where the women actually know how to use their gloves.  A real fight.  Today you delivered – in spades.  We're ready to have you again whenever you feel you are ready."
Mary reflected on his words for a moment, watching a couple of gulls land on the sand a few meters away.  "I'll let you know when I'm ready for another fight.  But I'd like the next one to be by standard women's rules.  I don't know if my poor boobs are up for another match like today's anytime soon," she said, smiling.  Justin returned her smile.  "I'll make a note of that."