Note please that this story isn’t for everyone. Those squeamish about blood should probably skip this.
I met Sherry at a professional boxing match. She was seated next to me ringside and I could tell she really enjoyed herself, especially if she was showered by sweat or blood from one of the fighters. I was there because there was a women’s match that night and she enjoyed watching me having a good time as well. A few weeks later I took her to a bare knuckle event, where it became obvious she really got excited as the fighters pummeled each other’s faces. We have both done some fighting ourselves since then, fem vs fem and men vs men and even a couples match. Fun in their own way but that’s not what this story is about. We found another way to “get off” that doesn’t involve bruises and black eyes and that’s what this story is about.
It started with us just screwing around with playing cards. I’d have Sherry pretend she was fighting another girl and if she drew a black card she got to punch her opponent, and if she drew a red card her opponent got to punch her. We’d both wear boxing gloves and act out our roles. We made a list of where the punch would land. For instance a 2 was a punch to the stomach, a jack would be to the right eye, etc. If she drew three red cards in a row it meant the last punch knocked her down and she would have a take off a piece of clothing. We both enjoyed this roll playing for each other, she fighting women and me fighting men. Later we added “cuts” to queen,king,ace and used fake blood we bought off Amazon to mark up each other’s faces. I would congratulate her if she won and console her if she lost and she did the same for me. Over time this just sort of evolved into what I want to talk about today.
I’m a computer nerd and I wrote a simple program that allows a fighter to enter his or her “stats.” The kicker is you can’t make yourself good at everything. If you choose to have a strong left hand, it means your right hand is weaker (or you can opt for “average” in both hands). You can give yourself a cast iron jaw, but it’ll mean you may get knocked down with a good stomach punch. We keep the stats we enter for ourselves for each fight a secret from each other. I choose Sherry’s opponent and enter stats for her which Sherry doesn’t see either. If you lose the first fight because they have a devastating right hand you can plan for that in the rematch. (You can also choose your defensive skills). For a rematch we’re allowed to change ONE stat for the opponent we picked for our partner to fight if they’ve fought before.
During the fight I’ll act as Sherry’s opponent, giving her “play” punches according to what the computer announces, and she responds by doing the same to me as her opponent. If she gets knocked down I become her cornerman and urge her to get back on her feet as the computer program will begin a slow countdown to ten. One thing I should point out is that even if it’s only a game, Sherry hates to lose. She however seems very excited and happy to watch me lose.
We flipped a coin to see who would fight first and Sherry won. She stepped into our ring in the basement wearing very short white boxing trunk slit clear up to the wasteband on the sides, and a string bikini top. I announced that her opponent for tonight would be Marsha. Sherry had fought Marsha twice before, with Marsha winning the first fight with tit punches which put Sherry down for the count. Sherry came back in the 2nd fight and bloodied both Marsha’s eyes to the point that she could no longer see where the punches were coming from and the fight was stopped for cuts and Sherry was declared a winner by knockout.
Then I went over the rules I’d selected. As this was the rubber match between them, the fight could not be stopped for cuts, and they would fight with bare knuckles. It would end when one fighter was totally knocked out, and if a fighter didn’t rise by the count of 8 her opponent could hit her while she was on the mat to affect a knockout.
The computer hooked to the wall mounted TV began the program and spit out the first punch of the fight—a hard right to Sherry’s ribs. Sherry grimaced in pain as I gently poked her ribs. Then Sherry got to counter with a left to Marsha’s head. I acted like it spun me part ways around. The punches kept going back and forth with no one having a decided advantage. The second round had barely begun when Marsha threw a straight right to Sherry’s nose. The computer program temporarily halted and announced, “Sherry has a bloody nose!” “Fuck!” shouted Sherry. I quickly took the fake blood that was in a small bottle and sucked up about 1/4th of an eye dropper of blood and squirted it up Sherry’s nose. She threw her head back but as she brought it forward the blood began to drip from her nose on her upper lip. The computer program began again. Even punches were exchanged and then Sherry got to smash Marsha’s left tit, knocking her to the canvas. That meant Marsha had to take off her top. But before Sherry could capitalize on her efforts Marsha hit her right in the mouth and this time down she went. She cried, “Oh God! Is my mouth cut?” I looked at the computer screen and didn’t see any cut announcement, so I told her no and started to count. Glad for the reprieve, she got up just as the round ended. I removed her top and helped her to her stool and gave her some water.
In round two Sherry turned things around. She got to punch Marsha in her tits again and bloodied them as before. The computer had swung the fight clearly in Sherry’s favor now and kept giving her home run shots to Marsha’s head. She went down twice more, not making it up by 8 the second time. I laid there pretending to be Marsha as Sherry straddled on top of me and punched me in the face until I was out cold. Victory Sherry!
We took a break while Sherry got a shower and I prepared to meet my opponent. I couldn’t believe it, but Sherry walked out of the bathroom wearing a strap-on dildo! She said my opponent would be Jerry, who I had fought once before and beaten him. However, she announced that this time he was challenging me to a boxing match in which dick punching would be allowed. The rules would be that we would have to keep our dicks erect and above horizontal (pointing skyward, where they could be punched), or there would be penalty punches allowed to drooping penises. The contest would continue until one fighter beat the cum out of his opponent’s dick. Pretending to be Jerry, she brought her dick to an upright position, and then took off my boxing trunks and proceeded to caress my member until it was standing up straight, and then rang the bell for round one. Immediately we traded punches to each other’s dicks. When I was punching “Larry” of course I was punching a plastic dildo worn by Sherry. When Larry’s turn came Sherry got to punch my dick! She didn’t punch “hard,” but it was hard enough that I had to brace to receive the punch. The punches made my dick even more erect. Probably 80 percent of the computer’s chosen punches were to our dicks. Between rounds she examined my penis, asked me how I was doing, and I told her I was getting pretty raw and she grinned and said, “I can see that!” Punching the plastic dick didn’t seem to register to the computer at all, and Jerry was getting in the more telling blows. Then another of his punches resulted in the computer telling us that I was down, and that my penis had suffered tremendous damage! Sherry filled an eye dropper with fake blood, shoved it into my penis and drained the contents inside me. Then with every one of Jerry’s punches my dick would spurt blood, causing Sherry to scream with excitement! In spite of everything my dick wilted and drooped below horizontal. Jerry was given 20 free punches, but after 5 the computer said I was cut again and I went down to the mat. There she put another syringe of blood over my dick and kept pounding me, yelling at me to get up as my dick was taking a pounding. Then I started to come and Sherry squealed with delight as she kept punching me, squirting my cum all the way up to my neck, which was bloody cum at this point. Then the computer gave Jerry permission to punch my balls as I hadn’t gotten off the mat. Sherry punched my balls just hard enough to hurt, but the result was even more cum. Her final act was to pour the rest of the small bottle of fake blood over my dick and to continue to punch me until all the cum was beaten out of me. Then she stood over me in triumph and put her bare foot on top of my blood dick and pronounced, “Winner, Jerry!”
After a few minutes laying there she helped me up and into the bathroom to wash the blood off. She apologized and said maybe that was too intense. I told her I didn't mind, and it gave me some ideas for Sherry's next opponent and match, and she just smiled and said, "Bring her on!" I can't wait to see what we'll come up with next.
