Carly quit boxing

Carly woke up lying on the mat, the loud inhaled snore fading out halfway past her lips as she slowly came to - arms spread wide, legs bent and open, pelvis held up in the air.

She slowly lowered her hips down until her soft ass compressed against the mat, eyes wide and fearful as she tilted her head and looked around the gym, not yet moving to sit up. The other fights around her had all wrapped up, in their respective boxing rings. Carly didn’t remember anything that had happened since touching gloves and going back to her corner, but this wasn’t a good sign.

“No no no no…” she muttered to herself, horrified. “What happened, what happened…?”

“You got knocked out again, you stupid cow!” a college boy called out from across the gym, earning a few chuckles from his friends.

Coach Lucy shot all of them a glare. Four weeks later, the boy would be permanently ousted from the boxing club and suspended from his studies at the college, after Lucy reported his unsportsmanlike and sexist comment to the college board and ran it through their systems. Carly wouldn’t be here for that part.

The boy’s words send a tremor of fear and distress through Carly. What he said sunk deep into her brain. The disrespect of it. She couldn’t hold back a pathetic whimper. After waking up on her back, she had pretty much assumed that she’d gotten herself knocked out for a third time, but actually having it confirmed by someone with a more clear mind than her own made Carly feel awful.

She lost. She lost AGAIN. Holy fuck, she lost to BILLY? One-week-of-training Billy? Carly’s small chest heaved with quickening, panicked breath.

She had to at least know if she put up a decent fight. How badly had she hurt that rookie, before he had smacked her down? Did she at least make him stumble with that combination she’d been practicing on the heavy bag for so long?

“The- the tape… Show me the tape!!” Carly was groggy, staggering up to her feet and nearly falling over as she hurried out of the ring and towards the camera.

As Carly moved past Coach Lucy, the older woman stepped forward, putting a soothing hand on Carly’s shoulder.

“Hey, I’m not sure you should-“ she began, consolingly.

“SHOW me!” Carly yelped desperately, pushing Lucy away and stumbling over to the camera. Coach Lucy sighed, and didn’t fight her any further.

The camera at ringside was plugged into one of the college’s laptops, the footage already automatically backed up onto the school’s database. Carly’s heart pounded. She took in a deep breath, navigated to the folder holding the footage, and pressed play - watching the fight back on the screen of the laptop. The camera captured everything perfectly, and Carly saw it all.

The look of rage on her face as she rushed forwards, the mighty roar she released, and the way she was pieced apart by this total rookie’s rapid three-punch combo, sleeping on the floor just a moment later. Her loud and proud feminist roar completely cut off, and her frizzy-haired body dropping HARD to the mats.

Carly was horrified. It had been so fast. So effortless. And then, she was just… Sleeping. Lulled into a state of calm. Without her rage, and without her mind. It was the first time she had ever seen one of her fights from an outside perspective, and… Fuck, it was embarrassing.

She heard Billy’s voice on the tape.

“Oh, YEAH! I GOT your ass! How do you like THAT?!” he said, through the tinny speakers of the laptop. Carly’s face flushed red with humiliation and outrage.

“I GOT your ass”? Did he just say “I GOT your ass”!? No, did this fucking ROOKIE just knock her out in six seconds, then shout “I GOT your ass”?!

Carly shot Billy a glare over her shoulder. He was still standing in the ring, not sure what he was supposed to do now that the fight was done, and still a bit stunned by what he had just seen. With a snarl, Carly turned her attention back to the laptop, and saw Billy looking down at her on the video.

“O-Oh shit! My bad!” he said to her insensate, sleeping body.

The tape continued for a while longer after the knockout. Nobody expected a match to be that short, so nobody was standing by the camera to end it yet. Carly heard herself snoring, saw herself twitching. Lying on her back, obediently rolled over for him, presenting her belly, and shuddering.

“O-Oh god…” Carly whispered, her chest tightening. “Is that what I…?”

She watched herself, slowly bucking her hips into the air like a whore. Thrusting her pussy out towards Billy, legs spread open and knees bent. Offering up her womanhood, as if in some slow, awful, ritual trance, to the man who had rattled her weak woman brain and shut her the fuck up. Her proud, embarrassing battle cry ended and replaced with snores as she ground her pussy in the air towards him. It looked as if, in her shamefully-instant defeat, some deep female instincts to submit had been awoken inside of her. Tears formed in Carly’s eyes as the awful, humiliating images burned their way into her mind forever.

She didn’t even know she could LOOK like that. She didn’t know her body could be made to DO that. And all it took was a man’s hand on her forehead. Even now, her thinking felt sluggish… Cloudy… Out of it. Only the images in front of her stood out amidst the haze as crystal clear. So striking and powerful, that no amount of mental haze could dull the details to her wide eyes. Carly saw it all.

She looked so stupid. So submissive. She couldn’t get over her FACE…

Off in the background, she could see Coach David roll his eyes and say something under his breath. The way he didn’t even laugh made it so much worse. He didn’t even think enough of her or their arguments to take any satisfaction from this. To him, it was just an annoying, and obvious, waste of time. Carly wasn’t a rival, she was an annoyance. A loud and proud feminist slut finding out she can’t hang with the boys, just as he’d always known, but she had been unwilling to accept.

Carly was snoozing and humiliating herself in front of the whole club, putting on a whole pussy-dancing show, and he didn’t even have the decency to react.

“Huuaazzzzzz… Maauuuughhhhzzz… Huuaazzzzzz… Maauuuughhhhzzz…“

Carly’s heart sank as she realized something, listening to herself snore. Those open, wild, embarrassingly loud noises that she was helplessly making. They way that low, vibration buzz mixed in with her moans on every exhale. It… It sounded like mooing.

She sounded like a fucking cow.

The tape ended a few seconds later. Someone had obviously come over and switched the camera off. Carly wasn’t sure if they even bothered with the ten count or not. From the song and dance her snoozing body had been putting on, she wasn’t sure there would have been a point.

Carly felt like she was going to cry. And then, she DID cry, even though she was trying to hold it in.

She had tried so hard to be a fighter, and in the end she was nothing but a stupid cow. A stupid, moaning, bucking cow. Helplessly thrusting her womanhood towards her superior, a man, a fucking BOY, again and again. Mooing and snoring and braying, in a hopeless, repetitive trance.

She couldn’t delude herself anymore. Not after seeing that. She wasn’t a fighter. She couldn’t box the way the boys could. She was just a dumb fucking cow. All of the emotions were overwhelming her, and that just made it worse, because she couldn’t help but think of all the times men like Coach David had made comments about women like her being too emotional.

She couldn’t control her feelings. The tears flowed freely, and her wracking sobs were barely restrained.

Billy saw Carly’s tears. He felt horrible. At last, he stepped out of the ring, moving over beside her to offer his apologies. That had been a mistake.

“Sorry, I really didn’t mean to do that to you…” he said, regret and compassion and sympathy all over his face and voice.

“Shut UP!” Carly shouted. Her crying grew stronger, her small chest heaving inside her stupid orange sports bra, that she had specifically chosen because of how “athletic” she thought it looked. How cool and sporty she felt, picking it out in the store. How happy and excited she had been to wear it. She felt like such an idiot.

“I just mean, I wasn’t trying to-“ Billy tried to find the words. “Look, I won’t go as hard next time, I just-“

Carly pushed him away and ran off, crying. Billy didn’t even shift when Carly shoved him in the chest with both of her tiny, feminine hands. He barely felt it.

Having seen all of this unfold, Coach Lucy quietly walked over and put an arm around him.

“Sorry that happened, kid,” she said in a comforting voice. “Don’t worry, she’ll be back. She’s a tough one. This is just… It’s hard when you care so much about something, but you can’t make it work, you know?”

“I guess,” Billy said quietly.

He didn’t really know what that was like, but he knew better than to say as much. Billy couldn’t think of anything he cared about that he hadn’t been able to make work. He was smart, strong, charming, handsome. His mother had enough money for a comfortable life. His little sister got on his nerves sometimes, but he loved her to pieces, and he couldn’t wait for her next year when they’d be attending the same campus again.

The only thing he’d found somewhat difficult in the last few years was trying to find new things to teach Anna that she didn’t already know, after he had already covered most of what he’d been learning in his higher grade of school. It was the way the two siblings most spent time together. What had initially started as a big brother reading stories to his little sister, had shifted over time into a big brother teaching his little sister the things he was learning in school. Bringing home spare worksheets, and his notebooks from class, sitting beside Anna as she eagerly listened and absorbed it all.

This year, he had already covered all of the new maths equations with her, sitting beside the little nerd in her bedroom and patiently guiding her through the new concepts. It was always cute how frustrated she got when she couldn’t get her head around something, and how brightly she smiled when she finally understood it. That bright smile filled Billy’s heart with so much pride and joy. And to Anna’s credit, she picked all of it up much faster than some of Billy’s classmates, who’d had a full year to learn the groundwork.

Both siblings loved that time they spent with each other, but Anna was fast absorbing all of the content, and Billy felt like he might run out of supply soon enough. Anna would be so sad if that happened. She seemed to love nothing more than the time she spent sitting right up against her tall big brother, as he taught her some of the things that only older kids are supposed to know. It had been a part of their routine for years, but over time, Anna just seemed to get better and better at it. When she was eight, she had only gotten through maybe a fifth of what Billy learned as a nine-year old, sitting next to him on her bed each night over the course of the year. But these days, Billy was having to come home with the things they covered in class that DAY, and Anna would get through them in less than an hour. After so many years of their same routine, it looked like this might be the last year he had any content to teach her with.

He hoped they would still find a way to spend time together, once they couldn’t do this any longer. Anna was shy, and didn’t make a lot of friends, which might have been why she got so much joy out of her popular big bro coming to her room and choosing to hang out with her for a couple of hours. He knew it was important to her, and it was important to him too. He just didn’t know what he could replace that time with. Maybe if he ended up liking this boxing stuff he could teach her some of it, one day?

Billy winced, thinking about Carly’s horrified, crying face. No. He would rather stop spending time with Anna altogether than see his cute little sister make a face like that.

“You shouldn’t feel bad. Or discouraged. You didn’t do anything wrong,” Lucy’s voice brought him back to the boxing club.

Billy nodded. He felt bad anyway.

“You’ve got some pretty good moves, you know,” Coach Lucy said, not wanting the young boy to get discouraged from continuing by the reaction of his opponent. Especially not when he had put on such an impressive performance. “But you need to learn not to just stand there staring once you finish a combination. Let me show you a few ways you can…”

What followed was the first of (what would become) many training sessions between Coach Lucy and (what would become) her favorite student. Billy absorbed all of her teachings quickly, stuck to his training regimens and assigned workouts dutifully, and within a few months, Coach Lucy had a real soft spot for the boy.

Lucy knew her stuff, had an incredibly keen eye for boxing, and was possibly the best coach working right now. Billy was a raw well of limitless potential, talent, hard work, and drive. Lucy had just come to this college to make a bit of cash before she found a place she could train more professional boxers - despite her immense talent, there weren’t a lot of men willing to accept her as a coach, even though she was better than anyone else out there - but now that she had found an amateur like THIS… Well, if Billy was going to keep coming here for a few more years, maybe she could stay here a few more years as well. Lucy had a keen eye for potential. Within two years of coaching him, she was already certain that this kid could be the best in the world someday, the best boxer in the history AND future of the world, and she was just the woman to get him there.

Billy had a good eye for boxing too, which meant he knew just how solid Coach Lucy’s guidance was, and never for a moment questioned her capabilities. It was refreshing for Lucy to see a young boy so unbothered by a woman teaching him how to fight. Treating her word with so much respect annd reverence. And Billy knew that when he stepped out onto the world stage, he wouldn’t want anyone else but Lucy in his corner and his training camps.

Coach Lucy made a big difference for everyone in the club. Billy was her favorite, but over time, every student flourished under her keen eye and wise guidance. Eventually, even Coach David had started deferring to Lucy as the unofficial “Head Coach”.

David hadn’t been proud to admit Lucy was the best instructor there, but over time he had come to seriously respect her. “That woman actually knows what she’s talking about, if you can believe it,” he would chastise a young boxer for acting out. Making sure in his own way that the student didn’t disrespect David’s fellow coach. For him, it was astounding progress.

And under the new unofficial Head Coach, a couple more girls from the college did end up joining the boxing club in the years that would follow. Not many of them. Nothing serious. No dedicated, driven, boxing enthusiasts. But none of them got pushed out or insulted either. Four years after Carly was ousted, the club had three college girls that showed up once or twice a week and ran drills with the rest of the club, even if they weren’t interested in actually competing.

A couple of the boys might not have respected the girls and the “healthy workout” attitude they brought, since none of them really took the boxing club as the serious-and-intense combat that some of the boys insisted it was, but that wasn’t the prevailing attitude. Most of the boys just left the girls alone or offered friendly pointers from the sidelines. And they were happy to lightly spar with them, even if it meant going easy. It was a lot of fun, and a lot of laughs all around.

Billy’s skills grew. The harsh attitudes of Coach David softened, somewhat. Coach Lucy’s leadership and capabilities as a mentor became undeniable to all members of the club. And Carly hid herself away from all of it, for several years, burning with humiliation and shame, that she may never get over.

0-8. Twitching. Snoring. Slowly thrusting her hips. Fucking MOOING. Six seconds to go to sleep. Her roar shut down with a punch to the solar plexus, and her angry face turned placid and peaceful with a punch to the cheek. A punch to the forehead to send her body down hard, like a final kiss to the brain. It was over. It was so fucking over.

Coach David had been right about her. They all had.

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, FUCK!