Everything as planned

Jonathan is doing exactly what I've foreseen. He throws powerful kicks but I've studied him enough to anticipate his fighting strategy. He is playing the usual game, but leaving himself exposed more than usual, probably distracted by my naked body and careless with an opponent that he doesn't believe worthy. This is too good to be real. The guy heedlessely rises his right leg, as he had to train with a punching bag, and finally my moment comes. I step on a side, and then grab his foot, putting it under my armpit. He hopes on one foot and stares at me surprised. I clinch my fist and then hit his inner tigh with a flurry of punches. The guy shrieks in pain and tries to free his leg, but I deliver a last elbow strike to his knee that makes him fall. Jonathan rolls over the floor only to jump up a moment later, but I notice that he is limping now and a new upset expression is sketched on his face. I breath deeply, enjoying the wonderful sensation that the crumbling confidence of my opponent gifts to my heart. He comes forward aggressively, swirling his big arms around me. I dodge all those punches with a little effort and dance around the young brute. He is not triyng to use his legs anymore, so it is my turn to kick the shit out of him. My little foot targets his legs, giving priority to the one that I've already pummelled for good. Initially, the blows onto his legs don't concern him as much, but, as the bruises expand strike after strike, they become increasingly unbearable. Jonathan is getting desperate and after every kick hisses in pain.

He still chases me out but has lost all the mobility, so I decide to teach him a lesson. As soon as the guy loads his right arm backwards, preparing for yet another punch, I jump my leg in the air and block the blow in mid-air, stopping his bicep with my bare right foot. A knowing look runs between us. That was the same position that he had called "impossible" and "unrealistic" at the dinner table with my husband. I savor the lost expression in his eyes for a moment, then I lower my leg and lunge forward, hammering his chest with fists. His masculine pecs are hard, but still made of flesh and bones, and thus brittle against my feminine fury. My shots arrive, precise and cruels, shaking manly pride and inflicting intense pain. Jonathan backs away. It is me chasig him now and teasing "Where are you going pussy boy? You said that MMA prepared you for combat, don't tell me you're getting it from a woman who is much smaller than you!". The big guy is terrified and it's almost funny to see how he pulls back when I approach. My words are humiliating him but he got too scared to react. I step forward again and grab his head from behind, holding him into a clinch. A shiver runs trough my spine when my boobs meet his bare skin. He's sweating and looks terrified, the way only someone who's taking a bad beating can be.

Feeling my giant opponent shuddering under my grip, I understand that I already won, physically and psychologically. But that doesn't push me to pity. After a deep breath, I start throwing, with anger and lust, a flurry of knee strikes toward his belly and stomach, massacring the guy's intestines and internal organs. His contracted abs can't do anything to stop the pain and Jonathan begins to make pitying moans, bending his head lower and lower until it sets down on my shoulder. "Beg me...Jonathan...beg me...", I whisper in his ear, carrying on with the disruption of that muscular body. "I...I...I give up Karoline...I'm begging you...please...it's enough...", the masculine and yet fleeble voice mumbles next to me. A jolt of electricity runs through my underpants. I open my arms and Jonathan just slides down, collapsing on the floor like a young tree overwhelmed by the fury of the wind. He reaches the carpet and lays his back on it. The white skin of his whole body is painted with red and black patches and the big chest that goes rhythmically up and down finally appears helpless. I rise my foot, deserving a glance to my perfectly cured toes. He howls in fear and grumbles "No...don't finish me!!!". It' s too late though and my sole hammers his upper body down like a pike. "Finish? It's just the beginning...", I say, while the guy writhes with his mouth open around my martial foot. "This is for your clumsy kicks before...and this...", I continue, moving near his legs, "...this is for having challenged a woman to fight...", I snatch his pants and take them away, leaving Jonathan completely exposed.