Plesant Defeat

Round 3.

Ellie moved slowly from the corner, measuring every move, her bare breasts glistening with sweat, her golden gloves raised and ready.

She was frustrated and determined; she wanted to regain control of the match and finish it in this round. She lunged forward with jabs at my guard, trying to sneak crosses into my ribs. I blocked and dodged backward, then hit her with a jab that sent her head snapping back and forced her to raise her guard.

“You’re so frustrating,” she accused, trying to close the distance.

“You’re cuter when you’re frustrated.”

She laughed in spite of the situation, letting out a sharp exhale, and unleashed a combination with real force. I dodged inward to give her a chance, and she hit my ribs with a well-placed hook that knocked the wind out of me. She advanced, sensing a moment of weakness, and her uppercut struck my chin, making me see stars.

“Yes!” she exclaimed triumphantly. “I can do this.”

I pretended to stagger backward, giving her the impression I was close to a knockout; my cock, aroused by the situation, throbbed painfully. I tried to distract her with wide punches, which she dodged by letting them sail over her head, and a jab that hit her in the face but didn’t stop her.

She broke through my guard and struck me in the lower abs, just above my penis. It was painful, but not as much as it was pleasurable. My cock almost came from that punch, which was followed by many more.

A barrage of short, hard punches that drove deep into my abs and made me leak pre-cum from the pleasure, while Ellie rested her forehead on my chest and held me in this position of torment and ecstasy.

“This time I’m going to finish you off,” she muttered through clenched teeth.

I grabbed her by the shoulders, turning the clinch into an embrace, and lowered my head toward her face, resting my forehead against hers, panting, moaning. I kissed her to break her assault, both of us tasting copper. She bit my lip and dominated my tongue with hers, while her fists moved over my cock, gripping and stroking it urgently.

I moaned in agony as I held back the pleasure and pushed her away, unleashing a flurry of punches that pinned her against the ropes. She covered herself, her guard tight, and I pounded her body: blows to the liver, blows to the kidneys, each one controlled so as not to hurt her, but to try to wear her down. She grunted with every impact, her arms dropping slightly, her defense cracking.

I saw the opening, unleashed a powerful cross aimed at her chin, making her feel the urgency and seriousness of the fight, but I deliberately hesitated at the last moment...

...And she dodged it. Just as I’d taught her, and her counterattack struck my jaw with a crack that made my legs wobble.

Her eyes widened, surprised by the sudden triumph.

"Hgnnn..." I let out a pathetic groan, staggering backward in a daze, and she advanced decisively. Punches to the stomach to bend me over, hooks to the face to keep me dazed, and powerful uppercuts to push me back, sending my head flying in all directions. I tried to defend myself, but my movements were sluggish and clumsy. My eyes were clouded by the pleasure and exhaustion of the blows she was landing on me.

“Take it easy now,” she sang, in a voice that was both tender and cruel. “All those muscles, and yet you’re already exhausted.”

With one last punch straight to the face, she shoved me against the ropes, pressed her body against mine, and her thigh found my cock, still bare and stiff. She squeezed it between her legs, trapping me there, and began to move her hips: slowly, devastatingly, tightly.

“Do you want to come?” she whispered in my ear, her inner thighs squeezing me with soft force, sliding up and down my entire length with every slight movement, sweat and her dripping nectar acting as natural lubricants. “Too bad, because I want to play with you a little longer.”

“Ellie—”

“Shh.” She bit my collarbone, moving her thighs just enough to make me tremble, but not enough to make me come. Her glove brushed against my face, teasing me mockingly. “You’re shaking like a leaf—you’re so pathetic.”

My cock throbbed so hard it drove me crazy and had me gasping like an animal. I was trembling, my hips writhing helplessly between her legs; my whole body was a nerve on edge that couldn’t break free. She held me there for over a minute, while her short punches battered my body, sinking into my hips and using my face like a speed bag, keeping me dazed but present, desperate from the friction her thighs were using to torture my cock.

“Be quiet,” she said, and her fist struck my chin, forcing my mouth shut.

Now she was pounding me faster, her thighs moving in rhythm, her bare breasts pressed against my chest, her breath coming in gasps. I was right there, teetering on the edge, my cock throbbing between her legs, my vision narrowing to her glitter-streaked face, her dark blue eyes blazing with power.

“Come for me,” she ordered. “Come while I knock you out. Lose everything in one fell swoop.”

She let go of me suddenly, took a step back, and unleashed a combination that would have ended any real fight: a jab to keep me in place, a cross to send my head reeling to the side, a hook to my exposed temple that made my vision explode with light. I staggered, my legs giving way, and she followed up with an uppercut that lifted me onto my tiptoes, my mouth agape, my eyes rolled back.

“Down,” she whispered, and her final, wide hook struck my jaw with all her weight and force, slamming me to the ground and knocking me unconscious for a moment.

In that moment, with my back slamming into the canvas and my body limp and defeated, my cock exploded, coming from the sheer pleasure of having been dominated.

She stood over me, her chest heaving, the golden boxing gloves still ready, and began to count.

"One..."

She stripped her bikini bottoms off, kicked them aside, her naked body gleaming with sweat and victory.

"Two..."

She straddled my hips, her wetness pressing against my still-hard cock in the mist of an orgasm, positioning herself with deliberate slowness above it.

"Three..."

She sank down onto me in one smooth motion, her inner walls clamping around me, and I groaned despite my dazed state, my hips bucking upward helplessly, as I finished the orgasm and started building a new one immediately after.

"Four..."

She began to ride me, slow and deep, her gloved hands pressed to my chest for leverage, her breasts bouncing with each rolling thrust.

"Five..."

I got instantly close again, my cock throbbing inside her, my whole body trembling with this impossible desire, the sexual pleasure overhelming my whole nervous system.

"Six..."

She rode me faster, her hips snapping now, grinding down with each descent, her head thrown back, her white hair wild.

"Seven..."

"Ellie-" I gasped, my hands finding her hips, not pushing away but clinging, desperate.

"Eight..."

She looked down at me, her eyes blazing, her glitter-streaked face radiant with power and joy, and she squeezed around me with devastating purpose.

"Nine..."

I came again.

This orgasm crashed through me with devastating force, my cock pulsing inside her, my seed flooding her in hot waves that seem endless, my whole body convulsing with the release she'd won. I closed my eyes again and pathetic moans escaped me, unable to control any part of my body at this point.

"Ten!" she cried, triumphant, her own orgasm cresting with mine, her inner walls milking me with rhythmic pulses.

She collapsed forward, her bare body pressed to my bruised chest, her gloved hands framing my face, her lips finding mine in a kiss that tasted of sweat and copper and shared victory.

"I win" she whispered against my swollen mouth with a coyly mocking tone, her voice breathless but satisfied. "Now you are mine, loser"

I lay beneath her, faking unconscious, but also exhausted and pleasantly out of breath.
I never felt like this, I never felt "claimed", and I was loving it.