A trip down memory lane

Billy carried the groceries inside, and unpacked everything into its proper place around Karen’s kitchen. Like a good little worker, he already knew where everything belonged. After all, he had cooked meals and unpacked groceries into this kitchen several times before.

The groceries weren’t anything special, Billy thought. Fresh vegetables. Expensive cuts of meat. A kind of tea Billy had never heard of, but which sounded expensive. Some vitamin supplements. Sleeping tablets. Huh. He was pretty sure neither Karen nor Selena took those. But Billy didn’t pry. It was a pretty ordinary list, all in all.

Karen walked in while he was unpacking and asked for a cup of tea, which Billy dutifully made for her. She had changed into a pair of tight, flattering blue jeans which clung to her milfy figure, highlighting her curvy ass and sleek legs, as well as a clean pale purple top with a deep V-neck, which seemed almost vacuum-sealed to her fit body and round breasts. Her dazzling golden cleavage stood out, proudly displayed.

Karen sipped her tea and silently watched Billy finish working. When he was done, she put her cup in the sink and told him to follow her, then walked to the living room. Billy did as instructed, following just behind her, wondering what she had planned for him.

“I was very upset with your behavior the other day,” Karen said. “Coming here late. Insulting me. I don’t want you forgetting who’s in charge between the two of us, just because you got a chance to strut your stuff at your little club again.”

Billy tried not to wince. She had no idea how wrong she was. That day at the club he had fought so hard for had been anything but an ego boost. Getting pieced up by a newly-returned Carly, getting knocked out by his coach… Getting ambushed, out-wrestled, and knocked out by his little sister… Getting ASS SMOTHERED by his little sister… Billy shuddered.

“So I thought I’d remind you. And who knows - perhaps some hair of the dog that bit you is exactly what you need,” Karen smiled. “Maybe seeing the moment which GAVE you this overwhelming brain fog will… Open your memory, somewhat~”

Oh, shit. Was she gonna show him…?

She was. Karen connected her phone to the large, wall-mounted, expensive TV in the living room, and Billy shuddered as he recognized the first frame that lit up the screen. The frozen frame showed him, standing across from Karen, in a boxing ring, on the day of the boxing seminar.

She was going to make him watch his own defeat on video, again.

At Karen’s gesturing hand, Billy sat on the sofa, hands awkwardly by his side as he stared at the screen and waited for her to hit play. He couldn’t help but stare at the way Karen looked in that tank top. He remembered exactly what had happened to him that night, but still shivered as he thought about actually watching it. Watching it with her.

Because that was what Karen wanted. A little movie night on the sofa, with her slave. She sat down next to him - or Billy was given the glory of sitting next to her - and he shivered again. Shivered, as he felt Karen’s weight sinking into the sofa beside him. Right beside him.

She was so fucking hot. Karen was like a lioness. Elegant, composed, confident and self-assured. Ready to pounce. The rich bitch had so much beauty and grace. As she lowered herself onto the comfortable sofa, she studied Billy behind a pair of cruel, smiling crimson lips.

A moment of eye contact was all he could withstand. He turned his attention to the TV, following her eyes to stare at the recording, as Karen hit play.

There was a strange intensity in the moment, and Billy was feeling the full heavy weight of it. A boxing champion sitting beside an untrained rich milf, so close that their thighs were touching, being forced to watch his own downfall.

Karen played the video from the very start. Even at the opening, the Karen on the TV looked smug and self-assured. On the other hand, Billy looked nervous, even as Karen stalked towards him, the very picture of a boxing noob.

Watching it back, Billy saw the same thing he remembered seeing in the moment. Karen had awful footwork. She was leaning heavily on her front leg. She had her gloves raised in the vague idea of a defense, without actually guarding herself at all. Meanwhile, Billy’s form was tight, his movements quick and light on his feet, his eyes sharp and analysing. He was maybe a little bit off his usual game, which was understandable given the micro-knockout he had taken from Karen just a minute before this demonstration match had started - he still remembered that momentary eye-rolling, leg-dipping sucker punch, that he had woken up from almost right away - but despite that, Billy on the TV looked like a talented boxer ready to demonstrate his prowess. Karen looked like a smug, clueless, arrogant MILF, about to get her brain rattled by a real fighter.

Back in the real world, Billy cringed, knowing that he was about to see the exact opposite unfold. All of TV Karen’s smugness was going to be justified and rewarded, as he gave her the exact outcome she was hoping for.

The striking began with Karen throwing out several clumsy punches, which Billy easily evaded. Billy hit her back with a few much cleaner strikes of his own, and confidently lectured the crowd of moms watching on the basics of boxing as he realized how easy this was, and how foolish he had been to be frightened of Karen. All was as it should be. He was clearly winning.

“You were quite tough at first, you know,” Karen told him casually, sitting so close beside him.

Her dainty hand was on his knee now, slowly stroking up and down his thigh, and Billy couldn’t hold back a shudder. Karen grinned.

“At FIRST,” she repeated.

On the TV, shockingly, Karen slowly started to take the lead with her nooby, embarrassingly bad techniques. He saw her actually winning an exchange with him in the pocket, her aggression taking him by surprise. Holy fuck. The gorgeous woman was whipping his head around with those gloves, looking like the cat that ate the canary.

TV-Billy drove Karen into the corner and clinched up with her, the rich milf holding him tightly to her body. Too tightly. His face was pressed against those breasts, getting the air squeezed out of him. The bodyshots he was throwing at her grew weaker and slower, until Karen flipped him around and held him in the corner instead.

The moms started calling out support for Karen, as her momma-bear-hug drained the champion. She was actually smothering him in her tits, with an expression of wild, eager anticipation. That was when Karen let him go, took a half-step back, and started unloading on his face. Jeering and taunting as those same clumsy punches from before now found their target.

Billy could only wince as he watched Karen beat all of the skill out of his body. She just kept on catching him with wild punches she never should have landed, rocking his world. Was he really… THAT bad, now? Fuck…

Billy shuddered, and beside him, Karen felt it. A smug, purring aura radiated out from her, and her hand grew more controlling as she stroked his thigh. Like he was a beloved, but rowdy pet.

What had he gotten himself into?

Watching the assault unfold, Billy’s cock hopelessly thickened up in his pants, creating an obvious, visible dickprint which Karen couldn’t ignore. The wealthy woman noted it with interest, once again taking in his impressive size and length, and continued rubbing his thigh with her hand. The two of them turned their attention back to the TV.

On the screen, Billy’s eyes were wild and distressed. There was true panic on his face as he lost control. A few punches later, his eyes were glassy and distant instead. Just in front of him, a sweaty, heavily panting Karen was elated. Feeling the rush of power, she didn’t relent, her punches driving him further back into the ropes.

The noises made by the moms watching told the whole story. Gasping with shock. Gasping with horror. Gasping with delight. Giggling. Every single one of them thought that they were watching Karen - bitchy, entitled, rich and fit Karen - destroy the champion of this boxing club with ease. While he had been fresh. While he had been at his best. While he had been SO confident.

But he was losing. He was being destroyed by one of THEM. He was being destroyed by a MOM. The handsome young athlete was getting put in his place by a much older woman. And in a moment, that public destruction would reach a final crescendo.

Back on the sofa, Billy gasped as Karen’s thumb brushed over his cock, while she rubbed his thigh. His heavy, thick dick was feeling extra sensitive, and started throbbing in the front of his pants. Karen liked the cute little noise he made very much.

“Pay attention,” she said softly. “This is the best part.”

On the screen, Karen’s grin grew wider, her energy and enthusiasm skyrocketed, as she realized she could actually do this. She might actually fucking knock him out!

A mighty milf punch caught Billy on the chin, and he collapsed, landing heavily on the mats with an awful THUD. Knocked to the floor, limp as fuck. Karen began a theatrical 10-count, getting to 6 before Billy dragged himself up in a daze, groaning, ready to get pummelled some more. Though if Karen hadn’t been making such a show of the count, and had been counting more properly, Billy probably would have been getting up at something more like a 15, and he would have already been finished. Finished, by a smug milf.

Billy knew what was coming. The final blitz that ended him. Broke right through his pitiful defense, and slumped him on the mats. And for some reason, in that moment, Billy found his mind drifting. Drifting back many years, to another fight that had been recorded in that very same boxing ring, at the very beginning of his amateur career.

He thought back in time to his first fight with Carly.

Carly’s thighs weren’t as big back then. They still had more size than an ordinary girl’s, but they were smaller than today. And they were chubby and plump, rather than firm and solid. Carly’s soft, wobbly butt wasn’t yet the big round rock of muscle that it would become either, and her chubby belly bore no faint hint of abs. Her skin was a lot more pale, especially compared to the sleek tan her thick thighs were sporting in the present.

Billy was still extremely new to boxing at the time, while Carly had been at it for almost two years. In all that time, she had been the only girl attending the club. The way Billy heard it, she was putting an insane amount of effort in, but not getting good results.

The thing was, Carly had the drive, but none of the natural talent. And far too much anger. Any time she sparred with one of the guys, she always went way too hard, trying to prove a point. “Girls can box JUST as hard as guys!”, she would say.

Scowling up at a boy, doubled over, and gasping for breath while he stared down at her without a hint of sweat. That was the lasting image of this girl with the frizzy orange hair.

On his first day at the club, Billy had seen one of her sparring matches. He had watched as Carly raged, gnashing her teeth and throwing every punch with everything she had, as if knocking out a guy was her unfulfilled life’s purpose. Like she didn’t know it was just sparring. Just practice.

Her opponents were always hesitant. Gentle. Sparring in the club was usually light and friendly. Boxers would pause the action, offer advice, and reset. Some of the guys might’ve gone at each other pretty hard on occasion, but they always talked about it beforehand, and it wasn’t emotional. With Carly, she didn’t seem to have a setting that wasn’t 100%.

At the time, neither Billy nor Carly were attending the college that the boxing club was attached to. Thankfully for them, all the sports clubs of the college were open on specific days for high schoolers and members of the local community (of an appropriate age) to join the classes, so long as they applied first, which Carly and Billy both were taking advantage of at the time. This open system got the college a lot more students, as high schoolers got used to the facilities available on the grounds and built relationships with the coaches, making it more likely that they’d choose to attend there in the future.

Billy still remembered the day of their fight so vividly. It was the first day since he had started going to the club where official amateur matches were happening. The kind of matches that go on an official amateur record. He hadn’t expected to join in, he was too new for that, but he had been excited to watch some of the fights.

At the time, Carly’s amateur record was zero wins and seven losses, with two of those losses coming via hard, clean knockout. She tried to act like being 0-7 didn’t affect her, but it did. It affected her greatly. Any time someone so much as looked at her, she felt like they were judging her, even if it was a totally innocent glance. Her shoddy 0-7 record was constantly on her mind.

She needed to get rid of that 0 so badly. The whole reason she had come here was to prove that girls could fight, that a girl could BEAT a boy, and so far… She couldn’t.

On days like these, where lots of fights were going to happen at once, some amateurs came from other gyms with their coaches to fight members of this club - but most matches were had between clubmates. Some opponents were matched up ahead of time, and others found an appropriate opponent on the day.

So far, none of the amateur boxers who came from the other gyms had been women either. None of the coaches, either. Carly and Coach Lucy were the only people in the gym without a dick between their legs. It made Carly feel like her mission was that much more important.

She had a point to prove. And she had to get rid of that 0, it was burning her up inside. So Carly was very was intent on having her eighth official match that day, and turning her record into a less-embarrassing 1-7.

Finding an opponent meant Carly had to go talk to the musclehead brute, Coach David. She had made her case to him very firmly. But he just wasn’t having it.

Coach David was shaking his head, sighing. “Carly, I’m sorry, but there’s no way I’m letting you fight,” he said.

“Why not?! You’re letting everyone ELSE do it!”

“You KNOW why not,” he shot back. “Don’t make me say it.”

“Because I’m a woman,” Carly growled.

“No, jesus-“ Coach David pinched his nose. “No, dammit. Because you always LOSE. You’ve gotten knocked out TWICE already. Out fucking COLD, Carly. None of the guys want to fight you, and it wouldn’t help them LEARN anyway, since they always have to go so gentle with you. Nobody wants to go gentle in a fight that actually goes on their record,” he said. “This isn’t sparring. These matches are for serious, high-intensity fighting. Not for… Floating around someone and treating them with kid gloves.”

Carly scowled. Everything Coach David had just said was true. Coming from someone else, it might have even sounded reasonable. Disappointing and heartbreaking, but reasonable. But Carly had also heard Coach David say other things.

Like when Carly had started at the club nearly two years earlier, and he had laughed while asking if she was just here to watch the guys with their shirts off. Or when she called him out for not giving her the same attention he was giving the boys, and he had called her a “stupid cow” under his breath. Or when the new coach, Lucy, had arrived six months ago - sporting an impressive professional boxing career of her own, and a glowing recommendation from the last place she coached at - and Carly had heard David in the locker rooms telling some of the boys that “cows like her don’t belong in boxing”, and to “just ignore her and listen to me”.

No. Carly was most certainly not going to listen to anything this man told her.

She stomped her foot, in a move that looked more petulant than she had intended, and scowled up at the tall man. “I don’t want them to go gentle with me either!” she shouted. “I’m not going to go gentle with THEM.”

“Like that’d make a difference,” Coach David said under his breath, rolling his eyes. Carly thought her rage was going to make her whole head burst. “You’ll just have to wait until there’s another girl you can fight, Carly. Until then, it’s too dangerous for you.”

“That’s bullshit! I’m a member of this club, I deserve to be given a match!” Carly snapped. “It’s men like you that are the reason I’m the only girl here. How are we supposed to feel welcomed in the sport if you won’t even treat us like you treat all of the stupid boys!”

Coach David was getting sick of this conversation. Carly’s angry arguing always wore him out, and he often found himself relenting to her pestering just to get her to shut up. This day would be no different.

“Fine,” he said, pointing over her shoulder. “You want to fight someone, fight Billy.”

Carly’s eyes shot open with outrage. She whipped her head around to where Billy stood, thirty feet behind her, hitting the heavy bag with slow, basic punches. She turned back to David with a scowl.

“He’s only been here for a WEEK. He’s BRAND NEW,” she complained. Coach David sneered.

“Exactly. He’s the only one here that might not totally embarrass you,” David said. “It’s him or nobody. Your choice, girl.”

“You… You…!!” Carly fumed.

“If you’re going to get all EMOTIONAL over it, I’m going to have to send you home,” Coach David said.

Carly was in a rage. Finally she spat “I’ll take him,” before turning away and stomping off to get ready for her eighth fight.

Watching Carly march away with the same expression you might have watching a little girl throwing a tantrum, Coach David shook his head and walked over to Billy, to tell him he was going to be participating in one of the matches after all.