Shockingly, Billy gets back up

The crowd was roaring. None of them could believe their eyes. Billy was down, and he was down HARD. So much for the “Iron Chin”! Carly had SLUMPED him!

The sight of his deep, heavy fucking snooze was so shocking, so totally stunning, that it took a moment before Matt realized he should begin the 10-count. He just stood there, staring at the sprawled heap that was his until-now undefeated rival, and took it all in.

He never thought he would see Billy like this. Laid low. So fucked up that he wasn’t moving a damn muscle. It was… Intoxicating.

Carly was buzzing. She leaped back, grinning like a madwoman, hopping from toe to toe and shaking her athletic arms out by her sides. This was everything she had dreamed it would be.

Inside those tight orange shorts, Carly’s pussy was leaking pleasure juices like crazy. Her heart was pounding and her small chest was heaving with breath, not from exertion, but from sheer excitement as her victory washed over her. The adrenaline dump was insane, and for the first time, the reality of what she had just done hit her.

She had knocked out Billy. BILLY. The boy who had made her quit. The man who had never lost. He was snoozing like an IDIOT. He was on the GROUND. He was KNOCKED OUT COLD, and SHE had done it to him! In front of EVERYONE!

Overwhelmed by emotion, Carly’s muscles suddenly felt weak as she stared down at him, and she had to stop her hopping before she lost her footing. Coming to a halt, Carly stood in place on those thick fucking legs, the product of a million squats, and gulped as she let the feelings pass through her.

The invincible Billy, the boy she’d had nightmares about for years, was sleeping. Drooling. He hadn’t even landed a single punch. He was embarrassed, defeated, and knocked the fuck out. This was everything she had dreamed of. Everything she had ever dared to hope for.

Well, mostly.

Billy was DEEP asleep, but he wasn’t embarrassing himself quite as much as he could have been. Shaking violently, snoring loudly… There was none of that. He was just so STILL… So limp and useless… It felt incomplete.

“One… Two… THREE…!” Matt finally began the count, perhaps fifteen seconds late.

Snapped back to attention out of their own stunned stupors, the crowd began counting in time with Matthew, a roaring chorus of voices all building towards that crucial “ten”. Every camera in the building was pointed at the motionless, slumped heap that had once been “Iron Chin” Billy, as the numbers climbed higher and higher.

While she was still taking the moment in, Carly suddenly caught sight of Billy’s erection in the front of his boxing shorts, and her breath caught in her throat. A wave of weakness washed over her, making her knees dipped somewhat, and once again she nearly creamed herself.

Holy FUCK. Matt hadn’t been kidding! Billy really was packing heat. Just LOOK at that monster. That slumbering dragon. That was the longest, thickest fucking bulge she had ever seen. Just the sight of it, the SUGGESTION of it, had Carly’s head spinning.

Carly’s smile widened, and the wave of weakness passed. She stood a little taller, looking smug as she stared at his fat bulge pressed against his boxing shorts.

Ha. So much for “big dick energy”. Billy may have strutted around like he owned the place, but all that extra “energy” wasn’t enough to keep his eyes open. The power of Carly’s killer gams had overwhelmed him. Her squats had outpowered his iron chin, and sapped his energy to zero. Billy had all that dick, all that MANHOOD, and he was still sleeping on the mats at the feet of a mighty woman. It made Carly’s victory feel even more perfect.

Hmm. Almost perfect. The bitch still wasn’t moving. Not even a twitch.

“FOUR… FIVE… SIX…!”

Carly’s strong legs trembled with triumph, excitement, and pride as that count stretched closer. She was getting weak in the knees, the sound of the crowd roaring in her ears in time with Matt.

But on five, Billy began to stir. Those dull, glassy eyes fluttered half-open, looking dopey and dazed. Carly’s eyes shot open wide at the delicious sight.

Oh, fuck yes. He looked so lost. So confused. A weak moan left Carly’s open lips as she saw Billy slowly lift his weary head, weakly turning it around and taking in where he was. She could TELL his brain was moving at a snail’s pace. She must have seriously fucked up his mind.

Billy was a mess. He clearly had no idea what was going on. The pounding in his ears from the shouting crowd was disorienting him. Carly watched as Billy tried to get his feet under him, but stumbled and fell pathetically back to the mats.

Matt was right beside him, and barely held back a laugh. Fuck, Carly had got him GOOD. From the crowd, Anna cackled with delight at the humiliating sight, gleefully joining in with the shouted ten-count. Even Kristen, who had known Billy for years, was excitedly chanting along with everyone else.

“SEVEN… EIGHT… NINE…!”

Billy was a legend. He was a hero. He had no quit in him. Waking up to the sound of rising numbers - even when conscious, intelligent thought was beyond him - his body just couldn’t stay down. The lumbering oaf just didn’t know what was good for him.

Moving on pure instinct, with that warrior’s spirit that told him to never stay down, Billy attempted to rise again. This time, using the ring ropes for support, he managed to pull himself up. He was wobbly, and looked like he might fall over any second, but he was up.

Carly’s excited, overjoyed heart leapt into her throat. He got back up. Oh my god, he got back up.

A few people in the crowd shouted “TEN!”, but most of them had stopped the count, and the number came out much quieter than the others had been. Crucially, the match’s referee, Matt, hadn’t said “ten” either.

“Oh my god, YES…” Carly’s breath was coming hot. It was hard not to make an orgasmic ‘O’ face in the middle of this ring. She fucking LIKED what she was seeing.

Billy was empty. Fucking EMPTY. He could barely stand. He looked lost. His arms were holding onto the ropes, and he STILL looked like he was going to fall. Carly had snatched his fucking SOUL.

Matt’s eyes caught Carly’s, and he saw that hunger. That primal need. Her thick thighs squished together, and a faint whine left her throat. He knew what she wanted. Once again, Matt stopped the count and stepped forward to check Billy’s pupils.

Could he continue…?

Matt’s breath caught in his throat at the glazed, distant look Billy’s unfocused eyes gave back to him. Fuck. Fuck, he COULDN’T continue. That was so hot. Billy was GONE.

He had never seen his friend like this. So useless. So fucked. It was hard to even believe that his rival could look this far gone. And yet… He was. Nobody was home. He wasn’t even really awake - his body had just chosen to stand up without consulting his empty, drained mind. He was on his feet out of sheer stubbornness. Sheer “big dick energy”, that wouldn’t let him quit. But that was ALL he had.

No thoughts. No mind. No defense. He had nothing. Matt’s long-time rival stood in front of him, leaning against the ropes with dull, glassy eyes, and there was nothing left in him. Another good punch, and Billy would be destroyed. That sensitive chin, that perfect sweet spot, would own him for good. Matt knew that. He knew he should call the fight here.

But he needed more. And Carly needed more. She wouldn’t be satisfied with the fight getting waved off, once again “winning” while Billy was dazed but still on his feet. She wanted him down. She wanted him SNORING.

With a deep, shaky breath, Matt stepped to the side, lifted his arm, and brought it down.

“Fight on…” he said, never taking his eyes off the stupefied, hollow ruins of his superior rival.

Yes. YES. Carly was thrilled. This was it. THIS was going to be perfect.

Matt stood to the side, watching. The crowd had gone silent. Waiting. Billy didn’t move. He couldn’t even think. The champ just stayed propped up against those ropes, trembling, already a broken mess. Carly was just a few steps away from him, looking flushed but alert. Looking like this was still going to be a fight. Her white gloves were raised, and her thick legs were pulsing as she began to hop from toe to toe again, grinning wide.

She knew she could just step forward and punch him. He wouldn’t even react. No defense, no dodge, he would just take it and sleep. His chin was RIGHT THERE. His mighty chest heaved with staggered, deep breaths, as he stood with his gloved hands hanging off the ropes, in a fight that should have already been stopped.

He wasn’t a threat. He was a spectacle. And Carly could USE spectacle. It was a chance to say everything she wanted to say. To make the footage of this match not just an incredible victory - but a perfect, primal redemption. One that fixed everything Billy had once broken inside her. One where she humiliated him, and then gave him the ugliest fucking knockout the world had EVER seen. And he had delivered it to her on a silver platter, all thanks to his stupid, never-say-die, “big dick energy”.

Billy had doomed himself. He had made Carly’s win perfect.

“Awwww, oh my GOD, look who it is!” Carly teased, her lack of concern obvious in her bright, girly tone.

She laughed. Loud and joyous. It was the only sound in the gym, with the audience as silent as they were. An echoing laugh of the girl who just knocked out Billy, and was about to go for seconds.

“Are you SERIOUS?” she smiled. “You got back up? Are you STUPID?”

Billy groaned. The gears in his head were turning so, so slowly.

He wasn’t stupid… Karen had said he was. Anna had said he was. Even his mom had entertained the idea. But it wasn’t true…

“You came back for more…” Carly chuckled to herself. “Ohhhh, you really shouldn’t have done that, Billy. You should have just STAYED DOWN.”

Carly struck a pose, with her gloved fist out towards him. The triumph in her voice made it very clear that she was putting on a show. Despite what she said, Carly couldn’t have been more glad that Billy got up again.

“Your chin is so WEAK,” Carly continued her little public-humiliation victory speech. She stopped bouncing on her toes, no longer seeing the point, and stood tall. Her thick legs flexed with power. The erotic flush on her face and the slightest twitch of her inner thigh was the only thing that betrayed her intense arousal. “Knocking you out once was EASY. Oh, and you got knocked out, in case your brain is too cooked to know where you are right now,” Carly snorted. “God. I should kick you in the jaw, and shut your lights out for good.”

Her right thigh tensed with dangerous might, implying she may follow through on her threat. From the crowd, one of the girls in the feminism club shouted “Do it!”, and Carly was very fucking tempted. She had always wondered how Billy would handle a kick to the head. Even before she knew about his sweet spot, before she knew he was slipping, she had fantasized about putting her new legs to the test.

Billy’s thick erection still strained against the front of his shorts. The biggest Carly had ever seen. Fuck, Billy was STACKED. The muscleheaded oaf had an insane amount of dick. And he was just standing there and TAKING this humiliation. Carly thought she might cum in her pants. But she kept on talking. The words were a performance, one she wanted immortalized on all of the cameras filming this. One she wanted to watch back for years and years after this.

“You’re sleepy. You’re LAZY,” Carly cooed sweetly, in a seductive, almost hypnotic voice. Tearing down his legend, his aura, piece by piece. Breaking him apart with soothing, mocking tones. “You’re just soooo lazy… You want to sleep, don’t you? Don’t you want to close those heavy eyes and give up?”

The words were making his head pound. G-Give up…? No, he couldn’t… That wasn’t… Uhh…

Billy’s gloves left the ropes, and he took an unsteady step forward - maintaining his balance, but wobbling like crazy.

“Well, lucky you. You’re about to get knocked out TWICE in one round!” Carly boasted. “So much for having an ‘Iron Chin’, huh? I want to see you WRITHE~!”

Billy took another step, and nearly collapsed. With every step, Carly found herself both hoping he would embarrass himself by falling over all on his own and staying down, and hoping that he would stay up so she could do this RIGHT.

“You’re cooked. You’re FUCKED. You’re doomed,” Carly assured him. “The ‘Iron Chin’ champ… After this, they’re going to have to start calling you ‘Weak Chin’ instead.”

A small laugh sounded from somewhere in the crowd. “Weak chin!” they called out, creating more quiet laughs around them.

Anna was leaning forward in her seat, eyes wide and unblinking, taking every detail of this moment in. Her brother was facing ultimate, total domination. Not just a loss. Not just a knockout. A verbal humiliation, on camera, in front of a heavily invested crowd. There was a good chance that nickname actually caught on now, thanks to Carly. He might even be introduced into his next fight as “Weak Chin” Billy, if the ref slipped casual speech into their official introductions.

Anna was thriving. She was so glad to have set all of this up. This one perfect moment. All Carly had to do was finish it. Finish HIM.

“A weak chin. A paper champ. A stupid oaf,” Carly smiled as Billy staggered towards her, one lumbering step at a time. That faint whine had entered her voice again, barely restrained. This was it. This was going to be a BIG finish. Fuck, was she actually gonna cum? It really felt like she might. She wished she could touch herself, but not yet. She couldn’t spoil this perfect moment.

Carly grinned with a supreme confidence. Her white-gloved hands went proudly on her hips, as the weakened mess of a legend approached her. The legend that was about to be debunked.

She had already knocked him out. She had FELT it. She had seen it on his face. She had seen him go so limp, and still. What she faced now was a reward, not a challenge. It was the universe saying to her “good work, now once more with feeling”. An opportunity to knock him out so deeply, he would have no chance of getting back up. An opportunity to snuff out his “big dick energy”.

Knocking out Billy had been incredible. ENDING Billy was going to be even better.

Carly played to the cameras, puffing out her chest. This was her night.

“Sit back down, Billy,” she grinned. “You’re only going to get yourself knocked out cold. Ah. But maybe that’s what you want, huh?” Carly laughed. “You’re so lazy. So damn lazy. Alright then. Here comes a DEEP fucking knockout, you chinny dumbass.”

With that, she cocked a hand back, white glove tensed and ready to fly, to end this once and for all. To sleep the once-thought unsleepable. To prove that girls can fight JUST as hard as boys. To avenge her younger self.

“Maybe you didn’t hear me earlier,” Carly said to the insensate, staggering meathead lumbering towards her. “I said… I GOT your ass!”

And with that, Carly let the punch fly - right towards the sensitive, damaged chin of the man who had been stuck in her mind for so many years. Ready to move on. Ready to watch him go.

Time slowed. Billy’s eyes widened with faint recognition as the glove approached. Some small part of his fried brain knew what this was. Knew that he should react. But there was so little time.

This could be a really, really bad one.