Helen Danvers, modern busty boxercise mom

Helen had been coming to the Gym for a few months now, doing her little workout and watching the real boxers spar and hit pads. She never admitted it, but she thought they were all so cool - the men and the women who dedicated their lives to this sport. She'd grown up rich, and now that she had two children and an equally rich husband, she didn't even need to worry about working. Her full, mature figure had done her well in life, snatching up opportunity after opportunity purely thanks to her excellently curvy genetics and pleasant birth family. She didn't have the drive to be a professional athlete, nor would she enjoy the lifestyle even if she did, but all the same she enjoyed occasionally living the fantasy that she was like everyone else at this gym. And she didn't keep her fantasy private.

Helen would constantly act not only like she was the boxers here's equal, but actually a superior. Just as she'd done in most of her life. Giving them shoddy advice on improving their stance that they would just grumble and ignore, telling made-up stories on all the tragic reasons she hadn't been able to have a fight yet - or made up stories about all of the street fights she'd gotten into and won.

She told the stories like a child might, and they were obviously fake. How she'd single-handedly knocked out a man twice her weight by swinging her heavy bust into his jaw, for example. Absurd stories and lies that used impossible circumstances to make her out to be some kind of local hero - never with any mention of her husband or children existing at all, of course. And she wouldn't shy away from flirting or feeling up the muscles of some of the male boxers here. Helen came here to be someone else, and she liked living in her little power fantasy amidst the serious boxing men and women of the gym. Nobody had even seen her wearing her pristine, expensive and mint condition boxing gloves more than twice.

Everyone was sick of her. Of her arrogant nature, her superiority act, her obviously bad boxing advice, her made up stories, and her fortunate life. A handful were especially jealous of her beautiful figure. How a woman so averse to physical work such as her had managed to stay fit and hot even after giving birth twice was a complete mystery, and an all-too-common source of envy.

One week ago, during her horrendous workout bare-knuckle shadowboxing in front of a mirror with the poorest of form, eyes mostly focused on how the punches made her large breasts sway and jiggle, she was approached by one of the boxers. A woman much shorter than the incredibly long-legged Helen, and with a figure more befitting of an athlete - great ass, but hardly competition for Helen's round bubble butt, wide hips, and especially not her big boobs.

"Oh?" Helen turned as the boxer tapped her on the shoulder, looking down to meet the glare of the much shorter woman. "Do you want some advice on your workout, sweetie? Or did you come to ask about the three guys I knocked out on the weekend?"

The shorter woman had to take a small step back as she glared at Helen, as standing close enough to tap her on the shoulder also meant being close enough that her breasts covered the lower half of her face when she looked down.

"Ooh, that sounds greeeaaatt." the boxer tried to disguise her eye-roll. "But I have a better idea. How about we have a little match, this time next week? I'd love to see what I can learn from you."

Helen hesitated mentally, but outwardly, her demeanor and arrogant aura of a superior speaking to a beginner never faltered.

"I'm not so sure, honey." Helen said sweetly. "I don't think we'd be in the same weight class."

It was an excuse she'd used many times before in passing, though she'd never been directly challenged like this. It was often true, thanks to her tallness and curvy figure - and in this case it was certainly true.

"That doesn't matter, since we aren't in the same skill class either," the boxer said curtly, dropping the act. "Fight me this time next week, unless you're too scared to show up."

Helen faltered. This time, her act did waver for a brief moment. The whole gym went silent. They were all watching. She never thought she would be challenged front-on like this. Her fantasy was at risk. But she couldn't look like a coward - she couldn't back down from this bitch's provocation. She was the lady who knocked ten men out with just her boobs. She had to keep the act up, even if it was just for another week.

"Alright, fine," Helen said, forcing a thin smile onto her face. "Sounds like a plan. I'll see you then. Miss...?"

"Rose," the boxer, apparently Rose, said back. "And no crying when I whoop your ass."

Helen opened her mouth to respond, but could think of nothing to say, and already Rose was turned and walking off. Her heart pounded. She'd never met someone who didn't like her before. What was this Rose's problem? That was the most intense conversation she'd ever had.

Helen tried to calm down, but she was really nervous. She was going to fight that bitch next week? Sure, she had the height, reach, and weight advantage, but... well, anyway, there's no avoiding it. She couldn't let everyone figure out she hadn't been telling the truth. Helen swallowed, took a breath, and got back to her poor-form shadow boxing in the mirror, a determined look on her face. She was... She was going to have to knock Rose out!